not a fan.

emma hayashi; 17. junior. melleray. wasn't listening but i strongly disagree.

[emmahayashi]

benmartos·:

“All right, yeah,” Ben nodded. His tongue poked out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes turned momentarily upward as he thought. It was probably the first assignment he’d been excited about in months. “Okay, uh, genre then, next time. Maybe doesn’t have to be genre every time, but like. This time, at least.” He made a clicking sound out of the corner of his mouth; one corner of his mouth pulled into a half-grin. “Not to be totally off brand, but I kinda wanna say pop punk to see what sort of emo depths you’ve got. Solid Warped Tour energy.”

Emma had always seemed like a pretty hardcore pessimist to Ben, so her you might have a chance held a lot more weight than anyone else’s would have. “Sick.” The project might have had the possibility of getting off the ground, but he knew he’d have to catch Sister Michael or Father Doheny on a good day before he suggested it. God knew neither of them were gagging to give point blank permission to anyone. “I’ll hit up one of the Sisters on the rare day they don’t all look murderous as fuuuuck.” He ended the last word on an upswing.

Ben snorted a laugh as he grabbed one end of the kayak then stood. “You really telling me you didn’t dig the macho man thing?” He nodded toward the other end of the boat. “Grab hold then, if the solo show’s not worth shit. Don’t wanna waste my energy if my shtick’s not working.”

■

“Alright, genre.” Emma agreed with a nod of her head. The mention of pop punk had her lips curving upwards at the sides before she could realize and keep them in place. It was safe to say Emma was rightfully entertained by Ben’s choice of genre. “Oh, we’re going old school now are we? Alright. A little blast from the past.” ‘Old school’. As if it were many years ago and not a few years back when she was 14 and angrier than she is now. A person is almost 18 and suddenly 14 seems like another lifetime.

“You’ll be waiting till the Rapture or some shit, dude. The nuns are perpetually murderous-looking. Resting Murder Face was probably a prerequisite to landing a job interview at BA,” Emma joked. Not that she wasn’t supportive of it. Emma was a known practitioner of Resting Bitch Face herself. Resting Murder Face was something she could only wish to achieve. If she admired anything about the nuns, it would be that.

“I don’t know what to tell ya, my tastes are much more refined. I mean, you could keep trying but you wouldn’t be the first. I’ve written off many Jocks in my day. I can add you to the list,” Emma told Ben with a light chuckle and shake of her head. Though, her cheeks were warm for some reason and she didn’t want to think about why. So instead of dwell on thoughts she didn’t want to think, she bent downward and picked up her end of the kayak as per Ben’s request.

[emmahayashi]

benmartos​:

Ben let his head tip back at the reminder, eyes rolling up into his head. They hadn’t even been an hour off the bus and the Gen-Z reality of internet dependence quickly rubbed itself in his face like a heartless taunt. He had never realized how much time he spent watching Anthony Fantano videos or refreshing his Twitter feed until then. Though it was as good an excuse as any to ignore his family’s phone calls, it was still inconvenient as hell. And boring. His sister told him to use the opportunity to like, connect with nature or some shit, but he didn’t really know how to go about that in a place like this. His eyes narrowed as he looked up into the darkening sky and then he shook his head as he righted himself. “Fuckin’ sucks,” he said, with as much feeling as the situation required, a wry twist to his lips by the end. Self-awareness was hard to come by, but it made some things a little funny.

He smiled again when Emma gave him the win. Ben half-expected her to put up a fight, and it was easy to convince himself she would’ve with someone else. No one, including teachers and coaches, seemed like they wanted to give him any sort of leeway these days. “Damn. They’re gonna call you the Patron Saint of Sad Bastards for this one. Your heart probably just grew three sizes, huh?” He nudged her knee back with his own. Though his victory wasn’t entirely credible, Ben still liked winning. “But sure, all right. I get it, you’re cutthroat. I’m looking forward to Round Two.” And that wasn’t really a bad idea, he thought. When it came for accomplishing things he wanted to do, it was pretty much two for two by his count: something future-oriented or whatever for their time here at the retreat, and—Emma was involved, so that was chill. “But for real, we should definitely make this a legit thing. I mean, not much else to do out here, right?” His brow ticked up. “No offense but you don’t really seem like the kumbaya-by-the-campfire type, man. You’re gonna need something to while away the hours.”

The kayak looked more battered as the sun slowly sunk toward the horizon, shadows making the wooden paneling appear skeletal and weak. Ben sucked a breath in through his teeth when he looked over his shoulder, then shrugged. “I dunno…” he trailed off. The initial sucky shock of its damage didn’t fully wear off, but it wasn’t as—defeating, maybe. He didn’t have any tools, but someone must’ve. They probably had some kind of groundskeeper or handyman on staff, right? Ben vaguely remembered a guy coming out to fix his desk chair back in freshman year. He placed a hand on Emma’s knee, gave it a thoughtless squeeze, and then stood to walk over to the kayak. He crouched to get one last look, and grabbed a hold of the lip of the cockpit to maneuver it. “We should probably get it back in the boathouse,” he acknowledged, then reached in to test if the seat was still firmly in place. “But, ah, how likely do you think it is that I can like, convince Sister Michael that fixing these up could be a character-building activity? Pretty sure the disciples were chilling in a boat when Jesus did his walk-on-water shtick. That could work in my favor.”

■

“Much to my dismay,” Emma quipped in return, making sure not to glance downward when she felt Ben’s knee tap her own. “That’s my charity for the year though. Gotta cap it at that.” Wouldn’t want her heart to explode and all that shit. Emma spared a chuckle and shook her head. Patron Saint of Sad Bastards... What a title.

Emma was surprised that Ben wanted to make this impromptu song competition a thing. She didn’t take him for the type to be competitive but she liked it. And he was right: Emma was not a kumbaya-by-the-campfire type. Truth be told, she actually hated that sitting around a campfire would probably become a regular thing while they were out here. As if it wasn’t lame enough already that the Broadripple student population gathered in the chapel once a week to let Father Doheny bore them to death for an hour.

“Alright, let’s do it,” she agreed. A little something extra to keep her mind sharp and her music taste expanding. And dare Emma say it, something to look forward to. “But if this is gonna be a regular thing, we’re going to need some rules. We can’t show up with two drastically different songs every week. We should have a theme. Genre, mood, situation, whatever.” Something that acted as common ground so it could help determine a winner between them both.

Emma blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected touch. She was so glad Ben’s back was to her as he walked toward the kayak so he couldn’t bare witness to this... whatever reaction she had to that. Like she fucking glitched or some shit, it was embarrassing. She shook her head and stood up, following after Ben but making sure she stood on the opposite end of the kayak, arms crossed. She felt vulnerable for some reason and didn’t like it. 

“You might have a chance...” She revealed after giving it some thought, staring down the shabby kayak. “I doubt they have much planned for us out here...” With no cell reception and WIFI, the Broadripple staff was going to have to dig deep to keep the teenagers entertained and Emma was not looking forward to seeing what they would come up with. “I’m gonna bet you they make us clean those piece of shit cabins as a bonding activity, like I’m calling it. It’ll happen.” She shook her head at the thought.

“So should I pick up this end or are you gonna macho man it on your own like when you got it out of the shed?” Emma asked with a tilt of her head, feeling the need to poke fun at Ben for that dumb reaction he got out of her earlier. Not that he saw it but it happened. Emma lived it, and she kind of hated that she did. Being a teenage girl sucked sometimes.

[emmahayashi]

yanabortnik​:

•

Yana wasn’t stupid. She kept a folder filled with every assignment she received a letter grade less than an A on, but she wasn’t dumb. For one, that folder was a tool to drive her toward improving herself and her marks. Sometimes a reminder of failures pushed someone forward to a success. Or it made them stew and spiral a little but that side of the coin was largely irrelevant, since it marred Yana’s theory. But for two, she knew Emma well enough that Yana had definitely been rebuffed, or was in the process of being rebuffed. One-worded replies weren’t out of the norm, but these were strategically placed. They were counter-measures and while Yana didn’t want to take it personally, she couldn’t quite help it.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll find it,” she said, as reassuring as she could. “Out of everything a person could take, what’s the use of a postcard? It doesn’t sound like a you-thing to keep it around if it had anything incriminating written on it. So blackmail’s out.” She scanned the floor for more stray items but it looked like Emma had mostly found and moved most of her things. So Yana reached for a pile that appeared to have been nudged haphazardly against the wall, and pulled out a paperback book. She flipped the pages, hoping the postcard might fall out, but came up with nothing. She was grateful to have a task. Busy hands, busy mind.

“It’s a beaded bracelet made with Honey Tiger’s Eye. Yellow and brown, a sort of a golden-y color. It’s supposed to bring brightness and optimism,” Yana continued, in a tone that conveyed I know you probably think that’s bullshit. She mostly thought it was bullshit too. “And insight into your problems. So if you start to suddenly feel introspective, happy, or enlightened, then you might be close. Stay emotionally present, please.” At Emma’s next words, Yana snorted a laugh—a sudden, unflattering sound.

“Thank you for the reminder not to get on your bad side,” she said lightly, then moved to toss the paperback into the school stuff pile. Right before she let go, she stopped herself. The book could’ve been for leisure reading but as someone who avoided reading most things that she hadn’t been assigned, the thought hadn’t initially occurred to Yana. Her bookcases were filled with textbooks and almost all of Brené Brown’s published works. Novels weren’t really in her wheelhouse. “My gut tells me you’d know how to hide all the evidence.” She held up the book and tapped her fingers against the cover, finding a little passing pleasure in the sound. “Do you read any crime novels? Like… who’s that lady that wrote the Orient Express book? Willem Dafoe was in the movie? Bet she could give you some ideas.”

■

Sometimes it freaked Emma out how observant Yana was towards her habits and just... the way she was. Then again, that was the risk you put yourself in when you spent time with people. It’s unavoidable that they start to notice things about you, to slowly understand you even if it wasn’t their intention. “Yeah, weird...” Thinking of things in that way made Emma’s face pull into a frown. Why the postcard? Of all things. Blackmail’s out, so... what? Monetary value? Why not one of her rings or necklaces? Granted, they weren’t expensive but they were sure as hell worth a lot more than a stupid postcard. It’s like this whoever did this knew what would bum Emma out the most. She hated that.

“Honey Tiger’s Eye...” Once Yana described its color, Emma could imagine it. Not that she was someone who knew a lot about beaded bracelets or even sought them out, but she’s seen enough in passing at these super boho stores her friend used to drag her to back home to know it when she sees it. Emma spared a glance –  a judgy one – in Yana’s direction when she went on to explain the bracelet’s purpose. She was glad for the change of tone, otherwise the judgy glance would have been even judgier. “Riiight. Not feelings I’m familiar with, so if I feel like I’m about to throw up or pass out, I’ll let you know.”

Emma wasn’t sure if she should be offended or proud that Yana thought that of her. After a moment to consider it, she was leaning more toward the latter to be honest. “Agatha Christie?” She guessed aloud, stretching out to drop her worksheet on her bed. “At least I think so. Murder on the Orient Express...” She took a second or two to think. “Yeah, that’s Agatha Christie.” At least from what she could recall. “I mean, sometimes. Wouldn’t say it’s something I go for. I’ve read like, one book of hers. ABC Murders. And I wouldn’t say it made me shit my pants.” Not the most eloquent way of saying you weren’t impressed. 

“I’m more of a Murakami chick,” Emma explained instead. “It’s not crime, mostly fiction. Postmodern, realism, that type of shit. I’m making my way through his stuff. I actually have a couple of books with me right now.” She walked up to her bunk and started to rifle through her pile of belongings. Hidden beneath a shirt, she found what she was looking for. “Here.” She held out her copy of Norwegian Wood toward Yana. “Try it out if you want. I finished it last year.” On the ski trip. It was awesome. Reading all day while everyone was out trying to kill themselves on the slopes or having snowball fights.

[emmahayashi]

orioncarlson​:

☆

𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍’𝐓 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 about Emma’s dogged apathy. It’s more of the same thing for him, the not caring; even going as far as liking it, as much as could. Anonymity is important to him, yet the way she frames it makes it sounds like he’s unmemorable — and that? That’s something entirely different. And yet, he’s distinctly aware of how getting upset at her in the middle of debate wouldn’t solve anything, so he turns, huffing to himself, wondering how he’d gotten stuck with such a disagreeable partner.

“Christ, I can’t even have a thought to myself?” He replies, lightly groaning. Rion can’t help it, it’s covert insult after insult with her. “So let me get this straight: you’re just rude to everyone, regardless of what they’ve done to you?” And though he isn’t the friendliest guy in their year, he’s decent enough to everybody else, albeit a tad cold. And yet, he is never this blatantly snippy, unless the other gives him a reason to be. “Glad you take such a sick pleasure in being a bitch.”

"If it was a thought to yourself, did you have to say it out loud?” Emma bit back immaturely. Though, ‘out loud’ was pushing it. She was sure only animals with a heightened sense of hearing could pick up that sorry excuse for a grumble Rion made. She sighed, setting her brief down because it was clear she and her debate partner were about to get into something that demanded more than just her partial attention. “I wouldn’t call it rude,” Emma answered once she had twisted her body more fully to face Rion. “I’m just being honest. I’ve found a lot of people can’t take it though. Too attached to their societal niceties.” I.E. Rion, though she hoped she wouldn’t have to clarify that because it would ruin the vibe. “Oh, I wouldn’t say sick pleasure but regular pleasure, yeah sure,” Emma responded with a nod, knowing she was making this worse by continuing to be supremely annoying and antagonistic for no good reason right now. Then again, he called her a bitch so why shouldn’t she rile him up? Maybe if Rion was heated enough, he’d actually speak at an acceptable human volume when he went up there. Their turn was soon too.

[emmahayashi]

chvrryripe​:

✟

There’s a sharp nature to the blonde that allows the shadows of the campfire to flicker across his face, and stretch his body out long behind him. Like something distorted, a mirror of the creature he knew settles at the bottom of the devouring ravine inside him. He tries to mirror the wolves he’s seen, their talons bared, and teeth glistening as a threat when they’re bared into a smile. Some days he’d even believe it to be true, he could be something disastrous. “I like to think myself more a sphinx,” it was something Liluye had told him the other day. Half truths riddled from his tongue, a creature that would devour. It was an image he liked, but he supposed a forrest fae was almost as good.

“I believe you’re my first,” His palms settle back into the dirt as he leans against them. “Morbid curiosity and all, although I’d like to see you try. Can’t help but think a scared face might flatter my features. Wouldn’t you say?”

■

God, Amos was fucking weird. A sphinx? Then again wasn’t he a theater kid? Those kids were always pretty fucked up in the head weren’t they? All suffering from some sort of narcissistic damage, delusions of grandiosity. “Lucky me,” Emma drawled tiredly, a roll of her eyes. Why was she still sitting here again? She’s walked away from people she’s found particularly annoying before. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to walk away because someone at this school talked too much. “Personally, I’m for anything that melts your mouth shut. So if a scarred face is somehow inclusive of that, I think you’ll look great.” She gave a mocking smile and thumbs up before shaking her head.

[emmahayashi]

liluyes​:

✦

ish. that made liluye feel better. they worried they had just completely managed to miss this person before they went on exchange. it didn’t seem likely as whoever this was seemed similar to liluye. or at least someone that they could happily sit beside in almost silence over lunch. something they would certainly remember if they had to deal with a crowded cafeteria in the coming days. “ true, ” they allowed with small smile and quick nod. if nothing else, broadripple was a good school academically speaking. everything else, including current living situation, was sort of shit. they were completely intrigued by this person, maybe just because they were new-ish, or maybe because they didn’t have the same air of privileged pretentiousness that so many other classmates had. a light chuckle escaped them when she asked if they were from florida. “ no, um– there’s a coach down there, connections to colleges, that sort of thing, ” they explained, hoping emma didn’t put the pieces together that they needed those connections. in a small attempt to distract from that they added “ i’m from arizona. less swamp, more desert, but still a lot of weirdo tourists and old people. ”  though at least the weirdo tourists in arizona were hippies rather than disney adults. “ are you from portland? ”

■  

Connections. Another track kid chasing their future. Emma nodded at the new information and didn’t care to press any further than that. “Arizona... hot as balls. Not that it doesn’t get pretty bad here sometimes.” Emma still recalled that day the school handed out free popsicles to students as a way to beat the heat a while ago. She also remembered that dumb playlist she made Ben as a sort of inside joke about the muggy weather. “Yeah, I’m from Portland. Chasing a momento from back home I guess...” She wished she didn’t care so much about it. It was a stupid piece of thick paper. Emma hated that she couldn’t just forget about it. “Are you missing anything?” She asked then, not wanting to dwell on that dumb postcard any longer. The sooner she could get herself to accept that it was gone, the better. “Not a postcard from Arizona, right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, obviously joking. Though it would be pretty hilarious in a twisted kind of way if they were both tragically missing a postcard from their respective hometowns.

[emmahayashi]

benmartos​:

•

Emma was definitely right when she used the word ‘chill’. Ben’s head bobbed again as he listened. He liked the vocal layering on the chorus; that sort of the thing was one of his weaknesses. And stylistically it reminded him a little of Mild High Club, or maybe Gus Dapperton, and was better produced than most lo-fi sounding songs Spotify’s hit-or-miss algorithm kept pumping into his playlists. You make me feel so innocent / Even if I wasn’t right. His mind unexpectedly drifted to moments earlier when he was insistent and obvious and he wanted to outwardly cringe, like maybe the expression itself would lessen the unwanted feeling. Ben didn’t know Emma that well, but he really liked her. She was kind of standoffish, and blunt, and she had good taste in music. He had to wonder what was with him and girls most likely to bite his head off if he made a wrong move. His eyes drifted to the creek as the song transitioned into the next verse but they cut back to her halfway through. He shot her a slight grin, his eyebrows raised to say not bad, not bad, and reminded himself again that he didn’t want to make any wrong moves.

Eventually the song petered out and the corners of Ben’s mouth pulled down into a guise of consideration. “That was good,” he said after a split second. “Pretty cool and laidback beat. The drumming reminded me a lot of Toro y Moi. You know, like that hi-hat beat? Totally chillwave-influenced, but not super retro.” He nodded as he took out the Pod, then passed it back over to her. The lyrics stuck with him too but the thought of digging into them surfaced the same, similar discomfort from before. Plus, analyzing too many words in one day felt uncomfortably close to English class. “Yeah, I liked that. Probably gonna add that to my Chill Out playlist next time I’m on campus. You should text me the name so I don’t forget.” It was really different from the Medhane track, so it felt almost impossible to pit the two against one another. Whichever one a person might want to call better than the other hinged on personal taste. “We’ve got a tight competition here. You don’t happen to feel like throwing me a bone, do you? I need a win after all that.” He jerked his head back toward the dilapidated kayak. He’d probably sulk a little more over that whole deal when he was on his own again, but the music and company helped to put that inevitability off.

■

Emma hated that she felt a swell of satisfaction at the sight of Ben’s approval of the song. Like fuck getting someone’s approval on something, but she couldn’t help but feel a slight pride and something else she couldn’t quite name when she saw Ben’s partial grin and raised brows. It resulted in a bit of a smile of her own as she enjoyed the rest of the tune and looked at the creek because for some dumb reason she felt like looking at Ben meant he was winning more. Winning at what? She wasn’t quite sure. Maybe he wasn’t winning but she sure as shit felt like she was losing for some goddamn reason and she didn’t like that.

Emma also didn’t like how much she enjoyed listening to Ben’s thoughts on music. As she took the Pod from him to return to its case along with the one she was wearing, she decided it was merely because she appreciated the opinion of someone who appreciated music, not Ben specifically. It wasn’t her fault he was the only one with decent music taste for miles. 

“Probably just gonna have to write it on a Post-It,” she told him in response. “You know we don’t get signal out here? It’s fucking barbaric.” No WIFI and no signal? Not that she had anyone to text so regularly but Emma would at least like the option of knowing she could send one while out here.

Tight competition was right. Both songs were good. Without a doubt. The reality was that the final call would be affected by personal preference and that wasn’t exactly impartial. Emma’s eyes followed Ben’s movement, taking in that sorry excuse of a kayak again. Christ, was she really about to do this? “Playing the sad boi card, huh?” She just had to tease him first. “Fine,” she caved nonetheless. “But just this once,” she warned, playfully but still a warning. “Next time, if I kick your ass, I kick your ass.” She nudged the side of Ben’s knee with her own before turning her attention away to tuck her AirPods case back into her jacket pocket.

“You just gonna leave that thing there by the way?” She asked when her attention flitted back up to Ben’s face again. “Or should we drag it back?”

[emmahayashi]

yanabortnik​:

•

A potential reputation for asking complicated questions didn’t disappoint Yana, though it would definitely make it harder to get the complicated answers she aimed for when they were personal. She merely smiled for a moment—reassuring, friendly, supportive—and nodded along as Emma spoke. Active listening was key, even for people who didn’t know they wanted to be heard. Besides, she did want to hear what Emma had to say. And what she said made sense. Yana thought briefly of Marquette and the house she grew up in: small, picturesque, and lonely. She missed Michigan in the way someone might miss childhood, as the two things were obviously intertwined, but she always assumed that feeling would have followed her no matter where her parents might’ve ended up. She didn’t really miss the state, but she did miss certain moments there. It was only a little complicated.

“I think I get it,” she said with a final nod, then dropped the mascara on the middle of Emma’s bed. Makeup pile. Her eyes scanned the floor, and she snatched up a notebook left open and a little beat up. From a quick glance at the notes inside, it looked like it was for Emma’s English class. Yana straightened a couple bent pages, then closed it. “It’s definitely nice to get away from home and family and stuff, but—” But… it’s familiar? Comfortable? Memory-laden, for sure. “It’s still home. Like my dad totally rags on me whenever I first get back around Christmas or Thanksgiving. It’s basically a shitty stand up routine. He has all his classic zingers.” She rolled her eyes at that. It was practically the only real form of communication she and her dad had ever managed to have. He pokes fun at her, she has no choice but to laugh it off, and he never asks the names of her teachers or her friends or what classes she’s taking. She couldn’t be mad if it’s never been any different. “I don’t love it, but I miss it sometimes.” She placed the notebook by Emma’s pillows—school stuff pile—then laughed a little, quiet and short. “But maybe that’s just because I’ve developed a Pavlovian response since it comes hand-in-hand with a giant meal or presents. Who knows?”

Yana placed her hands on her hips and sighed. One missing item was annoying, two was a possible pattern. If Cath was missing anything, Yana hadn’t stuck around to find out. “It’s the Case of the Missing Postcard and Bracelet, it looks like.” The bracelet itself didn’t have much meaning beyond what the employee at The Gathered Earth told her it held: insight, confidence, and balance. She wore it when she felt confused, primarily about her own self, and she couldn’t cite any direct results it yielded but it had always been a comfort anyway. And truth be told she was mostly peeved because it had been an impulsive purchase, which led her to continue with: “That’s fifteen bucks I’ll never get back now.” Her nose wrinkled up. “If this is some elaborate senior prank, then don’t you think they should be messing with the staff instead? That’s basically the whole point of those things.”

■

“Yeah,” was all Emma could think to say in response to Yana, trying to pass off her short reply as simply being too distracted with scanning the floor at the moment. Kind of a dick move to be so succinct when the other Junior made an effort to connect and shit but she was already feeling weird about the topic of home and all of the weird sentiment and complications that came with it. Plus, dads were a touchy topic for her. Like, awesome. Yana has a cool lame relationship with her dad. Whatever. “I guess,” Emma replied with a sigh, offering another disappointing one word response. Again, she really wasn’t trying to be the world’s worst conversationalist here but home and family just weren’t the greatest things to talk about with her. There hasn’t been a single holiday she’s returned for that she’s enjoyed since starting at Broadripple. It’s always awkward and tense, and Emma had the habit of retreating to her room once she’s had a bit to eat. And if not her room, then just walking over to her best friend’s house to spend it with his family – who felt more familiar to her than her own as of late.

Bracelet. That was something she could focus on. “What does it look like?” Emma asked, making an effort to contribute to the conversation since she’s been pretty shitty about it till now. “I’ll keep an eye out for it. I mean, there’s shit all over the place. Wouldn’t surprise me if we found it like two steps from the outhouse or something.” And Emma hoped she wouldn’t find it there. The Melleray junior briefly wondered how attached Yana was to this bracelet. Because she wouldn’t want to keep anything that’s been within five feet of that outhouse.

“If this is a senior prank, someone’s getting a foot up their ass,” Emma muttered in annoyance, finding a pair of black pants on the floor that she knows is hers. She snatched it up and chucked it on the bed, blowing out a frustrated huff afterwards. Then she sighed, hands on her hips as she tilted her head back to stare at that ceiling she swore was due to collapse any day now. “I swear... This school manages to find a way to get worse every year. It’s such ass that graduating from here gives you all of the opportunities it does.” It was the only reason to stick around and tough it out. “One more year,” Emma reminded herself with a nod, meeting Yana’s gaze again. “That is if it doesn’t burn down first.” She bent down to scoop a worksheet with her name on it up.

[emmahayashi]

 orioncarlson​:

☆

𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐄 that gets to him, only because it’s too true. Hell, Rion had never been too good at accepting the truth for what it was, especially as it came out from another person’s mouth. Rolling his eyes, he diverts his attention from the brief completely, throwing Emma a displeased look. “Right, and are you always this much of an asshole to everyone you know?” Only because he can’t imagine she’d be a pleasant person to hang around. “Or do you have something against me?” Sighing, he refocuses back on the brief, pulling out a notebook, half-glad that he’d managed to hold onto his pen for the day, lest she’d have something to say about that. “I just don’t like public speaking,” he grumbles, only a notch above a whisper.  

■

“Yeah, I believe in equity,” Emma responded flatly, making it difficult to discern whether she was being serious or whether it was her typical dry humor. The displeased look Rion shot her didn’t have its intended effect, the Melleray junior entirely unbothered, features unchanged. A lot of people thought her honesty was mean. Crass. Rude. Whatever. But Emma didn’t really care. She believed in authenticity. It wasn’t her problem if other people didn’t. “I can’t stress how little I think about you,” she told Rion after his question. See? Honest. May not have been the nicest, but at least there was no room for misinterpretation if Rion ever wondered how she felt about him. 

Emma turned back to her own brief when Rion did, taking it as a sign that the interaction was over, but then he mumbled something under his breath. Slight frown, the junior turned her head to the side and addressed him with a sigh. “You know, if you want people to hear what you have to say, you have to speak louder.” She didn’t mean to be patronizing but shit, she didn’t have the ears of a bat. “I’d ask you to repeat it for the class but we’ve since learned you suck at addressing a room, so just loud enough for me to hear would be good.”

[emmahayashi]

liluyes​:

with sturdy arms liluye held the bag open for her. unable to help from watching her movements, they kind of hoped that she would pull something from what they had gathered so far. in a way it was sort of an intimate thing, to become so well acquainted with everyone else’s belongings. but alas, she stepped back empty handed. the only information liluye had was that they were missing a postcard from portland. they pressed their lips together. “ gunderson, pink hair, ” they repeated back, committing it to memory. “ i’ll see if i can track them down– thanks. ” though they wondered how long this gunderson person would have pink hair, felt a little against the rules. but then again, liluye didn’t know anyone else who had tried before.

at emma’s question however they raised a brow “ it’s a whole lot easier to look for your stuff in a bag than it is to search all over camp, not even knowing what you’re looking for, right? ” they countered, bringing back the argument that not everyone knew exactly what they owned unless they were looking right at it. plus, they didn’t really want to hear a whole bunch of screaming about favourite shirts and jeans being ruined by the overnight weather first thing in the morning. “ not really, ” they answered her next question. it wasn’t exactly a welcome but welcome back for liluye, though they would have preferred it without the whole retreat thing quickly followed by this mess. “ i was in florida for a year, for track– but it is still a shitty welcome back gift. ” they meant for it to be a joke but it toed the line of being too true and they were no comedian. “ are you new? ish, at least? ”

■

“Fair enough,” Emma conceded. It was in that moment that she decided she might not hate this person. Whoever they were. And that was someone who apparently wasn’t new at all; a discovery that intrigued Emma, evident in the way her head tilted to the right slightly as she listened on. “Ish,” Emma repeated once asked. “Been here about a year,” she elaborated. “It’s a mixed bag,” given she wasn’t particularly keen about some of the people here, not to mention the shitty circumstance they were in having to sleep in derelict cabins like a bunch of second-rates, “but at least the education you get isn’t shit.” It was arguably Broadripple’s most redeemable quality. No one could deny that the opportunities you could get at this school were pretty choice. She’d shit-talk the academy till her very end but she couldn’t say their curriculum sucked. “Why Florida for track? You from there or something?”

[emmahayashi]

benmartos:

Smooth, she repeated. He grinned as he took back the earbud. “Right? One big fuckin’ exhale, dude. The whole album gets pretty heavy, and this song’s near the end so… I dunno. There’s a kinda balance there. You should definitely check out the rest. ‘Late’ has got some cool warped samples I think you’d be into.”

He had more words for the track, about the way Medhane combined the present and the past into a flow of foggy, seemingly unconnected memories—about the way it felt like it lightened whatever load was on the guy’s back. Something-something about hurdles and overcoming them or whatever. But the thought of actually saying any of that fell just beyond his comfort zone. It brewed the same kind of discomfort that surfaced at the thought of like, the time Gwen tried to sit him down in the equipment room and get him to talk about some meaningless, feelings-adjacent shit.

He tucked his phone and headphones into his pocket, without too much thought about the very likely possibility that he was bound to knot them up all over again. He took the Pod Emma proffered with a nod, tucking it into his ear. It was probably about time he folded and get a pair of his own, but he was stupidly attached the tangled inconvenience of earbuds. “Hit me,” he answered. “I can trust it’s not gonna be Hot In Herre, yeah?”

■

“Nah, I only save Hot in Herre for when I really want to impress people. This is just the everyday stuff you’re getting,” she replied jokingly, a fond half-roll of her eyes as she tapped into her current playlist — which was essentially a collection of latest releases from various artists — and tried to decide on a song. She didn’t know why she was overthinking it. She liked every song on the playlist; it’s how a track makes its way into it after all. But they were all just so different. She knew Ben had impressive enough taste but she wasn’t aware of how varied it was. It would suck if she picked something that didn’t land. Not that music was a competition but they were competing to see who had the better stuff right now.

“Okay, this one’s by Teenage Priest. It came out like a month or two ago.” She decided on the second track from the collection of songs, entitled ‘Innocent’. “It’s like super chill in an indie electro pop kind of way.” She pressed ‘play’ and let the music do its thing, allowing the steady beat she’s listened to way too much since its release to take her attention so she didn’t have to concern herself with Ben’s reaction to it.

[emmahayashi]

chvrryripe​:

“You know your words will come back to haunt you one day,” Even he didn’t believe it to be true himself, these stories he span in the ambient light of night. Crickets calling in the trees, filling the night air with the reminder of Summer as they wait far from civilisation. He almost wished it was though, something interesting to stir up chaos amongst the students. “I just try to warn you of the dangers this place holds.”

A smile turned to a laugh at Emma’s words, and he’d wonder if she always took herself too seriously. “If you want to watch, you just have to ask, Emma. Seen a face ‘bout as pale as yours at the window as well, or is that just the baby powder you use? Feel free to just tap, we’ll let you in.”

■

"What are you, like a forest elf? Warn me of the dangers this place holds?” Emma repeated loosely, hoping Amos would hear just how weird it sounded. She rolled her eyes. Christ, the people at this school no knew bounds when it came to their oddities. You’d think it was a prerequisite when applying to this school that you had to be weird as shit.

Oh, she hated that. When people twisted things around to make her seem more interested than she actually was. It pulled annoyance out of Emma like no other. “Has anyone ever told you they wanted to push your face into a bonfire?” A beat. “Because I want to push your face into a bonfire.”

[emmahayashi]

yanabortnik​:

Though her privacy had been flagrantly violated, Yana couldn’t swallow down the little pebble of vindication when they walked into the mess that awaited all of them. She knew it! She knew that this entire setup came with more potential issues than the school and its staff could prepare for. Cabins out in the middle of the woods? Minimal security? Rampant teenage roguery? It was a disaster waiting to happen. But she bit her tongue as she cleaned up her cabin floor, side-eyeing Cath—who simply sat around, looking like she waiting for some magical cleaning gnomes to do the work for her—and carefully folded up her clothes. She hated that someone touched her stuff. When she righted her bedside photo of herself and Misha, an uncomfortable churning took hold in her stomach. She hated someone getting their hands on her life. She didn’t bring much into the cabin but what she did bring was hers, and a certain honey-colored Tiger Eye bracelet was missing.

Once her side of the room was relatively straightened out, she went to see how the other rooms in the Junior cabin were faring. “You’re missing something, too?” She scoffed in disbelief, her hands coming up in an of course gesture. Not only was there destruction of property, but theft as well—and a mass theft, at that. Did everyone lose something? “God, they can’t even guarantee our things will be safe. This is ridiculous.” She glanced around Emma’s room. There were more people staying in it, so the mess was… well, it was a lot worse than the one that awaited them back in hers. “Sorry, I haven’t seen it,” she finally answered, realizing she probably should’ve said so before she fully delved into her complaints. “Maybe we can re-sort all of your stuff into piles, so you can really take stock of everything. It’s what I did.” And she still didn’t find her bracelet. “Clothes, jewelry, textbooks, loose papers and stuff…” She plucked up a black tank, and placed it near the foot of Emma’s bed. “Clothes pile?”

A tube of mascara lay discarded halfway under the bed and Yana grabbed for it next. For as long as she knew Emma, the other girl never gave off a huge sense of sentimentality, but this postcard obviously meant something if she was so determined to find it. She wasn’t a time-waster. Yana had always liked that about her. She straightened and tapped the mascara against her open palm as she spoke. “So a postcard from Portland. Does that help or exacerbate any sense of homesickness?” 

■

Yana Bortnik. A lot in her own right but still the most tolerable of the Juniors in Emma’s opinion. She worked hard, had a plan for... usually everything, and always delivered whenever you were paired with her. Emma had no complaints. If she had to call anyone a friend, it would pain Emma the least to mention Yana’s name. (Yes, even with the knowledge of those light blue Crocs the girl wore around.)

“Tell me about it,” Emma huffed in response, hoping if she kept scanning the floor of room she’d somehow find the postcard peeking out from beneath a bunk or a piece of clothing or something. The Melleray junior only nodded when Yana informed her that she hadn’t seen of such a thing, almost expecting the disappointing answer. No one else she’d asked had seen it.

The idea was a good one. Emma was mostly chucking things onto her bed when she’d come across something that was hers. It was a fucking mess but she knew exactly what was in said mess, every single item in the chaos mound of belongings atop her bed. “Not a bad idea.” Another reason why Emma was partial to Yana: she was painfully organized. It was something Emma learned to appreciate and not be intimidated by once she got to know the other junior better. “Clothes pile,” Emma only repeated, giving a single nod of her head. She didn’t really have the energy to refuse help at the moment.

"Leave it to you to ask the most complicated question...” Emma muttered, her words followed be a slight sigh. For once, she didn’t mean to be an ass with her words. In fact, she’d actually meant them fondly. In Emma’s experience, Yana had the tendency to ask questions she didn’t think about. It’s what made them good partners. But this question, Emma wasn’t entirely keen on answering. Mostly because she didn’t know. “I don’t know,” she admitted as such. “Portland’s a mixed bag for me.” That much was true. “It’s not like I look at it before I sleep and pet the thing for comfort, but I like having it around.” It reminded her that there were people in Portland that she didn’t hate. And that even if she didn’t like being at home, Portland was still home. It was whatever – complicated. She didn’t like thinking about it.

“Did you lose anything or..?” Divert the attention. Classic move from Emma when she got uncomfortable. “I’m guessing you’re here because you’re done finding your own shit.”

[emmahayashi]

cathhart​:

              “ oh, my bad. ”    her lips pull downward,    A GRIMACE  .     but to be fair,   she thought,   it was from portland.       “  i mean i’m from rockport but i can still admit a postcard from there would be shit.  ”   argumentative in her natural habitat,  she highly doubted now was the best time to debate with someone on why admitting your state was weird or boring as shit could actually be beneficial.    awareness   ,   she’d call it.     “  i can look around for it with you.  shit’s a mess it’ll probably be hard to find it by yourself .    ”    a pause ,  scanning their surroundings.    “  i can finally put all of the nancy drew skills i grabbed from reading one book to work. ”

Her bad indeed. “Yeah, I’m not saying it’s greatest thing I’ve ever received but it’s like,” Emma stopped herself, not wanting to get sappy over it. “It has some important information so.” That justified wanting to find something, right? It was way better than saying it was the first thing her idiot best friend successfully sent to her. That would just be admitting she cared about something and she didn’t want to fucking do that. 

The offer was unexpected, making Emma’s forehead crease as she looked at the girl and tried to decide the sincerity of her generosity. After a moment, she concluded that she didn’t have many options and more eyes looking out for something meant a higher chance of finding it. “Knock yourself out,” Emma told the other girl as she started inspecting the floor around them. “Whoa, one book? Watch out. You charge for your services?” She asked dryly as she lifted a shirt to see her postcard was under it.

[emmahayashi]

chvrryripe​:

Shadows flicker cast from the campfire, dancing across their faces- he’d watch them distort Emma’s face. Hallowing out cheeks, sinking her into the dark as the fire promises a welcome beckoning into those shadows that they sink into. Amos would come alive in this dim light, crawling across his face, his teeth white and whole as the moon that peered behind clouds. Something belonging to the night. 

“You say that like this is a joke,” His words careful, slowly finding their way into the world as his eyes meet hers. “Haven’t you heard the things other students find in the forest? Faces watching them from behind trees, figures hidden in the dark, tapping on their windows. Warning.”

"Because it is,” Emma retorted dryly, Amos’s words failing to capture her interest a second time. This whole retreat was a joke. She was pretty sure the school was violating some serious health codes shoveling their students into these cabins. “Used condoms and empty beer cans? Yeah, I’ve heard.” Emma rolled her eyes. Actually, she didn’t hear anything. Emma made it a point to block out most of what anyone at this school said. It was usually exhausting and mind-numbing to listen to because most of it didn’t make any sense. “People in school have a voyeurism kink and like sneaking out, that’s their problem not mine. And that tapping is Kat probably try to sneak in after doing some dumb shit. You’ll think it’s a ghost when you see it, but honestly she’s just that pale.” Emma wouldn’t be surprised to learn that Kat shot out of her mother’s fanny and straight into a vat of bleach on the day she was born. “You know, Breevort, you should probably stop listening to all this heresay. It’s making you kooky.” Not that Emma didn’t already find Amos weird as fuck. But then again, Emma found everyone at Broadripple weird.

[emmahayashi]

orioncarlson​:

𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇, only because he isn’t usually late, and somehow, her acting so nonchalant about it made it worse. He’d only been trying to score some weed after he’d ran out, and he didn’t have enough time to stash it underneath his mattress before returning back to campus. “Jeez, all right, I won’t be late tomorrow,” he replies, sighing, hand burying into his pocket to ensure his ziploc baggie was still safe in his pocket. No use in arguing, considering it’s clear that she hasn’t taken notice of his arrival ( on time ) for past meetings. But it’s only a beat later that it dawns on him that it isn’t her admonishment of his lateness that bothers him, but rather the insinuation that he’d embarrass himself presenting that does. Leaning in again, he narrows his eyes, eyes flickering between serious and annoyed. “What do you mean embarrassing ourselves completely?” Everyone knew Rion was the weakest public speaker in the club, especially after he’d butchered the last debate he’d been in. He didn’t have a problem speaking to anyone one on one, but in front of the class… there’d been too many eyes.

“You were around for your last debate, right?” Rhetorical but she was going somewhere with this. “Or do you just black out when you get up there? Would explain why you suck.” Emma didn’t think she was being mean, she was just stating facts. Rion was a big boy. He didn’t need her to protect his feelings. It wasn’t like people joined Speech & Debate to make friends anyway. They came here to learn how to present arguments in a manner that was articulate, substantial, and void of emotion. Feelings had no place in whatever it was they were doing. You had to take emotion out of it, otherwise you’d just lose the point and the whole thing became less fun. It wasn’t a challenge debating someone who was clearly just offended.

[emmahayashi]

arloiporter​:

He was somewhat more calm now, but somewhat didn’t mean he wasn’t still frantically looking for his sunglasses. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it did, after all it wasn’t like he didn’t have three more pairs from where that one came from, but he was extremly particular about his clothes and even more so about accessories. If he had to stay up all night in order to find them, then so be it. “What do you know? It speaks!” He exclaimed eyeing her up and down. He wasn’t certain he had ever heard her speak before, and if he had he probably wasn’t paying enough attention to notice her. “Uh, no. But I’ll be on the look out for… what am I looking for? A black postcard? With some skulls on it, perhaps? Cobweb?”

Oh great, an annoying fuckwad. The last thing Emma needed right now. She didn’t know Arlo personally but she knew of him. It was impossible not to catch wind of Broadripple’s Pretty Boy. She rolled her eyes at his words, not having the energy to react to being referred to as an ‘it’ before she sighed. “Yeah, with tombstones and shit on it too.” She played along. Then after beat. “No.” She finally corrected, dropping the gag. “It just says Portland. Oregon beneath it. You can see some mountains and like, the Willamette river on it.” Huffing, she crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at the senior. She felt herself getting increasingly annoyed just from being around him. There was a reason Emma avoided people who thought their selfies were a gift from God. Too unbearable.