#application sample

[ace-and-aro-wlw-positivity]

Moodboards Inspired by Oriented AroAce Flag // Mod Submision

[tournament-hq]

Under the cut you’ll find the application sample for the character of Fleur Delacour, written by admin Vex. 

ooc introduction;

Vex, 26 yo (I am an ancient one), she/her pronouns, GMT-4 is my timezone. I’m a mass com student, a part time writer, and I work in Marketing. I can’t touch my nose with my tongue and I use way too many exclamation points. 

character related questions;

x face claim?: Dove Cameron. The real life veela.  x general: Fleur Isabelle Delacour. Seventeen years old. She/her pronouns, cis woman. Born in 1977, September 24th. Fleur is a Libra and a Neutral Good character.  x why this character?: She’s my absolute favourite character of the lightning era. I love how complete and developed her arc is; from being a snobbish pretty girl to a brave fighter, loving mother and wife. I like that she breaks the “flawless blonde” stereotype, and I’ve always wanted to play her.   x briefly mention a couple of plots you’d like to explore in this roleplay: Triwzard tournament for sure. I want to write Fleur bonding with the rest of the champions, building friendships beyond the ones she already has. I’m also interested in seeing how her personality develops. She’s been thrown into a foreign country in the midst of conflict, she doesn’t fully understand the habits or the language and now she needs to win this tournament and coexist with these people she doesn’t even know. That’s quite the life challenge, and I’m looking forward to see how that impacts on her. 

anything else you want to change?;

(shrug emoji)

backstory;

x Apolline Fornier and Alain Delacour never wanted a daughter; let alone two. They had gotten married purely by impulse, both of them gorgeous, both of them part veela (her half, him a quarter), successful; and on the way to becoming quite wealthy. They were in their prime when Fleur was born; and even though she was quite the unexpected addition to the family, they initially believed they were going to be able to tackle this challenge. Perhaps they were wrong. 

x Fleur is pretty sure their parents love each other, in their own particular way. They make their fortune selling magical curiosities. Kitchen appliance that sings, rare ivy facial treatments, whatever it is, the French public goes crazy. Then again, who is going to say no to a pair like that? They are a killer team, even though the business often means they’re away from home more than they’re in. That’s when Héléne Fornier comes into play. Fleur’s grandmother is the person that raises her. The woman teaches how to speak, how to walk, even how to perform magic from a very young age. They get so close that when Fleur finally has to start school, her grandma gifts her a custom made wand - one that has a single veela hair belonging to her as a core. 

x Her parents’ marriage is lucrative, but complicated. Both Fleur and Gabrielle births only makes things even harder for the couple. They quickly realise family life is not for them, and neither is monogamy. The Delacours easily reach an agreement to open their marriage to other people as long as it doesn’t affect their public business. Fleur is five and her sister is on the way when the first scandal hits the family. The press has discovered her father having an affair with the singer Lorcan D’eath. After that episode, things are never the same again. 

x Alain is almost never at home, even less than before, and Apolline becomes obsessed with her daughter’s beauty and popularity. She parades her and shows her off to exhaustion. Fleur is constantly dragged to French pureblood society parties and photographed everywhere she goes. She learns to hate the attention; to despise every single compliment, every admiration look. She longs for her moments with her grandma, when she can practise magic and read stories, and play with her sister. She knows her parents love her, she does, but perhaps that kind of twisted, incomplete love is the only thing they can give - both each other and their daughters. 

x The first marriage proposal arrives when Fleur is only fifteen years old. It’s from a man ten years her older, and it comes with a ring filled with diamonds and the promise of an empire at her feet. She rejects it, and even though her mother claims to agree; she immediately notices the disappointment in her eyes. That’s when she truly learns about her own beauty, about her veela heritage - how she is so easily able to charm anyone she wants with a simple smile, or how she emits a faint silvery glow every time she’s trying to impress someone. That’s when she starts enjoying it too, all the attention and admiration she used to despise. 

x She wants to be more than that, though. Fleur doesn’t understand why a girl can’t be both, the reason why the way she looks has to determine the way she thinks. So she tries. She excels at school, she becomes a powerful witch; and still is not enough. Not enough to make her mother proud, to make her parents love her the way she wants to. It makes her build a shell around her, she stops trusting people, eyes always on the prize. She becomes the ice beauty everyone always thought her to be, with lava running through her veins. When Headmistress Madame Maxime talks to the students about the Triwizard Tournament she doesn’t doubt it. It isn’t even about the money, it’s about the glory, and the fame, and she wants that - not for her parents, or her admirers, she wants it for herself.  

quote;

“but—you can make life. out of nightfall, keeping your mouth soft. palms open.”

extras;

- Wand:  9½" long, made of rosewood, Veela hair core. Unyielding. This wand looks like metal, (though made of rosewood), and seems to resemble a garden gate. That might be related to the fact that the wand is "inflexible."  Rosewood wands are quite rare. They are not very compatible with Dark magic as this wood represents love and purity. Rosewood wands are known to excel in love spells and healing magic. Veela hair cores make for "temperamental" wands. They excel when it comes to charms and fire magic, but given its Veela nature, have trouble casting spells underwater. A wand of unyielding flexibility finely tunes itself to its original owner's preferences and doesn't stray from those preferences, even in the hands of a new owner; the new owner will just have to get used to it. It is particularly good for combative and healing magic. Unyielding wand owners tend to be very confident in themselves and/or in the things they believe in. They tend to be intelligent, somewhat cynical, and usually have well-defined principles that they will not stray from ever. 

- Patronus: Harpy eagle. It’s possible this has to do with the fact that Fleur is a quarter veela, but it’s never been confirmed. 

- Boggart: Gabrielle’s corpse. 

- Amortentia scents: old book pages, roses, fresh baked pastries, mint.

- Veela traits: Due to her being a quarter Veela, Fleur has inherited a couple of abilities or traits that come directly from that species. She emits a silvery glow whenever she’s trying to impress or charm someone, or whenever she’s feeling overwhelmingly happy. Even though she isn’t able to truly hypnotise or haze people like a full veela would, people tend to become captivated for a couple of seconds after seeing her for the first time. The effect passes fast enough and continuous exposure makes it less and less strong every time. Fleur isn’t able to transform herself into a bird like creature when she gets mad; but many people have seen her features become sharper and scarier when it happens. Neither is she able to throw fireballs like full veelas do; but she does have a special talent to cast small fires without her wand, and things around her can suddenly combust when she’s too upset.

- Headcanons: (1) Fleur’s mother didn’t think it was necessary for her to learn any English, since she’s supposed to work at the family business when she graduates. However, that isn’t her plan, and she’s been practising English on the side - which comes very handy now that she has to travel to Hogwarts. (2) Fleur is pansexual, attracted to all genders both sexually and romantically. When it comes to her love life she is very open when it comes to sex, and quite forward. However, she keeps everything very reserved and only makes a show of it when doing so can be useful for her. (3) She’s no stranger to starting a fight. Never a physical one, but her wand is always at the ready. (4) She doesn’t like Quidditch. In fact, she can’t really handle herself on a broom. (5) Her favourite place in the word is Paris; and her favourite treats are macarons. She’s practically obsessed with them and can easily eat a dozen and maybe even more. (6) Fleur is an excellent dancer and has a beautiful singing voice. It might have to do with the fact that her mother made her take lessons as a child. However, nowadays she doesn’t really show off those talents unless it’s absolutely necessary. (7) Her sister is the person she loves more than anyone in the world. Followed by her grandmother. (8) When her mother found out she was going to Hogwarts to try and participate in the Triwizard Tournament she thought she was insane. It was only after she told her about the amount of media covering the event that she was on board with the idea. Her father, however, was very proud of her and actually congratulated her. (9) Apolline is in talks with Rita Skeeter to sell an exclusive interview, but Fleur isn’t really worried because she barely tells her mother anything. Her grandma is the only person who knows everything about her. (10) Fleur loves kids, and she would like to be a mother in the future. However, she’d like for her career to come first and she isn’t too crazy right now to find a husband, or even a significant other. (11) Fleur isn’t going to Hogwarts to make friends. She respects the concept of bonding between schools, but she’s there to be elected champion, and win; nothing more. (12) Healing magic is Fleur’s favourite type of magic. It’s no strange for her to take care of the people she loves if they’ve been hurt in any way. 

TAG.

[acesandeightsrp]

Application Sample

OOC:

Name: Alex

Timezone: GMT + 2

Age: 27

Triggers: Rape

IC

FC: Chris Evans

TROPE: The Captain

NAME: Connor Pritchard

AGE: 34

APPLICATION:

Video log: Cortex file:// dated 24 yr 3 days; Gamma Mu Cortex Node; 23:47 hrs]

FROM: Janet Ward

TO:  Jim Pritchard

LOADING VIDEO: Fail

AUDIO RESTORATION IN PROGRESS:

“—Jimmy? I don’t know if you are even getting these, they are scanning the Helion logs now, it’s not safe. It’s not safe here anymore. I’m – I’m afraid Jimmy. I –  need you to come for Connor, he’ll be better off with you than with me, I can’t leave my mother behind and…she’s getting sicker by the day, they can’t do anything about it at this point. I – Oh, God, Jimmy, you were right, I should’ve stayed with you. I should’ve just taken Connor and Mum and Jezebel and left this damn farm behind. It’s late for you and me, but I need you to take Connor. He’s…He looks so much like you. I can see it in him and it scares me…

There are troops here, I don’t know what for and no one is telling us anything, but I can sense it’s nothing good. Please, contact me as soon as possible.”

Next file

[Loading]

Federation report, Gamma Mu Hospital entry.

Autopsy: BPD110094-67F.

DECEDENT: Jannet Ward.

Autopsy Authorized by: Dr. Doe for Gamma Mu John Dannet Hospital

Identified by fingerprints and dental comparison

EXTERNAL EXAMINATION:

Well developed, badly nourished, white female with multiple blasts and fragment injuries all over her body. The cause of death is chest trauma due to the pod crash.

The first time Connor saw ‘Aces…’, the ship was just landing. Cold blue and loud it wasn’t the biggest ship he’d ever seen before, but it was the first one he saw this close. Close enough to feel the wind whipping at his cheeks. His grandmother, dressed in all black, was standing next to him, holding tightly onto his hand. Connor glanced at her face as she looked down to smile weakly at him, trying to hold herself together. She looked a lot like his mother. They both had that distinct way in which their shoulders tipped back and then up whenever they had to brave through something.

“Connor.” She knelt down next to him. “That’s your father’s ship.” Her hand darted up in a brief gesture wiping something invisible off his cheek. “I know your mother never spoke much about him. It was hard for her to speak about him, baby.”

Connor looked away, towards the ship as the engines quieted down, and it looked more like a living breathing creature than a machine. He used to wonder who his father was. Sometimes Connor imagined that he was a farmer. Like the fathers of the children he went to school with. They would pick them up in their pods after school, dusty and worn out with the silver of metal showing under the paint job. Other times Connor imagined that he was a soldier, like the men on the holograms that fought for justice and freedom and crime and wore a shiny new armor.

“Your mother called him here. Connor, I need you to listen to me.” She looked at him, with eyes big and serious, the same as his mothers and, Connor knew, the same as his own. “Your mother called your father here before.” His grandmother twisted her lips gently unable to say the words she had to. “He’s here to take you with him.”

“But I wanna stay with you!” The boy insisted, brows furrowing down with confusion and fear. Going off, going away? He didn’t want that. Her hand slipped down to his shoulder gripping him tightly. “It’s not safe for you here, Connor! I know you won’t understand this now, but one day it will all make sense. Promise me you’ll be good.” Connor sniffed some and nodded. Big crocodile tears gathering in his eyes.    

“Is that him?”

He looked up at the tall man that towered over the two of them and caught the nod of his grandmother. They spoke for a while, voices hushed and hurried. This was the first time he saw what true worry looked like. Fear.

“Hey, kiddo.” The man turned to him after a while. His smile stretched awkwardly on his face like he didn’t know what to say next or even if what he had said was right. “That right there will be your new home.” Connor looked back at the ship not knowing it would soon be more than just his home – it would be his whole life.

ORIGINS & FAMILY:

Name: Connor Pritchard

Nickname: Pritchard

Reason for name: Connor was his grandfather’s name. His father had no say in naming him, the man wasn’t even around when Connor was taking his first breath and Connor’s mother took the liberty of naming the baby after the one man that never left her.

Birthday: 6th July

Age: 37

Gender: Male

Place of birth: A colony on Gamma Mu where his mother had a farm.

Places lived since: Gamma Mu and onboard of Aces

Parents’ names, backgrounds, occupations:

Mother: His mother was the daughter of a simple farmer. He’d inherited the small piece of land from his own father and so on and so on until the day of the first settlers. Gamma Mu is a pretty decent Border planet, where things could get exciting every now and then but it was mostly dirt everywhere you looked at. His mother Janet wished for something more, longing for adventure and a life outside the borders of the farm, she met a handsome young Captain by the name of Jimmy Pritchard. Their romance was passionate and rather quick once she found out that she was pregnant. Janet never told Jimmy about the baby. He wasn’t the type of a man to stick in one place for too long and she knew he’d do it for her only to end up resenting her eventually for clipping off his wings. And even if Janet wanted adventure, she didn’t want to spend her whole life in space.

Number of siblings: None. If he doesn’t have to count in the crew of Aces.

Relationship with family (close? estranged?): Both parents are dead.

Happiest memory: The first time he saw ‘Aces..’ Connor was about ten years old, and he’d just lost everything he knew and loved. His life was about to get a helluva lot complicated, but that gray tin box that took the light of the sun like no other ship he’d ever seen turned out to be his first love. He’d argue it’s his only so far. His father taught him how to take care of the ship and that ship gave Connor hope and freedom in turn.

Childhood trauma: His mother’s passing. To this day, Connor refuses to believe that a woman that could handle a pod so well could perish in a crash. Not her. Machines spoke to Janet, she just knew how to handle them, like she knew how to handle everything else. All Connor has left of her is a hologram of her and his father that he gave to the man before he stepped off the Captain’s place. It’s been his most treasured possession.

Children of his/her own?: None that he’s aware of.

PHYSICAL

Height: 6 ft or 183 cm

Weight: 88 kg or 194 lbs

Build: Muscular.

Distinguishing facial features: Big blue eyes with dark circles.

Hair color: Sand Brown.

Usual hair style: Messy.

Eye color: Blue

Health (is this person usually sick? or very resilient?): Resilient, Connor never gets sick and in the rare times he does get sick, he wouldn’t let that affect his business. The ship is still up and running and under his control (at least, that’s what he likes to think). Aside from a very persistent and constant backache from late nights that he spent trying to come up with the best strategy to pull a job with ALLIE

Jewelry? Tattoos? Piercings?: On his left rib cage, there is a tattoo of ‘Aces…’ quite sloppily done, the lines are already blurry and uneven partly because it was done on a cheap Fringe station and partly because his body changed quite a bit since he was eighteen Connor gained some weight and some height.

Accent?: You can tell he’s Fringe born by the way he talks, but besides that no accents.

Unique mannerisms/physical habits: Cracking his knuckles and neck quite often.

INTELLECT

Level of education (high school drop out, undergrad BA/BS, PhD, MD, etc.): He attended school on Gamma Mu, but after his father took him on “Aces…” Connor’s education was ALLIE’s responsibility as was that of many other kids on ‘Aces…’

Level of self-esteem: Decent. He knows he’s good at his job. If there are any insecurities about his ways he wouldn’t let it show.

Gifts/talents: Amazing at poker.

Shortcomings: Can second guess himself a lot, Connor has the tendency to overcompensate for things. He’s a worrywart and a control freak and a total lost soul at the same time. Not that he’d show that to the crew ever, they are his responsibility to look after and keep alive.

Style of speech (loud, mumbler, articulate, etc.): Confident, can come off as loud. If’s he’s frustrated enough Connor will yell, he’s quick to get physical chances are arguments will escalate quickly when he’s under pressure.

“Left brain” or “right brain” thinker?: Left. He’s logic type of person Connor likes to have a plan for everything and anything. If the first plan fails to deliver, don’t worry, he has plan B and C all the way to Z

Makes decisions based mostly on emotions, or on logic?: He can be emotional, but nine times out of ten Connor will keep his emotions under wraps. He’s the level-headed person in a crisis until he’s not. His emotions will come to a dangerous boiling point if ignored for too long.

Life philosophy: If someone tries to kill you, you try and kill ‘em right back.“

Religious stance: Atheist.

Optimist or pessimist?: Pessimist, the worst kind – Connor thinks that he’s a realist taking everything into consideration, but the truth is he can get a bit gloomy with his predictions. If left alone, Connor will think himself into the worst outcome of every situation.

Extrovert or introvert?: Introvert.

Level of comfort with technology: Quite comfortable.

RELATIONSHIPS

Current marital/relationship status: Single.

Sexual orientation: Bisexual.

Past relationships: None serious.

Primary reason for being broken up with: Never around. Too controlling. No one wants to settle for the person that would never put them in the first spot and is literally always moving. Connor wouldn’t think of dating someone from his crew, they are all too close and he’s seen the messes such relationships can cause.

Most comfortable around (person): ALLIE

Oldest friend: The First Mate

VOCATION

Profession: Captain of Aces and Eights.

Past occupations: First mate of Aces and Eights, crewmember.

Passions: Space, Flying, History, Poker, Ginger beer, Burgers, Core Holomovies that inaccurately represent Fringe outlaw’s, Making fun of Federation Soldiers,

SECRETS

Life goals: Keep his crew alive. Keep flying.

Dreams: To someday settle on Gamma Mu.

Greatest fears: That he won’t be able to do his job. Won’t find the peace he’s looking for.

Most ashamed of: How scared he is.

Secret hobbies: Making bets with the universe.

Secret skills: He can not only cheat his way through poker, but also Connor is pretty decent at cheating on any dice game.

Crimes committed (and was he/she caught? charged?): Numerous, some of which he was almost caught for.

QUICK QUESTIONS

When someone gets in my way [I get determined.]

When someone treats me unfairly [I get pissed off.]

Rules are [mine.]

I couldn’t possibly [let anyone get hurt.]

I once felt guilty when [I don’t predict things correctly.]

Women think [quick.]

People embarrass me when they [want me to be emotional.]

I would get really angry if [someone threatened my crew.]

Men are [danger.]

Perfection is [Aces.]

Failure [is not an option.]

Family [is Aces.]

Intuition [not everything.]

It’s better to [think everything through.]

Sex is [luxury.]

It really annoys me when [ I have to repeat things.]

Experience [is a teacher.]

Life [ is scary.]

Children ought to [be protected.]

It scares me that [I can fail.]

Logic [can be tricky.]

Fun can [be relaxing.]

[pieceofyaz-blog]

Ah the month of January, the invigorating but yet anxiety-ridden anticipation of what's in store. For the majority of America it is still cold with no festive activities to look forward to. It is quite easy to then become a lifeless blob covered with layers of clothes and blankets hopelessly roaming the Internet in hopes for new inspiration and ideas. I take full responsibility for becoming a bum amid my winter break sorrow. This sorrow I've been experiencing is the overwhelming tendency to pan out many dare I say "resolutions" this year. As a former A type person, I've realized how easily inspiration runs out when too many ideas are on your plate. The key is: the less is better. Try focusing on a more general idea such as trying something new and being more open minded. This way it's more attainable and easier to do, therefore fulfilling your innate inspiration hunger. 

[senshistamping]

senshi stamping - iamtuxedomask - SAMPLE APPLICATION

Name (real or preferred nick): Mamoru Does your name suit you/Story behind your nick name: "Mamoru" means "to protect." I don't know if I do that very well, considering my girlfriend is the most powerful woman in all the galaxies. But I do try, with all the roses in the world do I try.

[Traits] Likes: Roses, green jackets, tiny kittens, rabbits, precious stones Dislikes: Strong Points: Weak Points: Hobbies:

[Desires] Preferred Occupation/Major: Childhood dream: Current dream: If there was nothing to hold me back, my dream would be:

[Favorites] Color: Food: Season: Place (can be city/town, room in home, or specific location):

[Are you more…] Optimistic or Pessimistic: Introverted or Extroverted: Impulsive or Compulsive: High or Low energy: Indoors or Outdoors:

[Thoughts on…] Love: Money: Fame: Friendship: Family: Spirituality:

[I think I…] am this Sailor Moon Character: would be friends with this Sailor Moon Character:

[stolengrace]

Lost Cause - Closed

    Some days Anna felt like she was completely alone trying to hold back a dam that was crumbling around her ears. Outcast from Heaven, on the run from angels and demons alike, some days it was all she could do to press on. Even Castiel, the brother she had always been closest to, had pushed her away.     However, when things really got their blackest she would remember two determined boys, humans, who were daring everything to challenge the fate that had been presented to them. They never gave up, those Winchesters, and their determination gave her hope. So she continued to work in the shadows trying to keep her head down and help whereever she could.     Today she was chasing down a rumor about a small unit of angels like herself who were trying to assist behind the scenes. When she arrived in the small town in southern Illinois the first thing she noticed was the quiet. Not the quite of a rural town in mid-afternoon, but the haunting quite of a town stricken by the end of days. As she cautiously moved along the main street, staying near the buildings, her uneasiness grew. She glanced through windows, looking for any sign of the humans who should be there, but she found nothing. Only empty rooms and the silent pall of death lingering around the abandoned buildings.     She rounded a corner and approached an open square cautiously. Something felt very wrong, and her instincts drew her towards a large brick building off to her right. A mounting sense of dread weighed heavier and heavier as she slowly pushed open the door that was left unlatched.     The building she found herself in was some kind of factory, but none of the details mattered to her. What drew her gaze were the lifeless bodies of three of her siblings, the scorched marks of their wings marring the concrete floor. So much for the renegades she had hoped to find. No doubt the faithful had discovered them here, and not too long ago by the lingering scent of char.     "Why? Why must it come to this?" she asked the empty room.     The familiar flutter of wings behind her caused her to become a blur of movement, her blade brandished at the angel who stood before her. His eyes flicked toward the bodies, empty and cold.     "This is where I found them. Our haven was not as secure as we thought, and they payed for our hubris with their lives." His voice sounded hollow and despairing. "You should go if you don't want to join them." he said, turning away.     "Wait!" she spoke, quickly. "What news have you of Castiel? Do you know where I can find him?"     "Castiel," he said in an empty tone, "our brother is lost to us. You should be more concerned with your own safety,. They're coming for us. They won't stop until all those who challenge are broken or dead."     With a flurry of unseen wings he was gone, leaving Anna alone with her fallen brethren, no closer to finding her old comrade or news of the Winchester boys. In a flurry her own she transported as well, far from the dead town, far from Illinois, and still so far from her goal.

[writingcrit]

Application Sample

1) Dear ______,

Choosing the life of a loved one over that of a complete stranger is a no-brainer. But what if it meant the death someone else you love? What do you do then? How would you choose? 

Several years prior to the narrative, Alex O’Connor’s father wrote an inflammatory article about one of the New York crime families, and the Martellos kidnapped him for it. Since then, Alex has been “working off her father’s debt”—she’s an assassin. Every kill keeps her father alive. Every kill works toward his freedom.

Alex isn’t a thug, she doesn’t enjoy killing for the sake of violence. Her only comfort in the job is that it’s quick. Get the job, recon the mark, make the kill, dispose of evidence—and then get back to college before anyone notices she’s been gone. Oh yeah, she’s a student at NYU, too.

But that simplicity is gone. The Martello family has a plot to take over the business of a rival family, the Corellis. When Alex is given her next manila folder, she expects it to be another fast job, but it’s not. She’s to befriend the mark and kill him only when other hit men are in position to dispose of other members of the Corelli family simultaneously. Her hit? A fellow student at NYU, Mick Corelli. As if that didn’t break her “code” into enough tiny pieces, throughout the process of befriending him under the guise of being his math tutor, Mick finds her out, and steals her heart, as well.

When the Martellos finally send the kill order, can she actually go through with it? Can she really kill Mick? And if she can’t, what does that mean for her father?

What has been described as a mix of Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Romeo and Juliet, and The Godfather all in one, A LOVE TO KILL FOR is a YA novel, complete at ###### words.

****************

2) Just as she’d thought, the picture in his file was a few years outdated. “Alex?” he greeted her cautiously as she approached him.

“You must be Beppe,” she said, smiling cordially.

“Yep. Well—I prefer Mick,” he told her with a bit of a blush.

“Mick? What, is that your middle name?” she said, playing it up.

“Yeah, short for Michelangelo. I come from an Italian family, so Beppe Corelli just sounds too stereotypical for my taste,” he joked.

Alex laughed; she had to admit that, for a mob kid, he had a pretty decent sense of humor about it.

“Cool. Mick it is, then. Well, should we get some lunch?”

“Sure,” he answered. She smiled at him and acted as normal as possible. Eventually, though, she knew she’d kill him, and as such she couldn’t help but picture a bullet hole in his forehead every now and then, which took her off guard.

What are you doing, Alex? she asked herself. You don’t get guilty about this sort of thing. He’s a mark. You kill him, you’re one step closer to seeing your dad again. That’s what you do, she thought, giving herself a pep talk. Shaking her head imperceptibly, she slapped on a convincing smile and kept up the rouse. She was a bit surprised that he paid for both their lunches; “Please, I insist. It’s how I was raised. And it’s only food points, after all,” he laughed. With that, Alex watched him, and he seemed to be looking at her quite often—did he find her attractive? If so, getting to know him would be that much easier, but not getting too involved with a dead man walking would be that much harder.

Over lunch at a table for two, Alex kept him on focus, asking him what previous math courses he’d taken and what he thought he was having most difficulty with in calculus. Soon enough, though, he managed to shift the focus onto Alex.

“So what’s your major?” he asked curiously, taking a bite off a French fry.

“Physics.”

“Really? Wow, you don’t seem the . . . uh . . . type,” he said, looking at her.

Alex shrugged. “I’m clever enough for it, and the field interests me—specifically liquid physics.” There’s only so much blood spatter you can witness before you become genuinely curious in how it all works, she added in her mind.

When lunch was over, they threw away their trash. They stood awkwardly silent, and then just Alex was about to give him a quick “goodbye,” Mick asked, “Hey, there’s a new exhibition at the art gallery. Would you be interested? My roommate’s not really the art type.”

“Neither am I,” Alex said bluntly, but seeing his disappointed reaction, quickly amended, “But I don’t have any plans this afternoon, so sure—why not?” He smiled, and they were soon off, walking across campus together. As they walked past a clique of preppy girls, Alex noticed quite a few of them checking out Mick. Looking at him closer, she could see why a bit; he was handsome, in the clichéd Italian way: dark hair, olive skin—not dark, but clearly not Anglo-Saxon white—and he did have a good shape. He works out—I’ll probably have to use tranquilizers before making a move on him, she noted for future reference.

In a few minutes, they had walked to Grey Art Gallery and started to look around. Alex had to admit, she’d never really gotten the point of these things. Photos can show one side of the world, but rarely did they show the extremes that the photographers were hoping for. She’d seen worse. She’d done worse. She followed Mick around, though, and mimicked his reactions, paused at the ones he paused at, leaned in when he did, laughed, smiled, frowned, sighed as he did. Her father might have been a journalist, but that didn’t mean that she saw the same things in society that others did. Society is what people imagine it to be. And Alex knew from experience just how often people imagined wrong. About an hour after they had arrived, Mick dropped a five-dollar bill into the donations box and they left.

“You’ve never been to one of these, have you?” he asked with a smirk, zipping up his hoodie against the wind.

“Yeah. I have. I’ve just never really paid much attention to them,” she admitted. For some reason, she was kind of worried that Mick would call her out on it—liar, poser, fraud—but he didn’t. He actually smirked a bit, and so she smiled back.

“Okay. Would a cup of coffee be more up your alley? I could use one to warm up.”

“Sure,” she answered, and they set off for a coffee shop about four minutes away. They gave their orders, and once again, Mick insisted on picking up the tab. Settling down at a corner table, Alex took off her hoodie, and she caught Mick looking at her tee.  It was a solid color, so there was no need for him to be looking at her chest, other than for the obvious. She was tempted to call him on it, but instead cleared her throat, and his attention was brought back up to her face.

“So, we’ve already established that I’m a Physics major and why, but what about you?”

“Oh, I’m a music major.”

“Taking calc for diversity requirements, then?” she said, playing coy.

“Yeah. Can’t wait to be done with it. No offense, you know. Math just isn’t my thing.”

“None taken.” Alex took a sip of her coffee. “Why music? What do you play?”

“Well, I play French Horn, but I love music in general. It’s just—no one in my family really appreciates the arts, so—I dunno—it just made it more appealing to me, I guess.”

“The artist rebel,” Alex said, smiling.

“Yeah. Sure. Let’s go with that,” he laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m not a rebel, in case you couldn’t tell. Not even remotely close to a revolutionary.”

Alex shrugged. “We’re all rebels in our own way, even if we can’t see it for ourselves.”

“Wow,” he said, leaning back. “That’s deep. Are you sure you aren’t a closet-Philosophy major?”

“That’s offensive. And yes, I’m sure.” After a moment, she smiled, and then they shared a moment of laughter.

Their coffees finished, they walked back toward their dorms together.

“So . . . Um, I know we just met and everything, but, um, do you have any plans this evening?” Mick asked her optimistically.

“Wow, your cheeks are red,” Alex said, rubbing it in. “No, I don’t actually.”

“Cool. Well, would you want to do something? With me?”

“Like what?”

“Hmm?”

“Aw come on, make it worth my time to say yes,” she teased. “What are we going to do?”

“Um . . . geez, the last date I went on was in high school and it involved karaoke in a jazz bar. Um, do you want to go out for dinner? Chinese maybe?”

“Not Italian?”

He snickered. “No, not Italian. Unless you like Italian, if it’s your favorite,” he retracted, hopeful.

“Chinese sounds fine. Meet you at Carlyle Courtyard at 7?” she suggested.

“Sounds perfect. Cool. Great,” he said, smiling, more to himself than to Alex.

“Well, this is me,” she said, pointing to her dorm.

“Okay then. See you tonight.” He was all smiles as he waved her off into her building.

Once inside the door, Alex giggled at how cute he was when he was awkward. And then the realization came back that she was failing miserably at holding him at bay. “So much for the tutor plan,” she growled at herself.

Soon enough, though, her work phone rang with a distraction.

“O’Connor speaking.”

“We’ve got a job for you, if you’re free tomorrow.”

“A job on Sunday? Is nothing sacred anymore,” she joked with Donny.

“You’re good for it, then?” he asked, a chuckle hiding in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be over to the restaurant in a bit.”

Hanging up, she walked right back out the door and headed for the subway.

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3) I'm willing to be on about 2-3 hours per week. If we all schedule a time to get online, I'll definitely be there. For the majority, I'll put in the time needed to comment on everything thoroughly, so long as it doesn't overshadow time needed for my writing or schoolwork.

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4) My absolute favorite flavor of ice cream is raspberry chocolate chip. If I can, I get it in a cup accompanied with a scoop of orange sherbet.