(un)ladylike

i'm only after success.

[tfcrp]

[tfcrp]

Hey Foxes!  Please see the below character development meme, featuring questions based on all of the canon characters. This is entirely voluntary, so if you want to participate please just reblog! Members, please be sure to send everyone who reblogs this meme questions for them to answer!

AKIRA SATO: What would you like to be known for? ALANNA NGUYEN: Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic? ALIS TAN: What is your worst memory? ARLO BOOTH: Do you get jealous easily? What do other people have that you wish you had? BIANCA SHAY: Is it best to always tell the truth? In what circumstances is it okay to lie? CADE MITCHELL: How often do you seek out the company of others? Or are you more comfortable alone? CAMERON TRASK: How do other people perceive you? Is it correct? CARTER MADDOX: What has been the greatest turning point in your life? CASEY HENDRIX: What have you had to sacrifice to get to where you are today? CLAUDIA JEWELL: Do you know who you are? DEL RAMSEY: Are you more of a leader or a follower? EMERY COPELAND: What is one thing about you that other people find confusing or surprising? ELIANA FELIX: Do you find it easy to express your thoughts and feelings? GLORY HOSKINS: Have you ever been in love? Do you want to be? GRAHAM SOSA: Is the ability to forgive a weakness or a strength? GRANT ROLLINS: What are your goals in life? GRAYSON SHARPE: What’s more important to you, truth or peace? JASPER LEWIS: Is pain a good teacher? JUSTIN BYRD: Who is the most important person in your life? KENT CHEONG: How do you cope with negative emotions?   LOGAN TRASK: Do you set high standards for yourself? How well do you measure up to your own expectations? MARLEY REID: If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? MCKENNA MONROE: How often do you do what other people expect of you? MEREDITH COTES: What does family mean to you? NEEL AVERY: What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? Does that define you? NICO RAMIREZ: How do you feel about violence? Does it ever solve problems? NOAH NAKAMURA: What are three things that you’re good at? OLIVIA FINCH: Who in your life are you most afraid of disappointing? RALEIGH EVERHART: Do you control your temper or does it control you? RIVER TATE: Do you find it easy to stand up for yourself? SASHA HART-ASHBY: How much do you care about what other people think of you? SIENNA HARRIS: Is it better to fit in or stand out? STERLING WALSH: If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what three things would you want to do in the time you had left? SYDNEY MCCRAY: How easily do you trust other people? VIVIAN BROOKS: What’s more important, friendship or success?

Hey Foxes!  In the spirit of #memes past, I thought now would be a good time to bring back some of our development memes for those of you who might not have been around the first time as well as for those of you who have—(and those of you, like me, who probably still have some of these in your inbox)—so have fun! Just keep in mind that, for the purposes of the activity check, meme responses don’t count as activity. So if you were on the check posted earlier today, I’m still expecting to see a written thread from you!

Admin X.

[itsoliviafinch]

WHEN: Friday, October 19th

WHERE: Eden’s Twilight

WHO: Open

Honestly, she was beginning to question why she was even here. Olivia didn’t even know what to do at a nightclub, and she came alone so that was probably not the best choice, but at least she was trying right? Even if her hands were shaking and she just wanted to run out of the doors, curl up in her bed, and act like tonight never happened…it was an effort. After that loss, she had started to give up hope, but something rang true in her mind, and that was that she hardly knew anyone on her team. Or the Vixens for that matter. And the first step at a good team, was communication, and that was the sole reason she showed up at Eden’s. Word was that this was where everyone was going to be, and it was a chance to get to know people, even if that thought alone made her stomach flip over itself about a million times.

Holding her glass, which didn’t have alcohol in it considering her father’s abuse of it was enough to make her practically steer clear of it, she looked around from the place she’d set up camp at. A corner near the dance floor, an empty booth that she had occupied because the idea of entertaining on the dance floor was far from her style, she sipped on her sprite and nibbled on her bottom lip. She felt out of place, dressed in a faded black band t-shirt and some ripped black jeans, paired with some sneakers…it was that closest thing she had to club attire. Her short locks were in a natural messy array, and she tucked a strand behind her ear out of habit as she sighed.

Now her glass was empty, and as she slid out of the booth she hadn’t even noticed someone almost back into her until her reflexes made her stumble back into her booth and she caught her glass seconds before it hit the floor. Knitting her brows together, she sighed and pushed herself back up, “Sorry, it’s….really crowded in here.”

[cerxlyn-blog]

She’d just spent the last five minutes convincing the bartender that she was a natural brunette just like the ID that she’d found on the floor and that the fact her eyebrows were ginger was just the result of a very detailed dye-job. She’s pretty sure the only reason they’d given her a drink was to get her to shut up and leave them alone, but she’s not going to complain. She got what she wanted, after all.  And although Eden’s wasn’t exactly her usual kind of haunt, Cera still found more than enough fun to be had here. There was something kind of nice about dressing up in a way that she would never dare usually – as in, the shortest, tightest black dress she could find paired with a choker with a ridiculously chunky metal clasp – and although it didn’t even come close to some of the other attendees’ clothing choices, it was still pretty exciting.

Intending to finish her drink and then hit the dance floor, she went to the first table she could see with a familiar face and space for her to join them. She watches as Olivia gets up to move away, and how they almost collide. Cera briefly wonders if she even saw her coming and recognised her, given the distance of the Foxes and the Vixens and how Olivia doesn’t seem to be all too close to either at the best of times.

“No problem,” She says, in lieu of a proper hello, though she’s taking Olivia’s hand and pulling her along as she moves to take a seat back in the booth. It’s hard enough to get a table at the best of times here, let alone a whole booth. “But how comes you’re sitting here all alone when all the good funs out there?”

[cerxlyn-blog]

raleigheverhart·:

The game had been thrilling, but there was a part of her that almost resented it: she doesn’t want to care about this sport, doesn’t want to care about this team, doesn’t want to be on the edge of her seat and following the ball breathlessly across the court with darting eyes. But tonight she had been, more rapt than she had ever been at a football game because, even though she liked football more and knew it better, the stakes had never felt higher than they did with the Foxes. When she’d already lost so much and couldn’t bear the thought of another disappointment, another humiliation. 

“Isn’t that the truth,” she says with an inelegant snort.There’s a part of her that’s glad for her roommate. That she isn’t as starry-eyed and optimistic as some of the other Vixens—and the Foxes themselves—seem to be. She’d made a bet, and she’d gotten lucky, but she’s still the person that Raleigh feels most comfortable letting her bitterness show around. 

And, if they make this a tradition, Raleigh’s pretty sure she can get her back.

And she’ll need to, especially if Cera walks into this party bragging about her victory and announcing the terms of their bet. She leads the way as promised, but she can’t help but look back over her shoulder with a groan: “We’re not keeping this between us? I don’t think public humiliation was part of our terms.” 

  “Aww, you sad that the Foxes won?” Cera’s pretty sure that that’s the furthest thing from the truth – Raleigh seems to be in better spirits than she had during the Foxes’ losses. She knows it’s more her own loss, no matter how trivial, that’s hitting a nerve more than the Foxes’ win. She knows, realistically, that the games mean more to her than they probably do to most of the Vixens – watching every inch of their play as best as she can; judging it, taking it in – wondering if she should try that move in her practice, remembering that she shouldn’t. 

She pouts in mock-sympathy before chirping “Nope!” and offering up the sharpest grin she can muster. “But if you buy me two then maybe it’ll also buy my silence? But there’s only one way to be sure of that,” She’s willing to keep the source of her liquor on the down-low if that’s what Raleigh really wants – and, of course, as long as she benefits from it too. It’s not like she can’t afford her own alcohol, it’s just that free alcohol always tastes better. And it’s not like she expects the Foxes to win again for a while, so she’d rather enjoy it while she can. And if enjoying it includes getting shit-faced with her roommate, then so be it. “So what’ll it be, Ray? One or two?”

[cerxlyn-blog]

jenbrookhart·:

“Even better,” Jen laughs a little breathlessly, relieved that it’s only Cera and not someone who’d have an entirely different reaction. Their ears ring a little from the loud crash that echoed through the court, no longer used to being in the middle of colliding racquets. Back in the day, they used to hear that sound as they tried to sleep at night. Jen squats to grab their lost racquet before righting themself and grinning at Cera. It’s always nicer to play with someone else, even if they’re trying to be discreet. 

“No, you can stay. I like partners,” They reassure her as they nudge the bucket of balls with their sneaker as an offer. “If anyone walks in on us, we can just say it’s opposite day.” That’d be a weird sight. Two Vixens practicing drills days before one of the biggest games of the season. Jen should be practicing their routines, but they pretty much have the choreography down. Besides, they’re not looking to challenge themself right now. They’re supposed to be clearing their mind and all that.

“What position do you play?” Jen asks curiously. They’re not surprised to hear that another Vixen knows Exy. It’s not like it’s unheard of to actually know the sport you cheer for. Jen couldn’t imagine supporting a sport they knew nothing about. They’d feel like an idiot if they were on the sidelines of a football game, not understanding what they’re even supposed to be excited about. 

She can’t deny that she’s interested in Jen; that she wants to ask them the cut-throat question of why did you give it up? How could you? But she could never; cheerleading is beautiful, it’s fierce; and Exy is vibrant, grand; and neither one of them could ever outweigh the other. The only difference was that as far as her future was concerned, Exy offers a career and cheerleading isn’t taken quite so seriously.

What position do you play– she wants to say she doesn’t play anymore, to change the tense and push it away -- or at least, that’s what she should do, if she wanted to do right by her mother’s wishes. But she’s always loved Exy, always has and always will – and it’s not like she doesn’t still play, the fact that she’s kitted up with a stolen racquet is the very proof of that. “I’m a Striker,” She says,not missing a single beat and with the full confidence of someone deserving of the title. It’s so easy to pretend; to get all dressed up and wear the badge of Striker like it’s a medal; to pretend, just for a moment, that it’s not something out of reach.

And she’d like to pretend that she knows all about the Foxes,and given her position, even more about the Vixen that used to play, but she doesn’t. So she asks them, “What about you? What’s your position?” and then after a moment she adds,  “Bet I was the last person you expected to see on court like this.”

[jenbrookhart]

Date: October 9 Location: Foxhole Court (open)

Jen twists the racquet in their hands idly, the weight of it unfamiliar after going so many months without playing. They don’t know how they ended up here, standing alone in the Foxhole Court with their old racquet. One minute Jen working on their history paper and the next, they were digging through their closet and making their way to the court. Maybe, it’s an old habit that randomly came back to them. Back in Georgia, they used to put off difficult assignments, choosing to toss the ball around instead.

Maybe, it’s the upcoming Raven’s game. Not that the other games have been boring so far, but it’s the Foxes’ first game against one of the Big Three, and Jen can’t help but feel a little nostalgic about it. They spent that year with the Foxes feeling like they shouldn’t be there, and now it’s almost like they’re doing a disservice by not being there. By being on the sidelines and not the court. They hate this feeling. Indecisiveness. It’s not like Jen regrets their choice to leave, but they can’t pretend like they don’t sometimes have doubts.

They’ll just get it out of their system, they decide–toss the ball around the court a little, and it’ll be fine. Finally, they pick up the racquet, shifting it a few times to get the right grip. Just then, the door to the court opens, startling Jen enough to drop their racquet with a loud crash. Head whipping up, the shoot the newcomer a guilty look before stepping away from the evidence. “I–uh–found it and was just returning it,” Jen stammers, gaze going to the bucket of balls. No one is going to believe that excuse. Sighing, their shoulders droop. “Just…don’t tell anyone?”

[cerxlyn-blog]

She should know better than to go anywhere near the court. She’s been caught there too many times to be playing it safe and any day now she’s going to end up running into Grant or Claudia or even Wymack cleaning up after a practice; and while it’s easy to explain it away as this or that, there’s only so many lies and excuses she can use before someone’s going to notice a pattern and call her out for it.  

When she noticed someone through the plexiglass, Jen was one of the last people she expected to have found here. But she’s not surprised, either. They’re the same, in a way, they just seem to have had a little more input in what they wanted. And while part of her can't fathom why they'd ever give it up, she also understands completely; if it ever came down to it, she's not sure she'd be able to actually choose between Exy and Cheer anymore. And she doesn’t blame them for missing Exy, or craving it, or whatever it is that’s brought them back here; she knows the feeling better than anyone and telling anyone else that they’re here without her having any official reason to be either feels like the fastest way to get herself into trouble.

“Truce? Neither of us were here,” She says, because even though she knows that Jen doesn’t want anyone to know they were here – ultimately, Jen was a fox before, and unlike with her, they’d probably be thrilled to find them back here showing even the slightest interest in it. “Do you want me to leave you? I can come back later.” Besides, she’s pretty sure that the Foxes would be mortified enough to find one Vixen on their court, and even less thrilled at the prospect of two. “Or I can stay and we can play as partners?”

[cerxlyn-blog]

asterlingfox‌:

“Then who gave you permission? Because they obviously don’t know what they’re talking about if they said you could be here,” Sterling snaps, refusing to let the point go, clamped onto the notion that there’s been an invasion, an Other where there shouldn’t be. Nevermind the way the Vixens use the court to practice when they’re not on it - she’s in gear, a sheep in wolf’s clothing as far as he’s concerned, and his hackles are still raised when he moves to grab the racquet from her hand. “Sasha will kill you herself when she finds out you’ve been touching her things.” It’s not necessarily true; knowing Sasha, if he went out of his way to tell her what had happened, she’d side with the other woman involved just to spite him. 

If the look on her face is anything to go by - and it’s only he’s very familiar with, even if hers is just a variation on a theme that dates back to his first week on campus three years ago, butting heads with anyone and everyone who would stand still long enough - he’s found a button to push, a weak beam to lean on, and lean he will. 

“It’s really not,” he insists, derision in his tone and the twist of his mouth and the scoff of a laugh that coughs at the end of the sentence. The idea that anyone but a Fox could claim as much right to this space as he has is laughable. “You’re not practicing what it is you’re supposed to do on this court, so you don’t have any good reason to be here. Playing dress up-” It’s really not, if her deftness with the racquet when he walked in is anything to go by. “-is not what you’re here to do.” There’s barely a breath before he’s continuing on, picking up momentum and latching on to anything, every handhold he can find to help him crowd her out. “We don’t do this for stress relief,” he sneers, and he can feel the idea snaring on the strings of how important this sport is to him in his chest, “it’s a sport. We do this to compete, not just look pretty while the real athletes are breaking between halves.” 

“The other night I was here with Octavia,” She says, as though it’s an answer to his question. “And I’ve practiced with Raph and a couple others too. All said they weren’t bothered by me being here. You’re the only one who seems to have a problem. Do I threaten you or something?” It’s a ridiculous accusation, and she knows that she’s far too tiny to even be considered a threat; but she’s hoping it’ll be enough to get him to leave the matter alone. “Let her come at me for it, I’d rather deal with her than you.” Her only encounter with Sasha didn’t go the best, and she’d rather avoid her for now if she can, but she has a feeling it’d be easier to deal with her than him, especially right now.

His words strike right where he wants them to and it hurts. She’s pretty sure her expression betrays her for a moment before she manages to collect herself, bite back as hard as she can. “Yeah, you’re right. Playing for quarters is nothing compared to throwing each other up in the sky wearing next to nothing. You ever seen the strain or bruises we get? I know we just do it so that you can all go bitch to each-other about the one guy that scratched your helmet but don’t disregard us for a fucking circus act.” Exy means the world to her—but ultimately, so does cheerleading. She hates the thought of dissing one to support the other, and even more so if it means making an enemy out of one of the Foxes, but she’s not going to stand for letting him talk shit about the Vixens. “I’m not playing dress up,” She says, calmer, and repeats her story for the third time so far, completely honest this time, “I’m a cheerleader who used to play Exy. I’d still be playing it if I could be, so don’t you fucking dare say anything about how I gave it up. But I was missing it and it is stress relief. You’ve already made it clear to me that the only purpose you see to play is to compete, which I can’t exactly do here by myself anyway, but if you want the court, then I’m afraid you’re either going to have to put up with me until I’m done, or you’re going to have to fuck off.”

[cerxlyn-blog]

raleigheverhart·:

She supposes she deserves this: she made a bet, she lost, and now she has to pay up. And it’s not like that’s a great hardship for her, with the Everharts’ credit card tucked into her wallet, but it is enough to put a slight damper on her enthusiasm—a reminder that the Foes only won when Raleigh stood to lose. Even though it’s not like they knew.

And she’d probably do it again. It would be great if the Foxes turned a corner, became again the winning team they’d been so-briefly last season, when Raleigh had cheered for a different team. It’d be great if they became a team that Raleigh didn’t have to be ashamed to cheer for. But then—if they did, then they wouldn’t really be the Foxes. They’d earned their reputation. They’d lost more over the years than they’d won. 

If she’s going to be placing more bets, then she’s going to make ones with history on her side. 

“You don’t waste any time,” she says, dryly, though she isn’t really surprised. If the tables were turned, she would have done exactly the same thing. She pulls out her phone, taps on the screen and then looks up at Cera. “Looks like there’s a liquor store in walking distance. If you come with me, I’ll get you your bottle. I’ll even be generous and let you pick it out.” And, bet or not bet, she can get one for herself.

Honestly, it’s not like Cera genuinely expected the Foxes to win, given their luck up until this point, but the bet was harmless fun and actually winning it made it that much better. She knows that the odds weren’t in her favour, and although it’s half tempting to try her luck with double odds-- she knows better than to make another one with the Raven’s game up and coming. Maybe next time. Two wins in a row seems very unlikely for them to be able to pull when their only win so far was thanks to pure luck in overtime.

“Why should I? There’s no guarantee when we’ll have another chance to celebrate, so I might as well make the most of it,” Drinking sounds like the perfect way to celebrate a Fox win. Especially since it’s not coming out of her pocket. If there’s one thing she can’t deny the Foxes, it’s their ability to turn anything into an excuse to party. Except, of course, when they do have the misfortune of losing.She’s already getting tired of everyone’s individual pity parties for one. “Plus I need physical evidence to show to the others to prove that I beat you at something or I doubt they’d believe me.” Which would be fair, except for the fact that betting against the Foxes’chances at winning is probably one of the most believable things Raleigh could be said to have done. “Just lead the way and I’ll follow.”

[cerxlyn-blog]

striker-brayden·:

Brayden averts his gaze as she reads the name aloud, mentally cursing himself for still carrying it around. To an outsider, it probably seems like something so small to get so messed up over, having his brother’s business card. Brayden figures it’s more what it symbolizes than what it actually is that has him this way. Landon is trying to weasel his way back into his life for some reason, and it’s up to Brayden whether he lets it happen. 

“For the Ravens? Yeah right,” He lets out a humorless snort as he shoves his hands in his pockets, so he doesn’t continue looking like an idiot by waiting for her to give the card back. “He’s my brother,” He mutters, clearing his throat after his voice cracks a little at the end, hoping to play it off as an oncoming cold or something. As much as he doesn’t want to talk about Landon, there’s no point in lying. All it takes is a Google search to find the truth. Brayden hasn’t mentioned his brother in an interview before, but Landon has made a few casual comments.

“Well, then, you take it,” Brayden shrugs. He doesn’t get why a cheerleader would think a Raven’s business card is valuable, but he isn’t going to question it. If she wants to ditch the Vixens for them, he doesn’t really give a shit. Besides, if he can’t force himself to just throw away the damn card, then he can at least let someone else take it off his hands.

 “Still pretending to be a good and loyal Fox? It’s a good act, I must say,” She knows better, of course, and although she’s just fucking about, she’s not sure how it reads. “But I think you could do better than the Ravens. By either joining literally any other team, or by literally just staying with the Foxes.” She says, as though she wouldn’t jump at the chance to be on the Ravens. They were always fairly low down on her list back when she still thought there was a chance that maybe she could get an Exy scholarship, given their scandal with how they treated players all those years ago, but that doesn’t mean they’re not a good team statistically speaking.

“I’d keep hold of this card to save you the effort, but I think it’s more heart-warming if you do the whole I avoided the temptation and threw it out myself bit.” It was almost tempting to pocket it, as though she has any use for it. But if her problem was simply that of joining a team, she wouldn’t have let it become a problem in the first place. Her problem with joining a team is more about her inability to do so without the judgement from the one person she seeks to impress. And even though it’s only been with her for a second, and even though even if she did happen to call the number and ask for a place on the team, nothing would likely come of it, it still feels pretty shitty when she holds it out for him. “Also means I can avoid the temptation of getting the rest of the Vixen Den together the night before their next game and prank-calling that number and probably also getting you into trouble for it.” 

[cerxlyn-blog]

cadxmitchell·:

Leaning against the plexiglass wall, Cade clicked his tongue and shook his head with a small smile. It was still taking time for him to adjust to the Den; to the constant chaos and his conflicted feelings over being a Vixen. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d originally meant to quit after he made sure that Alanna would be okay. But now they were a month in and Cade was still a Vixen. “Sometimes you just need to get away, you know? Nothing wrong with the Den,” Cade replied with a shrug. “Can’t really get high here, but there’s something weird about the court that’s… peaceful when no one is here.”

Once upon a time he didn’t give a shit about Exy other than occasionally checking in to see how the Foxes were doing. He only went to a handful of games, usually sitting up at the very top and messing around. Since the start of the school year, Cade had become much more committed beyond just checking the score. Partly out of obligation but also out of interest. Now he wanted to see the Foxes win.

Other Vixens had far more interest in Exy straight from the start. Alanna certainly did and as Cade was quickly learning, so did Cera. He raised his eyebrows in shock at her explanation, not sure who would have told Cera such a thing and if there was as much bitterness as he felt or if he was imagining it. “Okaaaay,” Cade dragged out. “Playing Exy doesn’t just automatically make you a volatile bitch. I doubt there’s nothing you can do, have you even tried to talk to Coach Wymack?” He realized it was likely a dumb question, but it seemed like the most obvious answer.

“I doubt you want to hear the whole speech about doing what you want and not letting anyone make decisions for you… but seriously, why not? If anything, you might be able to practice with the Foxes every once in awhile. Cheering is fun, but sometimes it isn’t enough.”

She gets it; while Cera sees the court as a sort of sanctuary, whether it’s to cheer or to play, it’s an escape no matter what. And it’s only natural that other’s hold the same sentiment. “If you wanna get out of here, we can find somewhere where you can get high? And maybe where I can borrow one off of you for helping you find it?” It’s said with a laugh, a safety valve to call it a joke in case he doesn’t want to.

“Tell me about it,” She says, eyes tipping into the back of her head. If only her mother could realise her temperament was her fault, and not the strange side-effect of her favourite pastime. “And no, I get the feeling that if a cheerleader came up to him asking for a place on the team then I’m not sure it’d be taken super seriously.” It’s one thing for a Fox to become a cheerleader – it’s seen as a step down and she knows it, but it feels like as a cheerleader, asking to be a Fox would be asking to step up above what they think of her. And while Wymack seems pretty friendly and understanding and would probably give her the time of day to show him why – after all, she honestly doubts anyone would be able to coach the Foxes and not have that sort of patience and outlook – there’s still an overwhelmingly daunting what if. Besides, it’s not like her mother’s suddenly averted her eyes now that she’s a couple hours further down the road.

“Cheering is more than enough,” She says, and it’s the truth – she loves the Vixens. Loves the proximity to the Foxes, loves the way that they’ve taken her in as one of them without a shred of doubt, loves the way that even now when there’s the possibility that she’d be happier elsewhere, one of them is telling her that it’s fine and that she should do what makes her happy. Cheering is more than enough, but the problem is that she’s very rarely satisfied—always craving more, more, more. “Besides, if I was an actual Fox attending actual practices, then who would accompany you at times like this when you decide to wander onto the court at weird hours?”

[striker-brayden]

Location: Outside the hotel  Date: Friday, October 5 Time: Post-Game (open)

Brayden checks the time on his phone and figures he’s been at this room party for long enough. Thirty minutes was enough time for him to have his free drink and show his face, so no one could give him shit for not being “part of the team.” He had that fight enough the previous years, and doesn’t feel like having it tonight. It’s not like he even has a right to be there, considering he didn’t actually help the team win. Instead of contributing to the excitement, he’s daydreaming about his hotel bed, the hotel cable and wifi, and maybe his roommate too. 

He slips out of the room unnoticed, and decides to go for a smoke break before hiding away in his room for the rest of the night. As he steps outside, he shivers from the cold breeze and lifts his hood over his head, digging in his pocket for his lighter. As he pulls it out, a piece of paper falls out with it–his brother’s business card, which has his name and phone number on it. It’s not like he intentionally brought it here. He must’ve switched it from his suit jacket to his sweatshirt. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t just throw it away. Honestly, he refuses to let himself think about it.

Bending down to pick it up, a hand grabs it before he can, causing him to stand straight so fast that he makes himself dizzy. “That’s just–uh–you know what? You can just throw that way. Don’t want to litter, right?” He stammers, holding out a hand for the business card. 

[cerxlyn-blog]

Cera can't deny that her favourite part about away games is the freedom of getting to go places; South Carolina is her home, where she was born and raised, and Palmetto was more of a convenience than anything else. But there's something so nice about getting to go to fancy hotels and get so lost in Exy for a whole day without having to worry about how her family are so close, waiting for her to fuck up, to tell her they disagree with what she wants and what she's doing. 

And for all she wants to stay in, enjoy the hotel and the luxuries of it, she also wants to go and explore-- a little tipsy from the alcohol in her system. And while wandering past Brayden, normally, she'd have left it to him to pick up for himself -- but she's in good spirits, and it is thanks to the Foxes, so the least she could do is pick up whatever the card is for him. And she's half way to handing it back until she catches sight of the Edgar Allen emblem on the corner, and she pulls it back to skim over it properly. 

"Landon Sykes," She reads, tone making it sound as though it's a scandal. Even though she recognised the name vaguely, a fortunate result of how she was extremely up to date on her collegiate Exy knowledge, if not for the fact that the card straight up said it, she probably wouldn't have put two and two together and realised that he was one of the Raven's staff. "Any relation or are you just planning on bailing on our team? Either way, this card doesn't seem like trash to me."

[raleigheverhart]

Location: Hotel Date: Friday, October 5 Time: Post-Game (open)

She’s still wearing her uniform. It’s the first time she hasn’t wanted to take it off as soon as possible after a game. 

She likes to win, she knows that. Likes to cheer for a winning team. That part isn’t surprising. What is is the way that, for the first time, she felt it: white-knuckled and on the edge of her seat, following the ball up and down the court with rapt eyes and held breath, wanting a win so much she could feel it, feel it in the extra power she put into her voice, like she’d scream herself hoarse if the Foxes would only just score. And, this time, they had, and the fight they showed on the court seemed for once admirable instead of pathetic. Finally, a win.

It might all be gone next game. Knowing the Foxes, and knowing her luck, it probably will be. And maybe then she’ll feel foolish, for feeling this way tonight, but right now she sees no reason not to let herself get caught up in it. 

They’re supposed to be on their best behavior. Under Coach Corey’s watchful eyes, who Raleigh is sure cares just as little about this win as most people probably expected Raleigh to. But she’s also sure that what Coach Corey thinks or wants really isn’t going to stop anybody. It’s not going to stop her. 

But, she realizes, she doesn’t actually know what the Foxes do after a win. “So,” she asks. “What happens now?” 

[cerxlyn-blog]

Game day always leaves her with such unfiltered energy -- buzzing with the need to move, to do something. She knows why; and although cheerleading is still tiring -- it's not comparable to feeling left after actually playing. And while over the course of the last two games, the loss had been enough for her to get over it; to forget about Exy and have a few drinks and act like nothing even happened.

But now that they've actually managed a win, however, there's nothing she wants to do more than bask in this moment of glory. To use it as an excuse to have as much fun as she wants and to wear the team's name like a badge of honour.  And Raleigh seems like the perfect starting point for that given her lack of confidence in their ability to actually win.

"Now," She starts, tone confident with team spirit; contrary to the slight uncertainty she'd sported when initially making the bet. Good to see that optimism can get her places. "I believe you owe me a drink. Or, better yet, as you so kindly offered, a whole bottle."

[cerxlyn-blog]

cadxmitchell·:

Cade’s attention is caught now, wondering what happened that fate decisioned that Cera would end up being a cheerleader and not playing Exy. He hardly knew her skill level or what skill level was even required–maybe she just hadn’t been good enough. Or maybe she was torn between two passions? That sounded more romantic and movie-line than reality but he was sure it happens to some. That’s the odd thing about people, it took one bit of information to try to piece together a whole book about someone when you knew nothing about them. He wondered what his book would read like… but that thought quickly made him sick to his stomach.

“All my other haunts are either occupied or inaccessible at the moment,” Cade answered with a shrug. “And I’ve always wondered what the court feels like when no one is around. During games, there’s always so much going on off and on the court.” DIdn’t matter if they were at Palmetto or road-tripping somewhere else to another court. It still took him a long time to adjust to the chaos and the tension of Exy. He’d been to some other sporting events, some with his dad, but none of them had ever really made him feel the same way as an Exy game.

“If you wanted Exy, why didn’t you go for it?” Cade asks, tossing the ball into Cera’s court. He didn’t really want to talk about the real reason he’d come here. He’s spent enough time sounding pathetic to himself. “Isn’t that what they always tell us when we’re kids? Go for your dreams, do what you want, and all that bullshit.”

Cera loves the court at the best of times -- but even more so now, when the lights are mostly off, when the seats are all empty and there's no one else around. There's so much peace to be found. "This ones occupied too, technically." She says, light-hearted, before adding, "Vixen Den not good enough for you?"

But then he asks her why she doesn't play directly -- and she can't help but find it jarring. She’s already deflected the conversation once, so she doesn’t doubt it’ll come back anyway. And her old Exy team and cheersquad knew -- she had owed them the explanation of why she had to be so messy between them, but she hadn't really wanted to tell the Vixens or the Foxes anything about it. She didn't want their pity, but she also didn't like the idea of coming up with some elaborate, run-around lie.  "Because apparently it makes me a volatile bitch," It was the simplest description of it, and hearing it out-loud never makes it sound less ridiculous; she stopped playing because her mother asked her to, because she thought no man would ever want her if she was mean and muscular and sharp. Which always seems funny to her, because she's pretty sure her eventual wife won't really care if she's not delicate and soft. "And I let the person who thinks that make my mind up for me and now there's not really a whole lot that can be done so I'm just going with it. It's not really a big deal, I love cheering too." Which isn’t technically a lie, but she’d hand in her pom-poms for a racquet any day.

[cerxlyn-blog]

octavia-dawson·:

“Your secret is sorta safe with me.” Spinning her racquet aimlessly, Octavia glanced around the court picking up on the small details to connect the dots. Most Vixens weren’t all that interested in Exy itself, only providing the usual pride or consolation when the Foxes win or lose. To see one semi-geared up to play was a delight that stirred up her curiosity. “First time on this court or ever? Because it seems like you’re pretty good with that racquet.” 

She took a big step forward, leaning in to get a good look at the kit Cera was using. It wasn’t hers that’s for sure. “Boy, I bet you are happy that it was me. Not many Foxes would be happy to see their kit on someone that isn’t on the team. They’d go straight for your eyes in fact.” A simple joke, but one that could easily morph into the truth. Not every Fox was friendly and some were a tiny bit territorial.

Glancing down at her racquet’s taping, she grinned at Cera with a sudden idea. “Quid pro quo? Help me with my shooting practice and I’ll be out of your way quick enough for you to get more alone time in here?” 

"Sorta safe," Cera repeats, more to herself than anything. Right. For all she knew that should've been concerning -- which, don't get her wrong, it was. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain to Wymack why she was in someone's kit, on the court, fucking with their things -- she didn't think Octavia actually meant it. Though she had a feeling that was more wishful thinking than anything else. "I'm a really, really, really  fast learner. I watched a how-to on YouTube and now I'm basically ready to be drafted for Court." It was far fetched, though from what she can tell-- that seems to be Octavia's brand. And appealing to that might gain her more brownie points than being dead serious with her would.

"I'd be happier if I knew this was going to stay between us for sure," But Octavia wasn't wrong, either. She knew the Foxes reputation, and she's smart enough to know that there doesn't tend to be smoke without fire. And although most of the Foxes seem pretty chill, she doesn't doubt that some will turn volatile if they were to find her here instead. 

She's down to help out Octavia with her practice, though, especially if it means she gets more time to try things out afterwards. But shooting practice sounds like a good time anyway, and even if she's not sure there's any purpose to her actually practicing properly, she likes the idea of it. "You wanna do play-bys and have me try and take possession from you, or you want me to stand in goal and try and keep you out?"

[cerxlyn-blog]

caseyhxndrix·:

They raise an eyebrow at how fast she agrees, but they’re silently glad not to be left alone on the court just now, knowing very well that their own way of coping, pushing their body to the limit to try to distract from everything else, and focus on what they could control, wasn’t exactly a habit they needed to be getting back into just now. Just like other habits they didn’t need to getting back into, and yet. What mattered just now was that she was a friendly face, even if they didn’t know her by much more than sight, and they could focus on someone else instead of everything on their mind.

“I don’t really know if it’s really my court yet, anyway; feel like I haven’t quite gotten to true Fox status, yet,” they said with a laugh and a wave of their free hand, giving her a smile. A joke that was maybe a little too spot on, but maybe she hadn’t been keeping up with all of the Foxes messes, when the Vixens seemed to have so many of their own lately.

“Another backliner, nice! Honestly, I was mostly just looking to take my mind off things for a bit, maybe a few basic passing drills, nothing too strenuous,” Casey shrugged, as if it was all so simple. There was no reason it didn’t need to be, at least right now. “I’m Casey, by the way, but it kind of sounds like you might’ve known that already. So, did you play in high school, then?”

"You seem more at home than a couple of the other Foxes here," She watches the Foxes whenever she can; even if most of that is in the small period between the start of the Vixen practices on the court and the ends of the Foxes, that's still enough for her to work out what's what. "And I hate to be the one to ask--But what do you mean by true Fox status?"

She feels the slightest bit embarrassed to admit it, nodding along to their assumption that she'd already know who they are, and she briefly wonders if they see her as a fan rather than a player. Which would be unfortunate, but at least it means she wouldn't have to explain herself choosing to cheer for the Foxes as much. 

It's been less than a year since she was last able to play on her high school team, but it feels like a life-time. "I was  even the Captain for a little while," Then she had to become a part-time member of the team and that was---less than ideal for a team captain. "Guess it wasn't for me. But I miss it." 

"If you're looking to just be doing a couple of passing drills, then it's probably best I'm here for you anyway. Walls make for dull partners." It's a light-hearted tug at the situation; she's not really worried at all about the possibility of Casey telling anyone that she's here; they don't seem even remotely bothered by her being here. "I'm Cera, in case you were wondering. If you wanna lead the way, then I’ll gladly follow suit."

[cerxlyn-blog]

raleigheverhart·:

There are some things that Raleigh should do but won’t. Bow and scrape to Coach Corey. Act like she’s grateful to Vivian. Bite her tongue when the Foxes lose. Act like she’s happy to be here. She can manage them sometimes, as best as she can, stay smiling and silent and hope people will fill in the blanks the way she wants them to, won’t assume the worst of her—even when they would be right to.

She has her pride, and she still clings to it, because once it felt like it was all she had. Maybe Coach Corey would like it if Raleigh were apologetic and groveling, Vivian probably would, too—but Raleigh can’t do that. She isn’t going to make herself small or subservient to anyone, will dig her heels in and bare her teeth until they know that she isn’t someone they can expect to back down. 

“Yeah, thanks for the advice, but I think I’ll pass,” she says, unable to keep her nose from wrinkling at the thought of it. She’d sucked up to Coach Corey before, when she thought it would get her what she wanted—and it didn’t, so why the hell would she put herself in that position again?  

And maybe she shouldn’t be shit-talking the Foxes at their own banquet, either, but that doesn’t feel like as big of a deal, because Cera doesn’t really seem to mind. It’s a relief, it’s a pressure valve, letting her vent some of her frustrations before the next time she has to smile and pretend, wait and hope for the time that it doesn’t feel like pretending anymore. “Consider it a bet. If the Foxes win, I won’t just give you a toast, I’ll buy you a whole damn bottle. What do you say—you in?”

"And here I was thinking I could get a new uniform out of it," She draws her brows together in faux-disappointment, "Not that I blame you, Corey seems to know who and where her priorities lie. I don't think any brand of suck-upery would get her attention on us Vixens." Cera knows that sucking up to people to get what you want never works; if it did she wouldn't be on Raleigh's team. She'd instead be with the Foxes-- or, more preferably, literally any team other than the Foxes. 

There's something shameful talking shit about the Foxes like it'll solve her problems; as though it's their fault she's not playing and not the result of her own inability to stand up for herself where it really counts. But it's easier this way; if she plays along, laughs when they fail and parties when they don't. It's a win-win either way; a stress relief within Exy, just in a new, roundabout form.

"I'm in," At least she's got some faith in the Foxes. Enough to potentially get her a drink; though a bets only fun if there's two sides, something to win, something to lose. "And if they continue to fuck up, what do you want? Other than the satisfaction of knowing they managed to keep their current streak going, obviously."

[cerxlyn-blog]

raph-peruggia·:

“Yes, I am Raph. I do not know your name.” He says, setting his duffle on the sidelines before he jogs up to meet her on the court. How unfamiliar she is becomes more and more obvious the closer he gets. If he’d ever been in contact with her, he would remember her hair. It’s the kind of garish, vibrant orange that would make her a complete liability for any covert operation.

For a moment he wonders if she’s a spy sent by another team. If she is a spy, how she’s chosen to infiltrate the Foxes, practicing alone outside of scheduled hours, makes little sense. Though the fact that she’s grilling him for details on a drill Raph knows she wasn’t around to witness does raise some suspicions. He twists his racquet in his hand, considering his options. He doesn’t have enough reason to believe she is a spy, but that doesn’t mean he wants to give information away for free, especially not when she seems to find it very valuable. “I propose a trade,” he says after a moment, dropping down into preliminary stretches. “If you show me how you keep your rebounds that accurate, then I will walk you through the drill.”

"Cera," She says, and then to add some clarification, so that he has no reason to question her being here, "I'm one of the Vixens. Try not to look too surprised." Not that she thinks he will; he seems relatively eloquent so far and seems the type to keep any sharp opinions to himself -- but then again, he's a Fox, so she knows that she should knows better than to make a quick judgement based on a first impression.

"It's a deal," She agrees easily. If this goes well -- assuming that he does follow through, and teaches her the drill and that she's able to show him how to perform the rebounds in a way that he can find useful, then so long as he does truly keep this between the two of them, she might ask to do this again. So long as its mutually beneficial, there's no reason for there to be any problem with it. "Though just a warning, I haven't played properly in months, so there might be a small learning curve." She doesn't think it'll be an issue, but just in case; practising alone hasn't showed her any weak points, but she doesn't know how she'll perform now that she has someone to work alongside.

[cerxlyn-blog]

asterlingfox·: 

“Bullshit,” Sterling replies, shaking his head and coming closer, his own racquet held in his hand like an extension of his own arm; he’s here so much it almost feels strange to be anywhere else, he feels strangely bereft when he’s not in his gear and practice uniform. His footsteps echo around the court as he strides closer, swipes up the abandoned ball into his net; not even a week has passed since this place was full of strangers, people who don’t deserve to feel anything but unwelcome as opponents, and now there’s an unfamiliar face here when there shouldn’t be, and Sterling’s already thin veneer of civility when it comes to exy is wearing through. “It matters. Who let you in here?”

 “Who gave you that gear? This court is for team members only, rec teams play on the basketball court on Sundays.”  Any exy players on campus who haven’t made it to the team play intramural on weekends, divvied up into teams on campus who wear neon jerseys and drink an excess of beer that Sterling can’t imagine makes the running any easier. “I don’t give a shit if you care,” he says, hand cutting through the air dismissively, “I care - what makes you think you can be here?” 

"I let myself in," Cera definitely doesn't have a key to herself - for all she knows that Wymack gives all of the Foxes their own so that they can practice to their hearts content, the Vixens aren't given that same privilege. Borrowing Vivian's key to the court, under the guise that she thought she left her phone in the locker room. And while it'd probably be better if she were to blame it on someone else - say that Wymack or even another Fox let her in, she doesn't want to get in anymore trouble than she already thinks she might be, so it's probably best for her to just be honest here. "And the gear was just in the locker room. Not my fault Sasha happens to be close to my size and happened to leave her locker unlocked." It wasn't, but it wasn't hard to get it open either.

And it's grating on her nerves how she knows that he's a Fox -- yet he has no idea that she's a Vixen. She knows it's not the same; that most of the Foxes aren't really close to the Vixens and definitely don't see them the same way. It's no secret that the while Vixens haven’t got much choice but to watch every Fox game along the sidelines, the Foxes spend the half-time Vixen performances in the locker rooms having breakdowns and listening to Wymack's pep talks and complaints. "I'm a Vixen, this court is mine as much as its yours. Just because I'm the supporting act doesn't mean it's not our playing field too. And I already told you, I was just messing about, thought I'd give it a go. You guys seem to think it's good enough stress relief - why can't I try my hand?"