#capping at 3

[dreamlightmagicgarden]

I'm lowkey feeling Azula, but I have 2 things to reply on my drafts. Like for a small thing?

[dreamsofalife]

((Feck it, starter call?))

[thediego-hernandez]

Starter: Open (3/3) Closed

Where: providence peak university

"You want this?" Diego held up the folder, thick with papers. "Knock yourself out." He growled, tossing it in the opposite direction of the man's outreached hand, papers slipping out and scattering. "Next time you treat a young lady like that, and there is a 'problem' with her records when they were sitting in front of your face-- Take this folder right here and stick it up your ass. Twist it around a little and maybe you can get far enough to knock some sense into the sludge you call a brain." With that, Diego left, his scowl remained on his face as he stepped to the sidewalk, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "Maldito pendejo." Diego took a long drag, rubbing his brows, cigarette between his fingers. Why did he even bother with this shit? Oh, that's right-- Because he loved his little sister. And what did love get him? Needy university staff, his wallet, and every last brain cell he could spare. He adored his baby sister, but sometimes her 'non-confrontational' spirit really butted heads with his 'fuck around and find out' spirit.

Diego was shook from his thoughts as a voice sounded behind him, coming from the direction of the building. "You see that? Hear it? Good, maybe the more people who heard it the more he'll realize I wasn't fucking kidding." Diego muttered. He then looked over at the person and sighed, "I know, I know, not very 'charming, heroic firefighter' of me."

[wxywxrdaxther]

Starter Call

[charliemulgrave]

location: glace jewelry store, downtown 

status: open ( @providencepeakstarters )

Christmas shopping was the bane of Charlie’s existence. Though he was doing well enough for himself to be able to splash out on the people he loved, every year he found the himself confronted with the same problem—what to actually buy. His mom always assured him she didn’t need any presents, but he was pretty sure that was a lie and so he’d decided to duck into the store to browse. He came to a stop in front of a display of glittering necklaces, distracted from the task at hand. There was a pretty silver locket laid out on a bed of velvet that he thought Rachel might like, it was the kind of thing he would’ve bought her when they were together, but would buying it for her now be too weird? They were still figuring things out. He didn’t want to make things more awkward. Mulling the idea over in his head, turned to the person nearest him.

“Hey, what do you think it would be saying to someone if you bought it for them as a Christmas present?” he asked, pointing to the locket. “Y’know. Is it like... ‘hey, I saw this and thought it would look nice on you’ or more like ‘I am declaring my undying love for you, please take me back’?”

[comhnalls]

open to all (capping at 3) / @1642hqs-starters​

The unfamiliarity had been a hindrance in more ways than Comhnall had a penchant for. He wasn’t easily trusting — optimism did come easily to him (surprising to some perhaps) but he was a realist. The halls were different here, even the stone of said halls were different. The way they curved and expanded in certain areas was different. The air here was different, the wind much sharper in Scotland than France and the sun shone more than he had ever come to know back home; though that part he very much liked.  He wasn’t completely himself in places (and situations) he’d never known and the loss of control in the aforementioned made him tense in the worse of times and forgetful in the best. 

He rushed down the hall towards where he thought the feast that night was being held, only to nearly collide with an on-comer; “apologies,” a beat, “could you please point me in the direction of the feast? I’ve walked practically every hall there is, how do people ever find their way around here?”

[charliemulgrave]

location: bonfire bash

status: open

“Oh, I am gonna regret this so much in the morning.”

Charlie was waiting by the fire for Sophia to get back from... somewhere. Either the bathroom or getting more drinks, he couldn't quite remember—he'd been a bit distracted when she'd told him, busy balancing a drink in one hand and an absolutely ginormous bag of marshmallows in the other. The combination of sugar and alcohol was probably a bad idea, but he'd been slowly making his way through a plate of s'mores for the last half an hour, feeling the gentle buzz of the booze set in slowly, and he was enjoying himself immensely.

“Whoever invented these was a genius,” he pronounced, holding up one of the s’mores and turning to the person nearest him. “You want one?”

[warriorcourier]

He sits, drink in hand.

“So, you want to hear a story, eh?”