boys don't cry @jocelyn-conway - Tumblr Blog

lucygson:

Lucy’s eyes lit up, glad that it was that easy. She liked people who could appreciate a good old fashioned adventure. She doubted it would turn into anything, but she would rather walk into the dark woods than lie there alone with her thoughts. She bowed down dramatically and held out her hand to help Joss out of her bed. “M'lady,” she offered with a coy little smile playing on her lips.

It hadn’t occurred to her to go armed and she didn’t fancy running back to her dorm to grab a paint brush to wield. “Actually, sounds like you’ll be my protector. But I don’t mind bugs so I have one strength.” She left her hand out as an offering anyway.

She was pretty sure that if anybody else at school had uttered the phrase ‘m’lady’ anywhere near her, she’d have broken out in hives but coming from Lucy, it was oddly charming in an ironic sort of a way. Or maybe Lucy was just charming and anything she said sounded cool. Whatever, Joss hardly had time to dwell on the details when there was potentially some kind of night-stalking creature lurking outside their bedroom windows.

“You mean you’re the brains and I’m the brawn?” she suggested, raising an eyebrow as a light chuckle left her lips. She spent a lot of time in the gym sure but her weighted exercises were more about ball control and stamina rather than beating a monster to death in the woods. Still, she wasn’t adverse to the idea of being somebody’s knight in shining armor. She spent a lot of time around boys double her size, it was kind of cool to be the tough guy for once.

As she stepped out into the open space outside the senior cabin, she felt the muscles in her back tighten slightly. What was that? A rustle? Footsteps? Did she hear somebody talking? No, no, it was just the adrenaline in her veins playing tricks on her mind but then- “I heard something,” she confessed, “In the tree?” it had started out as a statement but had ended up as a question as she struggled to determine what she had actually heard and what she had imagined. “Was it-” she looked in one direction and then another, her grip tightening on her hockey stick as she failed to figure out which direction the sound, real or imaginary had actually come from.

#lucy g.

lucygson:

Lucy hadn’t slept at all, at first she dismissed the noise. The wind made all sorts of noises, and in the general gloominess of the woodland it was easy for her imagination to make things up. But other people noticed too, and it was the others stirring that made her sit up. She sat on the edge of the bed, pressing her bare feet into the wooden floor as she listened out for something else. Curiosity got the best of her and she went to put on some shoes, quietly just in case the others were asleep. That seemed impossible, however, since she wasn’t the only one that had decided to go and check the noise out.

She didn’t want to explore alone, so she looked around at her cabin mates and noticed that some were either missing or still in their beds. None of them seemed sturdy enough to accompany her out. She crept through to the other room and found Jocelyn — the was a fighter. If there was an axe murderer or an angry grizzly bear she trusted that Joss could help out. She crept up behind her, leaning against the side of the bed.

Hi seemed a bit lame given the circumstances, she was glad when Joss spoke first. “I think she would investigate,” she said matter-of-factly, her voice was a too-loud whisper.

Joss had discovered on more than one occasion now that Lucy’s confidence was contagious. Her candour and spine hung in the air around her whenever she spoke and Jocelyn could have sworn that she could almost feel herself absorbing it by osmosis whenever she was around the other girl. “Somebody has to,” she noted, in agreement with Lucy, “-and I think you’re right,” she added to clarify as much. She didn’t think it would be like Megan Rapinoe to stand down, even against ghosts or intruders or opossums or whatever the heck was making life at the Retreat particularly difficult on this occasion.

“I’ve got my hockey stick,” she assured the other girl, hopping up from her position and arming herself with her field hockey stick, though she hoped it wasn’t going to come in handy any time soon. “-and I’m not afraid of spiders,” she added, as if that was one of her more powerful traits in the given circumstances.

#lucy g.

orioncarlson:

☆

𝐌𝐀𝐘𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐊 his sarcastic quip seriously, but he lets out an amused snort, shaking his head. “Right, make your own luck — so basically, do a good job and don’t rely on a random occurrence for success to happen?” Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans into the door frame. “You know what, you’re probably right; God is definitely trying to tell us something here.” Sarcasm personified, his smugness is unbridled today without his usual fix of nicotine.

“Yeah, guess so.” Rion doesn’t really want company for his walk over, but she seems to know where the matches would be. It’s only an added bonus that none of the teachers or Sisters would suspect a thing if he’s walking around with Joss. “You’ll probably have to show me where they keep them anyways,” he adds. Not that he’d been snooping per se, but he almost wonders if this is some sort of tactic used by Broadripple to look for contraband. “Hey, you don’t think the school did it, do you?”

“Eh, something like that. I don’t think I pay enough attention during mass,” she confessed with a chuckle. She was far more interested in watching the clock than she was in watching Father Doheney during his long monologues about the teachings of the bible and whatnot. “They do say he works in mysterious ways, right?” like stealing a pair of dirty socks and a lighter from a couple of teenagers, sure.

She pulled a face briefly, “I’m going to have to show you where I think I keep them,” she corrected him. She had a pretty good idea of where they would be from her brief visits to the main hall to talk to Coach Cobb when he was around the Retreat but otherwise, she was just going on instinct and a lot of hoping for the best. “Uh,” she uttered hesitantly, trying to follow Orion’s train of thought. Ultimately, she came up short, she didn’t know where the hell he was going with that. “You lost me, why would the school take my socks?” she asked sceptically, raising an eyebrow as she turned to the male, already leading in the direction of the main hall. “Don’t tell me you think it’s some creepy Catholic voodoo thing,” she’d heard enough ghost stories around the Retreat to have had enough of them for a lifetime.

#rion c.

@lucygson

Jocelyn certainly didn’t consider herself to be somebody that was easily spooked. If there was anything that served as proof of somebody’s sturdy resolve, it was surely years of friendship with Gwen Prescott.

Despite this, however, Joss found herself slightly rattled by the commotion at the Retreat that night. She’d heard the sounds, much like the majority of her cabin mates but it was their buzzing anxiety that forged her own as she stared out of the window and into the darkness. “Is anybody going out there?” she asked nobody in particular. She kept her hockey stick by her bed and with shin guards and a mouthguard for makeshift armor, she was pretty sure she could tackle whatever was stirring outside...or at least run the fuck away from it if things took a nasty turn.

She turned over her shoulder, a chill crawling up the length of her spine when she felt the presence of somebody behind her. Admittedly she was pleased to see that it was Lucy and not one of the boys trying to jump scare her or somebody she was less friendly with trying to buddy up with her for reasons unknown. “Hey,” she greeted, offering some semblance of a smile that was only half genuine given the circumstances. “What do you think Pinoe would do at a time like this?” she asked, wishing she was on a nickname basis with the soccer legend and also wishing she was there to guide them or better yet, kick some ass on their behalf.

#lucy g.

orioncarlson:

☆

𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘, 𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐒, though he still feels the emptiness in his pocket, like there is something distinctly missing from him. Rion’s independent to a fault, and relying on others for his precious light seemed impossible to him. Lighting his cigarette ( or joint ) indoors is out of the question, especially with the amount of narcs walking around their cabin, but the matches are a good alternative. Still, he doesn’t say it. Rion has his ego after all, even underneath all the brooding moodiness. Or perhaps he had one because of it.

“Yeah, and if God’s the one that stole my lighter, he must have stolen your lucky socks to send you a message too, right?” Crossing his arms, he nods, all-too sardonic. “And what message would that be?” He didn’t peg her as someone who participated in the Jesus shit, as he’d so lovingly put it, but then again, you could never tell at Broadripple. One moment you could be talking about apple pie, and the next moment, you could be listening to some story about God’s will or love or whatever. “Anyways, I just —” He pauses, uncertain of whether to reveal what he’d be saying next. “It’s an invasion of privacy.” He’d kept the lighter in an open seam of his suitcase, barely noticeable by someone who wasn’t specifically looking for it. Swallowing, he nods over at the rest of her stuff, throwing her a look. “You sure you didn’t just wash it along with your other stuff?”

She narrowed her eyes slightly, her features contorting as she tried to imagine what exactly God was trying to say to her by snagging her lucky socks. Don’t be disgusting, perhaps? “Maybe it’s something like uh- make your own luck,” she suggested, though it sounded more like a quote from one of those handbooks on how to survive and thrive in business.

“Yeah,” she could agree with that much, “It fucking sucks,” she concurred, even if that hadn’t been his sentiment exactly. “I’m trying not to think about somebody going through all of my things to get to the stuff that was missing or tossed out into the yard like trash,” she confessed, it made her skin crawl to think of somebody- anybody for that matter, handling her underwear and personal effects. “One-hundred and ten percent sure,” she confirmed without hesitation, she knew they were missing because she knew she would never let them slip into the wash and lose all of their magic mojo. “Are you going over to the main hall to get matches? I’m coming with,” she insisted, now she wanted some of her own to bargain with other students without lighters and she wanted to see what was up with the rest of the camp, now that she’d pretty much secured her things.

#rion c.

connyr0:

✦

unlike connor, it appeared that jocelyn had probably been sleeping before the sound echoed across camp. meeting his somewhat manic energy with tired and half awake energy. but still, he was glad to be met with jocelyn and not any of the more fear inducing seniors they shared a cabin with. like gwen, or basically any dude that wasn’t ezra. “ there was a possum trying to get in the roof? ” he repeated, pausing a beat before he added “ wait, possums have rabies, right? or they can have them? ” he asked, maybe focusing on the wrong thing in all this. “ i didn’t see a possum out the window but i don’t wanna risk getting rabies. ”

“No,” well yes but no, “I mean yes, there was a possum, no- I don’t know if it was trying to get into the roof. It was in a tree by the path from the main hall and then it got spooked and hid but it wasn’t too far from here, maybe it came back and wanted to hide inside,” she didn’t know what she was talking about, she felt like she could have been asleep still and having some sort of elaborate dream. Though more concerning than the idea of dreaming about an intruder in the night was a dream about Connor Roberts of all people.

She folded her arms across her chest as a chill crept up her spine, “Probably, I don’t know,” she was saying ‘I don’t know’ a lot, she felt but it was true. She didn’t know anything about opossums and she sure as hell didn’t know what to do if there was one in their cabin. That was a teacher’s duty, for sure.

“If there’s any way for anything to get inside, we’ll be able to see from the outside. You know, like any holes in the roof or cracks in the walls,” there were probably a hundred other ways creatures could intrude on their sleeping quarters but she was in no state to figure them all out now.

#conny r.

orioncarlson:

☆

𝐀𝐇 — 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐒. Rion should’ve guessed; he’d been staring at the walls of her bunk, posters of athletes and medals galore. Really, he wonders what the hell could be so lucky about a pair of socks, but then again, he isn’t one to judge. At least outwardly so. “Right, because all of your athletic ability was in those socks, right?” He purses his bottom lip, eyes narrowed nodding along to his sarcastic theory. And yet, she’d still challenged him, seemingly unperturbed by his cranky demeanor. A barb of her own, in fact, aimed straight towards his personality. He steals a beat, staring her down, before opening his mouth again. “My lighter. My only lighter,” he adds. The annoyance begins to bubble over in his stomach again, and he shoves his hands in his pockets, finger pinching the twisted end of the joint.

“Maybe I’m a sentimental type,” she offered, conceding to the implication of his question. He had made his point; no her athletic ability wasn’t woven into the fibres of a pair of questionably sanitary socks but there was still something special about them if you asked her. Perhaps it was a placebo effect, a string of coincidences or a load of horse shit but either way, it was something.

She pressed her palm flat to her chest, feigning despair though she didn’t put a whole lot of effort into the act, “Devastating,” she commented, her words void of the remorse she was trying to emulate and her lips desperate to pull into a smile. “If only there were a handful of stoners at this school that have pocketfuls of lighters at any given time” and there was, “or- or some other way to create fire- God, if only there was a way,” she leaned into the drama now, “Like...the stove top in the kitchenette in the main hall, for example,” she reminded him with eyebrows raised. It wasn’t particularly profound, “-or the matches they use to light the bonfire every night,” she added. She snapped her fingers, “Actually- maybe this is more than that. Maybe this is God telling you to quit,” she suggested, though she’d never had any revelations from the Heavens before, making fun of Rion when he was grumpy sounded like the perfect opportunity to start believing in the powers that be.

#rion c.

connyr0:

Location: Senior Cabin Plot Opportunity: 001

@ba-central

everything about the retreat was fucking weird, connor was starting to accept that. there was something about it that made it feel like his heart was permanently in his throat. and he couldn’t decide whether that something was something explainable like being in a new weird location in even closer proximity to people who said rude things about him and his friends. or if it was something less explainable like supernatural entities fucking with them, or plain old nature getting revenge for whatever happened in the woods that made it feel so creepy all the time.

the recent ransacking of belongings didn’t help. again it could be people– assholes fucking with everyone, but what would an asshole want with his shitty digital recorder that he’d bought for like five dollars at a thrift shop. or his casey’s ant man shirt. or a postcard, a pair of socks, a shoe, a pair of sunglasses, or any of the other things he’d heard people were missing since that day. what also didn’t help was the clatter that disturbed his sorting through files on his laptop in the middle of the night. he jumped, surprised by the sound, pulling his headphones from his ears by their cord. he sat still for a second, a split second before he scrambled from his bed to basically press his nose against the window. looking in the direction he thought he’d heard the noise from he didn’t see anything, but he was sure he had heard something.

barefoot, and dressed in his pyjamas ( black sweatpants and a star wars shirt ) he backed away from the window, turned and made his way into the hallway. quickly, he wanted to see whatever had made the sound– he wanted to see what it was before it ran off so he could clear his mind of the thought that he was five minutes away from being in his very own poltergeist film. but with that intention, he was moving too quickly and ran directly into someone as he stepped out of his room. “ shit– sorry, ” he quickly apologised, almost backing into a wall in the process. he kept his voice low, last time he’d checked the time it’d been like three am. “ did you hear that noise outside too? ” maybe he wasn’t being haunted maybe he was just hearing things. “ just before, ” he clarified, “ i swear i heard– i don’t know, a crash or something. ”

Joss had had the good sense to pull a pair of sneakers on before she ventured outside of her cabin room but hadn’t thought to dress herself in anything more substantial than a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized hoodie, despite the cold night air.

She gasped as Connor’s body collided with her own but slapped her palm across her mouth before she could scream or make any more noise than that. “Sorry,” she followed up soon after his apology, too focused on her own racing heartbeat to think of anything more intelligent to say to the male. She nodded her head before she spoke, her mouth dry and her tongue getting caught behind her teeth before she could process her own thoughts, “Yeah, I heard something- I don’t know what I heard,” sure, a crash was a good word for it she supposed, better than anything she could come up with half asleep. “I thought it might be that possum Frankie found trying to get into the roof or something,” she confessed, though it had freaked her out a little more than anything the size of a possum could reasonably achieve.

#conny r.

faithfullymckay:

Faith was firmly of the belief that this was not a funny prank. Of course Faith rarely saw the humour in pranks, but she could at least turn a blind eye to the ones that were harmless but this…well this was mean, and it was stealing from people. Even if it was stealing nonsensical things that nobody would miss in theory. “Language,” The blonde chastised as she entered the room, clearly looking for her own missing belonging if the way she reluctantly knelt down onto room four’s dirty floor was anything to go by. “Have you seen a green scrunchie anywhere?” She asked, having hopped from room to room hoping that the thief had dropped in during their way out. She really didn’t want to have to search the surrounding woods for it.

It was easy to remember not to curse around teachers or other members of the school faculty, adults in general perhaps but it was much harder to remember to protect the sensibility of particularly delicate students like Faith McKay. “Sorry- I’m just freaked out,” she excused herself without really thinking about it. “Uh,” she hesitated, taking a moment to look around the room, though barely any time passed before she was shaking her head, “Not that I can think of. Just a regular scrunchie? What kind of green? Lime? Dark?” she asked, trying to sound invested in Faith’s plight to draw attention away from her own potty mouth. “It sounds like the sorta thing somebody would pick up and claim as their own,” yes, Joss had done that before, “I’d check everybody’s wrists before I started checking under bunks,” she suggested.

#faith m.

lunaturners:

ba-central

It wasn’t that her bag had been dropped something outside her room, no, everything she had brought along was scattered all over the Retreat. So far, she had managed to get her hands on a handfull of clothes along with some crystals and the single book she had brought along in the hopes of maybe finishing it this time. It seemed all her things were somewhere around the Retreat, because as she walked further away from the main hall she kept on finding things all over the grass, on some bushes and even hidden behind a few rocks. There was however one thing she still couldn’t seem to find, one of her bracelets.

Was this how she was supposed to spend the rest of the weekend? Chasing after any clue that would tell her where the rest of her things were? Luna threw the belongings she had been holding in her arms, as they hit the ground she covered her face with her hands and screamed loudly in frustration, her screams were muflled due to her hands but still audible. “This is the single worst fucking treasure hunt in the history of treasure hunts! What the fuck? What the f—” Out of the corner of her eye she got a glimpse of another student. Luna cleared her throat before she kneeled down to pick up her things once again.

Jocelyn pressed her lips together, observing in silence as Luna reacted in a way that the soccer captain felt was befitting for everybody. She wished she had the energy to do the same but after gathering up her things and helping a few of her teammates and classmates do the same, she was pretty emotionally drained, lukewarm rather than nearing boiling point.

“I wouldn’t say the t-word too loud around here, they might think it’s a good idea for bonding and send us out with maps and compasses,” she noted. It was supposed to be a joke but the further she got into the suggestion, the more it sounded like a realistic activity for the SWAT to drag them all into with the faculty’s stamp of approval in tow. “Did you find everything? I’m still missing a shirt, a sweatshirt, a pair of socks and my history textbook,”

#luna t.

orioncarlson:

𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑, wandering the halls of the senior cabin, sour look glued to his face like it wouldn’t come off. He knows he’s the only one ( though he’s almost positive that Arlo’s just misplaced his stupid sunglasses ), but it’s still a loss considering he has a perfectly good joint in his pocket just begging to be smoked. Frankly, he’s in no mood to hang around anyone else, but what someone says in the neighboring cabin is almost funny, bordering on ridiculous. “Socks,” he starts, strolling in, hands stuffed into his sweatshirt pocket, “they stole your socks?” Half-incredulous, Rion scoffs. “I wish they stole my goddamn socks.” Grumbling, he rolls his eyes.

“Lucky socks,” she repeated, reiterating the condition of the filthy socks as if it should make all the difference to Rion. Maybe they weren’t so lucky after all, since they seemed to be the only thing that was missing from Jocelyn’s things. She had a cover of Sports Illustrated signed by the captain of Team USA women’s soccer, she had medals, ribbons and expensive sports equipment and gear all over the place. Of all the valuable things she owned, how unlucky was it that one of her most sentimental possesions would go missing first? “What did you lose?” she asked, half curious and half challenging the male to prove that his loss was greater than hers. “Aside from your sense of compassion, I mean,” she teased, trying to hold a straight face.

#rion c.

arloiporter:

“Tragic.” He exclaimed in a tone that lacked all emotion as he leaned on the door frame. Arlo was well aware he should probably go back to his room and help his roommates put the place back in order, but he had made it his mission to find the one thing he was missing, if he had to spend the rest of the night searching then so be it but he would get his sunglasses back. “Wait, what do you mean lucky so—” He sighed and waved a hand around as if he was physically dismissing the subject. Wasting time getting involved in other people’s business would get him no closer to finding what was his. The floorboards slightly creaked as he invited himself him. “Have you seen a pair of sunglasses laying around? Or a certain someone who might’ve taken them?”

“Well, yeah, it is tragic, you can replace cotton and elastic, you can’t replace history or good fortune,” she was mostly speaking to herself, thinking out loud in response to Arlo’s indifferent tone of voice. Maybe he didn’t believe in luck or maybe he just didn’t give a shit. At his next question, she pressed her lips together, awarding him a telling look instead of verbally answering him. It was probably best for both of them that they didn’t discuss the details of Jocelyn’s un-laundered laundry, she determined.

She hadn’t seen them but she hadn’t been looking for them either. It was in her opinion that a pair of lucky socks were way more sentimental than a pair of regular old sunglasses but for the sake of avoiding argument, she kept it to herself. “What do they look like?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “-and don’t be a smartass, I know what sunglasses look like, I just mean what color, what brand?” she insisted, catching her classmate out before he took the opportunity to be cheeky with her.

#arlo p.

“Oh shit, it’s my lucky socks,” Joss announced to nobody in particular, realising for the first time what it was that had been stolen from her. It seemed like just about everybody at the Retreat was missing one thing or the other and for a while, she’d thought she had been spared the angst but now she was realising that just like her peers, she’d been robbed of something strange. “They took my lucky socks,” she reiterated, lifting up her mattress to make sure there wasn’t anything stashed away under there to fool her. “That’s so fucking weird,” she was mostly talking to herself but she was sure that anybody that overheard her could agree that stealing a pair of used socks from somebody was strange. She wondered if they knew by now that they were lucky because she hadn’t washed them for seasons and only wore them for special games and competitive events.

#retreat:starter

lucygson:

Lucy smiled, she almost made a comment about how, surprisingly, some people didn’t. She’d gone to Starbucks once in her life and they had managed to spell it Lucie. She almost debated changing her name to that just to be more unique, but she kept quiet. She liked how Jocelyn said her name.

She rolled her eyes, she knew challenging Gwen was a bad idea but that didn’t make it any less appealing. She was a troublemaker at heart - but Joss probably knew better than anyone what it was like to get on her bad side. Lucy was already there, she didn’t want to dig much deeper. “Fine. I won’t do anything. Unless you change your mind and give me the go ahead.”

Lucy didn’t initially let go of Jocelyn’s hand. She was a very physical person, she’d hold anyone’s hand if they let her, but holding the hand of a pretty girl made a pretty shitty day much better. Eventually she let go, mainly because she saw something move in the trees and she ran towards it like and excitable child. “I promise! Look, a rabbit,” she said. She crouched down in the bushes, the rabbit stared back it her for a moment before running away. Lucy stood up again and spun around to face her companion. “Do you have a map? I um- made mine into a paper crown and it ripped,” she admitted sheepishly.

She pursed her lips, twisting her mouth slightly as she considered Lucy’s words. On some days, Joss could admit to contemplating getting revenge on Gwen. She thought, on occasion, that it might just fill the gaping wound in her emotional spectrum if she made Gwen pay for how many pieces she’d manage to break her heart into. On most days, however, the warm memories of her friendship with Gwen were more than enough to dismiss any residual bitterness she had toward the Seton house captain and on a lot of those days, she’d give just about anything to be best friends with her again. “I’ll keep on the maybe pile, how’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she pitched the suggestion.

“Something like that,” she confirmed a little absently as she was mostly focused on digging her phone out of her pocket, unlocking it, and passing it to Lucy. “I took a photo of it cos I knew I’d lose it within a day or two,” she explained. The physical map was still on her bunk or maybe she’d shoved it into her backpack- or had she pressed it between the pages of her history textbook? Now she couldn’t remember, so it was just as well she’d anticipated it’s impending disappearance.

#lucy g.

milobreevort:

Everything was new and shiny once. He repeated her words in his head. “Oh god, that’s awfully optimistic.” He said in disgut but there was certain playfulness to his tone. If he was anything he was a pessimist, it grounded him to reality and prepared him for the worst case scenario, which in his experience, was usually the outcome of most things. The corner of his mouth threated to quirk up. He knew exactly what she was talking about. Milo and sleep didn’t get along and he had spent countless hours in the dead of night scrolling on his phone for the most bizarre quizzes he could find, she was right, they were all kind of stupid but… “Yeah, they’re sort of fun.” He said voice barely above a whisper as he looked anywhere but in her direction. “I you tell anyone.” He said looking back, the promise of a threat hanging in the air but there was no malice behind his voice.

“Kinda gross, huh?” she offered, wrinkling her nose in disgust at herself as a chuckle left her lips. “My Mom is one of those types- the silver lining in everything, always,” she had inherited at least part of that from the woman. “Guess we’ll have to find some other way to kill time without a stable internet connection? Is that even possible in 2020?” she asked, raising an eyebrow, “I have to assume our brains have already evolved to be incapable of perceiving joy without a screen involved, right?” she joked though maybe there was some truth to it. She laughed at Milo’s feeble threat and raised her hands in defense, “What? Think I’m gonna tweet it to my twenty-three followers? Your secrets safe with me, champ”

#Milo B.

lucygson:

Lucy never admitted it, but she liked to be looked at. She was a secret attention seeker, although perhaps it wasn’t as secret as she thought with how loud and obviously aggressive she was. She especially liked the way that Joss was looking at her, although she pretended not to notice. “I think people should start calling me Rogue. Lucy’s too boring,” she grinned. “Or maybe I just like the way you say it,” she said, her grin quickly morphing into a smirk.

“Maybe we should team up. Teach her that the peasants can bite back,” she half-joked. The idea of messing with Gwen was appealing, but even Lucy knew that that was dangerous. Being threatened by the girl was scary enough, it scared her a little to think what she could actually do.

Lucy’s whole face lit up, “Great!” She grabbed Joss’ hand and pulled her out of the room. “I’m sure we’ll find something to love about this place. Woodland can be super interesting,” she promised, as if she had to convince the other girl that there was a positive about joining her, like her company wasn’t enough.

“I’ll try and spread the word,” she confirmed with a light chuckle chasing her words, she didn’t think Rogue was a particularly flattering nickname but then again, she didn’t think Lucy was a boring name either, she thought it was nice. “-and Lucy is a really nice name,” she insisted, “At least people always know how to spell it,” she added as an afterthought, another laugh tacked onto the end of her comment. She’d been explaining how to spell ‘Jocelyn’ for over a decade now and she had a funny feeling she’d have to keep explaining it for as long as she lived.

She raised an eyebrow, “That’s pretty thin ice to skate on,” she noted, speaking from experience, “-and two people are twice the weight of one on thin ice,” she added. She hadn’t meant to stretch her analogy as far as she did but it worked, she thought. Fucking with Gwen was dangerous territory but teaming up with somebody to fuck with Gwen was infinitely worse. Gwen hated being fucked with but she also hated being outnumbered or worse, alone.

Joss accepted Lucy’s hand graciously and allowed the other girl to lead her out of the cabin. She tugged at the collar of her jacket, pulling it up to shield her neck as she did so and smiled at Lucy’s enthusiasm, “Can I hold you to that promise? Cos so far, I’m not convinced,” she said with a chuckle, though she had noticed one thing about the retreat that she was already starting to love. The opportunity to talk to kids she’d never bothered to get to know before. It was strange the way their new accommodation forced them to bond with one another in ways they’d never even thought about humoring before. She hoped it would last, she had a lot of burned bridges that she hoped to rebuild some day.

#lucy g.

milobreevort:

“It’s hard to picture it was ever something other than,” He tried to come up with a word that could be used to describe the place and the feeling that came with it but he thought perhaps that word was yet to be invented. He settled on a vague guesture and a “this.” He almost laughed at the mention of his country in that sentence. “Yeah, that makes sense. It’s the weather, you know? Some people start to lose it in time.” He shrugged. “Why were you even reading that? You don’t strike like the creepy-strange type reading kind.”

When Milo gestured, Joss followed the line of motion, taking a moment or so to observe their environment in all its dilapidated glory. God, it really was a disaster, wasn’t it? “Everything was new and shiny once,” she noted, maybe that was an optimists view of things but she thought it was a good way to look at the world and perhaps even people as well. She chuckled at the question and shook her head, “It wasn’t like I looked it up or anything, it was just on Facebook or something- you know, like those ‘which condiment are you?’ quizzes or ‘pick a chicken nugget and we’ll tell you how many kids you’re going to have’ they’re all kind of stupid but it’s a good way to waste time,” especially if you didn’t have anything better to do and sometimes Joss simply didn’t.

#milo b.

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