#makeitrainmoreno

[warriorveined-archive]

makeitrainmoreno replied to your post: apparently i’ve had my chrome zoomed in for a long...

These oocs have been great though A+ content

thank you for the support my friend

[zoerivxx-blog]

excuses and progress || Zoë & Imogen

@makeitrainmoreno

Zoë had continued going to the GSA every week. Not because she wanted to, but because she felt she had lost so much, and she couldn’t lose Tristan’s friendship on top of it all. So she showed up every week, more or less scowling through the meetings, hating every minute of it and Tristan’s continued attempts at getting her to accept that she was gay.

After a couple of weeks, it started to feel a little less suffocating. She didn’t really participate and she still insisted she was straight, but she started to feel a little more comfortable with the people themselves. So long as she had no reason to think anybody but Tristan suspected her of being gay, she was okay with it.

Then one week Tristan was home sick. And still texted her that she should go to the meeting. So she did, but she was quick to clarify to everyone, “Tristan is out sick today, so I’m gonna fill him in on what he missed here.” Still, she wasn’t as closed off anymore. Her chair wasn’t pulled back as far away from the rest of the group as possible, her arms weren’t crossed in front of her. It was fine for her to be here as an ally.

[thxgoodluthor-blog]

when it all falls apart || makeitrainmoreno

@makeitrainmoreno

At Degrassi, Lena had easily fallen into the popular crowd. Katie and Marisol weren’t people she would trust with her secrets -- not that she could say that of anyone, really -- but they actually seemed to want to spend time with her as a friend. Even if she suspected they wouldn’t give her the time of day if she hadn’t been rich, she would take it. Her mother was usually willing to give her money since apparent wealth reflected well upon the family, which meant that as long as the money was their reason for befriending her, they shouldn’t have reason to stop being her friends.

Until one day they were complaining about their science class and how difficult the material was. When Lena said it was really simple and began to explain, she had thought she was being helpful. Katie and Marisol, however, had thought she was bragging and a show-off.

They hadn’t been able to place it, but the Luthor name had been familiar to them, and Lena had been suspiciously quick to deny there could have been any reason for that. They had looked past it at the time, but now... they wanted to know.

Hundreds of headlines came up under the search term ‘Luthor.’ “7 dead, 12 injured in school shooting” “Luthor Massacre trial details”...

The next day at school, on her way in, Lena was greeted by a paper at her feet: a printout of a news article on her brother’s crimes. She felt sick as she picked it up, crumpling it and looked down the hall. As soon as she did, the people who had been there scattered, visibly afraid of her. She felt like she had been punched in the stomach.

It was like that all day. She heard whispers of her name -- her last name -- bits and pieces of conversation -- gun and killed and her, too. Halfway through the day she was called into Simpson’s office. He told her that she could always talk to him if anything was bothering her, and that the school had counselors. But she knew the truth. He wasn’t worried about her happiness because she had just lost everything... again. He was worried that she would snap just like her brother. She forced a smile and assured him she would be okay.

Those who sat next to her in classes scooted their desks or chairs as far away from her as possible. Those she had shared friendly conversations with looked at her with just as much fear in their eyes as everybody else. The teachers wouldn’t so much as look in her direction.

By the time she went to her last class, she felt utterly defeated. She was alone again. She was always going to be alone, and all because she was a Luthor. But she wasn’t. Her mother made it clear every day that she was a disappointment of a daughter, not worthy of the Luthor name. Lex had been the only one to be on her side, and now--...

She grabbed a textbook out of her bag and opened it to a random page, putting it on the desk in front of her and pretending to read. She crossed her arms tight, like a shield. Her nails dug painfully hard into her skin as she fought to keep the tears from forming. She wouldn’t cry; not in front of everybody.

[zoerivxx-blog]

denial || makeitrainmoreno

@makeitrainmoreno

Zoë couldn’t believe she had let herself be talked into this. But here she was, at one of Degrassi’s GSA meetings with Tristan. Her arms were crossed and she periodically shot Tristan a glare. She didn’t belong here. She was not gay. She wasn’t. Grace had just been... a confusion. A tiny lapse in her heterosexuality, borne of loneliness or something. Nothing more.

“I see we have a new member!” the faculty adviser said, seeing her obvious discomfort and trying to help her feel welcome. “Would you like to introduce yourself?”

Not really. She forced a smile, self-consciously smoothing down her dress over her legs. It made the more recent burns sting. Without really thinking about it, she repeated the motion, more pressure this time. Whatever, it would just look like a nervous habit. Besides, it wasn’t like anybody cared enough to notice anyway.

“Zoë Rivas, grade 11. I’m here as an ally. Because of my friend Tristan. So I’m an ally. A straight ally.”

[lilyrussoxo]

Power Struggle || Imolly J

Holly J’s heels clicked as she made her way to the auditorium, dropping her bag with a frustrated huff. She glanced up at the clock, one hour. She was giving Imogen one hour and then she was leaving. She was at a loss of why Simpson was forcing them to work together. How many events had she put together? And just because this grade 11 came up with the simple idea of a battle of bands she was forced to work with her for the next month. They had already spent the past few weeks butting heads about every last aspect and Holly J was exhausted by the constant bickering. She rubbed her temple feeling a migraine forming already. She wasn’t going to let this get to her, she had too many other important things to worry about and this stupid meeting with Imogen should be the least of her concerns. “58 minutes,” she muttered to herself as she glanced down at her phone sending a quick text to Anya.

@makeitrainmoreno

[jacqueline-jones]

A small band of hunters emerged from the trees, on guard. Jack knelt to the ground momentarily while the others looked on. “Yeah. Don’t match our prints, and they look recent enough,” she murmured to her companions, who nodded enthusiastically. “Bet we’re close,” said one. “SHHH!” added another, making the shushed one, Jack, and their other three companions suppress grins. “Okay, let’s move,” said their designated leader. “Two minutes in pairs, and we rendezvous as a unit. Good?” Jack nodded. “Good.”

It was almost a pity that they had splintered into such small groups, but it did mean they could cover a lot of ground. Jack drew her knife, and jogged westward with her partner to see what they could find. It looked like a whole lot of woods, and there was a good chance that the campers had at least considered bringing the flag here, which would be a good lead...

[winterfrostguardian]

Changes - Closed Rp

The city of Toronto was rather quiet today. It was mid-afternoon, but there weren’t many people out and about. Just one glance out the window explained why this was the case - ankle-deep snow covered the ground, and the light flakes that were currently falling from the sky only continued to add on to it. Not to mention the air was cold enough to cause frostbite within a few minutes of standing out there, so you really couldn’t blame anyone for staying inside today.

Even the woodland creatures had the same idea. They were all tucked away in their little holes, trying to keep warm. Not a single sound could be heard, except for the occasional laughter made by a certain winter spirit. Jack zipped past the tops of the trees on the outskirts of the city, the gust of wind shaking off all the loose snow from the branches. The wind tousled his white locks and a mischievous grin spread across his face. He placed his staff underneath his feet, gripping one end tightly before pulling up - doing a flip in midair.

He felt light as a feather; he had already finished with his work today, giving him the rest of the afternoon to do whatever he pleased. He figured he would spend it visiting a few of his believers, and he had one specific person in mind: Imogen. It had been forever since he had last seen her, and it was due time they hung out again.

It didn’t take long before he reached the familiar house and he flew up to the window, tapping on the glass with his staff. “Imogen?” He called out, hoping she was nearby to hear him.

@makeitrainmoreno