Joe hated moving. He’d only done it once before and then it’d been a short move only an hour away from his childhood home. Amelio was on the other side of the country. Now hundreds of miles away from home, Joe would have to force himself to settle in at the school. He closed his dorm room door behind him and gently set his guitar case down on the empty desk pushed up against the wall before tossing his duffle bag on the bed. He sat down next to his bag and let out a loud exhale, forcing himself to relax, and looked around the room. It was nice, nicer than his room at the group home. The space was clean. The furniture looked sturdier, more expensive. It’d never be home, but it’d do.
He unzipped his duffle bag and pulled out the Bible resting on top of his clothing. He turned to 2 Samuel 7:29 and read the passage softly. “Now therefore may it please you to bless the house of your servant, so that it may continue forever before you. For you, O Lord God, have spoken, and with your blessing shall the house of your servant be blessed forever.” Joe had no idea who his roommate would be, but he was sure God understood that if his roommate wasn’t a servant of the Lord, Joe’s side of the room still deserved to be blessed. He walked over to the desk that would be his and slid open the top drawer to set the Bible in.
Once the drawer was shut, Joe leaned against the front of the desk and drawer, entirely aware that he was turning his back on the book. It didn’t feel the same. Reading, praying…it used to make him feel connected and peaceful. Now it just left him feeling confused and unsure, doubtful. Joe heard a knock at the door and tried to shake off the deep thoughts. “Come in,” he called out, doing his best to keep his voice bright. He saw a brunette head peek her head around the door. As the door swung open, Joe saw it belonged to a girl who appeared to be around his age. Joe listened to the girl introduce himself before responding. “Hi Marley, I’m Joe. It’s nice to meet you,” he greeted with a smile and awkwardly reached over to shake hands.
Joe was born in Auburn, Washington, a liberal suburb of Seattle, to David and Sarah Hart. The Harts were always an extremely close family. David owned a music shop and Sarah was a stay at home mom, which allowed her to homeschool Joe. As a result of David’s interest in music, Joe developed his own interest in playing guitar and singing. In addition to being a musical family, the Harts were also devout Christians and very active in the church. Joe practically grew up in the church and since his early years, he's been passionate about pursuing a career in music or ministry. Due to his homeschooling, Joe rarely had an opportunity to interact with many other kids his own age.
When Joe was seventeen, he went on a faith retreat with his brother in upstate Washington. It was the first time Joe had spent more than a few hours with other teens and he actually found himself having a good time and meeting new people, potential friends even. By the end of the retreat, he’d made plans with several of the other attendees to meet up and hang out once the retreat was over.
Both of his parents had come to pick he and Adam up, and as they were driving home they hit black ice. The resulting car accident had been horrific. The car spun out, hit the embankment and flipped several times over before landing yards away from the road. It was dark when Joe’s eyes blinked open. He could feel blood trickling down the side of his head and sent up a silent prayer. Please let me be okay. Disorientation making it difficult, he tried to look around the vehicle to see if his family is okay. He couldn’t find his brother, even though he should have been right next to him. His father wasn’t in the driver’s seat anymore, but that could have had something to do with the broken windshield. The only person he could see was his mother who looked to have a massive head-wound and something from the car impaling her stomach. There was blood…so much blood, and she wasn’t moving. It was at that moment, Joe realized how bad things were.
"Please, God, don’t take them all away from me. Please, please. I need them. Make her better. They can’t all die," Joe desperately prayed under his breath. And for a moment, it seemed like his prayers were answered or his mother heard his desperate whispers. She opened her eyes slowly and looked around, eyes catching on something on the floor of the driver’s area before looking back to her eldest. She reached for Joe’s hand, taking it in her own. “I’m fine. I’m okay,” her pained whispers belying her words. “We’ll pray. I’ll pray with you. No selfish prayers, Joseph. We’ll pray for their souls, all of our souls, okay?” Joe immediately knew what she was talking about, a prayer they often repeated when they volunteered at the local hospice.
Almighty and merciful God, who hast bestowed upon mankind saving remedies and the gift of everlasting life, look graciously upon us Thy servants and comfort the souls which Thou hast made, that, in the hour of their passing, cleansed from all stain of sin, they may deserve to be presented to Thee, their Creator, by the hands of the holy angels. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.
Joe repeated the prayer with his mother so many times he lost count. By the time he heard the sirens, his mother wasn’t praying with him anymore. Her eyes had fallen shut, her grip loosened on his hand. As the medics pulled him from the vehicle, Joe couldn’t stop whispering the prayer, set on repeat. Later, Joe found out that he’d been in shock. It was why he’d been so calm at the scene, why he couldn’t stop praying. He and his mother left the accident almost entirely unscathed, despite all the blood. The newspapers credited the miracle with them being the only two wearing seat belts. His father had been flung from the car and killed on impact. His little brother had been thrown to the front of the car, into the well of the driver’s seat, neck snapped. Looking back, Joe knew that was what his mother had seen. She’d kept it together for him, had made him pray for his brother’s soul. The only thing the doctors and papers hadn’t been able to explain was how his mother had started healing around the object impaled in her stomach. Unfortunately though, it hadn’t been enough. She’d passed before the medics pulled her out of the vehicle.
Social Services placed Joe in foster care. The group home he was placed in was okay. It had the basic necessities and because Joe was months from aging out of the system everyone mostly left him alone, which he liked. He was grieving and confused. He couldn’t understand how God could let this happen. He couldn’t help but wonder if his prayers worked…if he hadn’t wasted time praying for himself, could he have saved his family? If his mother hadn’t made him shift his prayers, could he have saved her?
A month into living in foster care, the Head Mistress of Amelio Prep found him and invited him to the school. Joe agreed, only because he felt the school was likely a better option than the group home. He wasn’t sure he wanted to explore this power of healing prayer the Head Mistress claimed he possessed. His mind was too filled with doubts and questions and his faith felt so unusually shaky, Joe didn’t really feel like himself anymore…he wasn’t sure he ever would. At Amelio, Joe knew he’d have to focus on restoring his relationship with God before anything else.
Joe Bio #2
Joe was born in Auburn, Washington, a liberal suburb of Seattle, to David and Sarah Hart. The Harts were always an extremely close family. David owned a music shop and Sarah was a stay at home mom, which allowed her to homeschool Joe. As a result of David’s interest in music, Joe developed his own interest in playing guitar and singing. In addition to being a musical family, the Harts were also devout Christians and very active in the church. Joe practically grew up in the church and since his early years, he's been passionate about pursuing a career in music or ministry. Due to his homeschooling, Joe rarely had an opportunity to interact with many other kids his own age.
Last year, the Hart's decided to relocate to be closer to Joe's ailing grandmother. With so much change occurring, Joe asked for one last big one - he wanted to go to public school. Being in an actual high school with kids his age has been quite an adjustment for Joe. He feels so different from his classmates, in terms of being in touch with pop culture and things of the ilk,e that he's struggled with making friends.
Despite some difficulty he’s had in making friends, Joe is a friendly, open, and outgoing guy. He’s also confident in his faith and way of life. He doesn’t allow others to make him feel bad for his beliefs. So, as long as people are accepting of him, he’s willing to extend his friendship. It’s the Christian thing to do after all.
Kurt followed behind the real estate agent as she showed him around the small estate he'd managed to find in the small town of Lima, OH. He'd already visited the house late last night after hunting down his late night snack. It was too large for him, easily big enough to fit a couple of families, but Kurt preferred open spaces. The home would undoubtedly quickly be filled with nearly three hundred years worth of accumulated possessions once he cleared his storage units in New York City and San Francisco. He'd decided to move on whim, deciding that after living in major cites for nearly all of his very long life, it'd be nice to get away from the hustle bustle of the city. Kurt was also interested in meeting a different type of person, like the woman walking him around today.
She was very…Midwestern. With a Botticelli frame that went out of style over one hundred years ago, she still managed to be charming in the most human of ways. Imperfect, dull, completely unaware of how much danger she was in just by being in his presence. She was a lamb, and if Kurt didn't despise his enemy as much as he did, he'd describe himself as the wolf. Catching up to his tour guide, Kurt lightly touched her on the forearm. "It's really lovely," he interrupted with a smile. "Do you think you could show me the dining area again. I'm getting a little hungry." He playfully pat his stomach as he let his fangs distend and red flood his eyes. He saw the fear cross her features and it sent a little thrill through him. Kurt easily shoved her against the closest wall and bent her head to expose her neck. He could have compelled her to bare it for him willingly, but Kurt had always found his victims' fear exciting. And despite being much kinder than he was hundreds of years ago, he wasn't yet ready to let that go. As he sank his teeth into her, he let his thoughts flow over her simple mind, soothing her as he drained her, compelling her to believe that she wanted this, that she was enjoying it. Once he was done with her, he'd ensure she believed nothing happened beyond a hand off of keys and tour of the house.
Kurt has lived a very long life. Raised amongst a "family" of vampires, Kurt didn't have ties growing up. Despite lacking any sense of loyalty, he spent the first hundred or so years of his life in Europe, using his vampiric connections to live as a noble in Germany, France, and eventually Spain before moving to the Americas during the early 1920s in search of something new. Settling in New York City, he was front and center during the Harlem Renaissance. Hearing word of a movement in the making, Kurt moved to the Haight-Ashbury District in San Francisco during the early 60s. Staying in California for over 40 years, he played the role of angel investor during the dot-com boom, cut his losses after the bust, and moved back to New York City.
During his early years, Kurt was a ruthless vampire with little concern for humanity. He killed for sport rather than sustenance and gained a reputation for being dangerous not only to humans but to other vampires as well. One night changed everything though. Like many nights before it, Kurt stalked a young girl down the dark alleys of Madrid. This girl was different than all the rest though. She didn't scream when he attacked. She didn't turn away from the monster in him, instead reaching up to touch his cheek. The act didn't stop Kurt from getting his fill, but he let her go free and instead spent the next few stalking her from afar, learning her from a distance. When she fell ill and passed, Kurt felt something he could only assume was what humans called heartache.
From that moment on, humanity began to fascinate Kurt. After hearing about new great change happening in the United States, he decided to move to explore it. While Kurt had sired dozens, he'd only taken on other vampires as lovers. With his new outlook and location, Kurt began spending the majority of his time with humans. He took them on as friends and lovers, employees and employers. He found them fascinating, which isn't to mean he didn't continue to feed on them. While he has a soft-spot for humans, they're more entertainment than anything else. Art hanging on a wall for him to view and consume. Kurt's fearsome reputation has lessened somewhat during the last century, however he never hesitates to reassert himself if the need arises. Kurt is still very much a killer. The only difference no is that he likes to have a reason.
Marley didn't have an easy life growing up. Abandoned by her husband when Marley was a baby, Marley's mother struggled to make ends meet. Things came to a head when Marley was five. Her mother couldn't pay the bills for their house in the burbs and they were forced to downsize, significantly. Marley grew up in Lima Heights Adjacent, with criminals as her next door neighbors.
Seeing her peers live their lives so freely, regardless of their parents rules, led Marley to do the same. She still loves her mother dearly, but that doesn't mean she has to listen to her all of the time. Despite never falling into a life of crime herself, Marley fell for a less than savory character during her sophomore year of high school.
Marley's boyfriend is her mother's worst nightmare. He's a twenty year old coke dealer in Lima Heights and Marley is completely in love. She knows what he does and she doesn't really mind it. She's even helped him with small odd jobs like counting money and keeping records. He has a lot of sway over the girl and some would say he takes advantage of her trust.
Despite moving away from Lima Heights Adjacent into a better neighborhood over the summer, Marley still spends the majority of her time there. She likes it there. She likes the people and the somewhat reckless attitude that permeates the neighborhood. Marley often skips school to hang out with her LHA friends and it isn't uncommon for her to show up home at all hours of the night after partying with her old crew or hanging out with her boyfriend.
Mike walked out of the office with a smile on his face and a group of co-workers jovially slapping him on the back in congratulations. All those long nights spent kissing butt and neglecting his wife had been well worth it. They'd closed the deal. His boss's pockets were richer and Mike had no doubt that he'd be receiving his own bonus next paycheck. He didn't think twice about shooting off a quick text to his wife. "It's going to be another all-nighter. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Frowning at his screen for a moment, he composed another short text to send off. "<3" Mike knew he wasn't as affectionate as some husbands. It was an unfortunate family trait he'd inherited from his father, but that didn't mean he couldn't put forth the effort occasionally. Committed to doing just that, Mike composed a memo to himself on his phone to do something special for Brittany when he got home as well.
Speeding off in his Jag, Mike traveled the opposite direction of home and toward one of his favorite places in the city - The House of Wolves. Valet took care of his vehicle and Mike was escorted in to his private booth in the back. Mike frequented the cabaret so often that they always managed to hold a booth for him. That, or they scrambled to clear the booth before he walked through the door every night. Mike greeted his scantily-clad waitress with a friendly smile. "I'm actually celebrating tonight. Let's switch it up. Could you send over a bottle of champagne?" Order placed, Mike turned away from the waitress, ignoring her in favor of catching up with a few work emails on his phone.
A throaty chuckle interrupted him and instead of a waitress leaving his bottle at the table, his favorite performer Santana slid into the booth next to him, uncorked champagne bottle in hand. She plucked his phone from his hands and shoved it into the dangerously low neck of her evening gown. Mike bit his lip as he looked up from her nearly exposed chest to her eyes. Without a word, she smiled and took his hand to lead him to the back rooms. Just as usual, Mike lost track of time when he was with Santana. They ended up going through two bottles of champagne that night and at one point lost the pretense of glasses, instead drinking from the bottle and licking champagne from each other's skin.
By the time Mike walked through his own home door, his skin was sweaty and sticky, his clothes rumpled with a few buttons ripped, and his wallet empty. He felt satiated but exhausted after his hard week at work and long night celebrating. He quietly made his way to the guest room and showered, cleaning himself up and preparing for bed. It was late, past midnight, but Mike had the presence of mind to stop at a grocery store on his way home and pick up a dozen roses. He grabbed a vase from the kitchen and filled it with water, artfully shoving the flowers into it. Carrying the arrangement to his bedroom, he set it on his sleeping wife's night stand, hoping she'd see it as soon as she woke up. He crawled into bed and for fear of waking her up and out of simple habit, he didn't bother cuddling up behind her. Instead he turned his back to her to face his own nightstand. Picking up his phone, he deleted the reminder to himself to do something nice for his wife. To-do list clear and all needs met, Mike fell into a peaceful slumber that night.
Happily dating Rachel, but still feels uncertain about their relationship. He can see that she isn't completely invested in their relationship and on his end he isn't being completely honest with her.
Has an almost non-existent relationship with his family. After choosing to attend NYADA, his parents disowned him, leaving him without any means to take care of himself.
Brody currently works as a gigolo in addition to his part-time teaching assistant job. He gets paid well and he doesn't hate it. In fact, he enjoyed it before he started dating Rachel.
Brody tends to be friendly, outgoing, and very confident. Moving to NYC by himself without any assistance from his parents also forced him to become independent quickly. He doesn't share his problems or his deepest and darkest secrets easily. Those are always kept private.
His main aim is to complete his studies at NYADA and make a living as a performer. He had a taste of accomplishing his dream last year with his short stint on Broadway. He continues to audition hopes to return to the stage soon.
Caden was so happy to be in the same building as his brother. He couldn’t believe he’d survived six weeks of separation from Sammy. It was the longest they’d ever been apart and it’d been…an interesting experience. Caden had nearly spent the entire six weeks drinking and partying non-stop. It had gotten so bad he’d almost missed his flight, too hung over to wake up with his alarm. Without his brother there to keep him grounded and rein him in a little bit, Caden had kind of lost control.
And while all of that was going on in London, Sammy had gone off and fallen in love. Go figure. Caden was excited to hear all about that. He walked up to the second floor and down the hall in search of room number 18. When he found it, he debated on knocking. But, Sam had said it was their room. So he twisted the door knob and walked in. He dropped his bag on the floor and walked over to his brother, wrapping him in a tight hug. “Holy fuck have I missed you.”
Robert had a pleasant upbringing. When he was younger, he typically struggled with his schoolwork. Frustration with academics led Bobby to focus and spend more of his time and energy on making friends and having a good time. During high school, he was known to ditch classes here and there to hang out with his friends or audition for gigs with his band. His weekends were usually spent with friends at house parties or bars (thanks to a fake I.D. a friend had gotten him).
Despite his very active social life, Bobby did his best to help around the house and spend time with his family. It felt good to be useful so he didn't mind cooking or cleaning alongside his brother or helping his dad fix things. Sure there were days where he'd pawn his chores off to Sammy with a simple ask. Watching Sam obey made him feel just as good, if not a little better, as doing the work himself would, so Bobby didn't see any issue with it.
The little filled in star on his sixteenth birthday had been a surprise. But looking back, Robert was sure an empty star would have been equally surprising. He didn't feel like either of the roles truly fit him. He definitely didn't enjoy taking orders as much as Sam seemingly did. But he also didn't enjoy giving orders and demands and dishing out punishment as much as some of the Dom upperclassmen seemingly did. More than anything, Bobby simply liked the idea of someone aching to please him, doing his bidding for no other reason that it made him happy and, therefore, them happy.
It wasn't a popular thought though and Bobby was aware that other Doms found him soft and needlessly indulgent to the few subs he'd tried to establish relationships with in high school. So he kept his desires to himself and gave up dating by the end of his senior year. Instead, he spent his nights out meeting subs and hooking up whenever he had an itch to scratch. After moving to NYC with his brother, Bobby also discovered the Safe Haven's Dom for a Day (DFAD) program, which allowed him to volunteer every once in awhile for slightly more intense Domming than a one night stand would allow. Between working at a bar below his flat, hooking up, volunteering at Safe Haven, and of course keeping his eye on bro, Bobby didn't have much time for anyways.
This is going to turn into a thing. Probably an rps blog. But, idk. I'm just gonna mess around with it for a bit. Ignore me or unfollow me if it becomes annoying.
Pretty girls in elegant dresses, partying until dawn. Irresistible boys with mischievous smiles and dangerous intentions. White lies, dark secrets, and scandalous hook-ups.
Beautiful and dirty rich is a phrase that fittingly describes the students of Fenton Academy. Swarovski embellished Louboutin’s, quilted Chanel clutches and Cartier are all these pretty little devils abide by. The fresh faces of Fenton can be found receiving the most sought after invitations and attendances to the most decadent events. It’s a charmed life for the young and well endowed. Or, is it? After all, in a society so built up on reputation, appearances are everything. Is there more to the pretty frocks and strapping suits than they let on? It’s time to find out.
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In Paris, France there is a high school academy that is different from all the rest.
How? Well, St Elenour is neither a private or public school, instead, it’s both. It combines the two types of student every teacher has in their class. The perfect, honor roll students who always raise their hands, and the obnoxious, gum-smacking troublemakers that blurt out inappropriate comments the entire class period. St Elenour accepts both; the best students and the worst.
Some students come from the other side of the world while others have been rejected multiple times. But why is their mission to attend the experimental boarding school? The deal.
The deal is that each of the honor roll students must tutor one of the educationally-challenged teen criminals for the entire year, if so- they get to attend the high-society high school for free. No tuition fees to worry about, getting to put St Elenour on their college application and being able to explore the great country of France. The downside is that they may have to roommate with a delinquent, though not the same student they’re tutoring.
Now, the only way a negligent would attend would be if there was something in it for them as well, and there is. If they DON’T drop out, and get into the honor roll at least once during the school year, they get a clean slate. All of the police records get burned and it would be as if they never stole a penny.
This school is different from all the others. There are no teachers, because all is taught from student to student and/or is self-taught through computer or text book. This school combines geniuses and juveniles, no average teens are allowed to attend here. This is only for the students that truly need it and truly deserve it.
But the A+ veterans aren’t the only teachers, as Principal Elenour hopes that the delinquents will teach them to be less tight-ended. In fact, Principal even stated “The sole purpose of this entire idea of a school is to show how having to socialize with your personality opposite can either benefit you to thinking differently or completely change you.”
Both love a challenge, but will they be able to put aside their differences to receive their rewards?
OPEN SINCE MAY,4TH 2013
WE ACCEPT OCs TOO!
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I just reviewed Black Paper Moon, which is a fantasy RP with a war element. And there's been a Glee RP in the tags set during WWIV...which is weird because there wasn't a WWIII. Oh well, it exists.
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