– * starters !

[emmaawoodss-blog]

her week home to london was everything she needed right now. to be reminded that there is a world outside the campus grounds and to be wrapped up in the arms of her parents couldn’t be described as anything short of perfect. emma felt inspired again – a stream of new ideas for her portfolio for her class taking up most of emma’s thoughts. 

one thing she remembered to bring back from london with her was a guitar her father gifted to emma for her sixteenth birthday. as soon as she had the time she naturally gravitated towards the music room ( the sound of her acoustic always sounded better there ) and hoped that she hadn’t lost her touch because it had been months since she last played. 

sitting down on a stool, tuning the guitar before finally taking a breath and began playing the chords to sia’s ‘elastic heart’ and finally, began singing the words. near the end of the song, the abrupt sound of the classroom door opening cut her off and she immediately stopped. “ uh, hi there. didn’t think anybody would be passing by this late. “

[shxgo]

the tinted light of the setting sun covered ashcroft university in an almost lilac shimmer, painting the buildings and those who passed calixte in a rather ironically beautiful shine considering the circumstances all of them had to deal with. he had been sitting quietly in his behaviour and loud as ever in the choice of his clothes, catching the last streaks of sunlight on his skin, and staring with trance-like concentration at his own lighter. his thumb ran repeatedly and  in a rapid movement across the flint wheel. there was a golden spark – there’s always a spark – but no flame. the suggestion of a defeated sigh heaved his chest and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, his gaze thus landing on of the other students. “ do you believe in fate? “ he asked, skipping the simplicity of normal chit-chatting, skipping even the formality of a ‘ hello ‘, “ in luck? or chance? however you want to call it — or is life a series of coincidences? “ 

[lauderholmes]

OPEN STARTER !

                     joshua ate alone. always. without fail. it wasn’t like he had FRIENDS to share a seat with, and the few people that he might have cared about, he actively pushed away. he preferred it this way –– he could mindlessly scroll through youtube, pick up some inspiration from new dance videos, eat at his own pace, and most importantly, not be disturbed. he liked his little situation. it was regular, familiar, and he could focus on himself. with apple in hand and a full plate of a bleak-looking salad, he sat at a table in the far corner of the dining hall, headphones blocking his ears from hearing anyone else in his vicinity. but his eyes still peered over his phone, noting someone passing by his claimed little area. “LEAVE. this seat’s fucking taken,” he lies, an aggression painting his words as he gestures to the space in front of him. he doesn’t want to be interrupted. 

[thefourteens]

chemistry. more like cleo’s second home. without a single doubt in mind, she ALWAYS headed for the classroom. even in her free periods, she was always found at her desk with some sort of practical experiment in her hands. today wasn’t any different. 

the blonde was dressed in her USUAL genre of attire; plaid skirts with a neatly iron shirt and a jumper thrown over the top but tucked into her skirt. whenever she was in the chemistry lab, her lab coat was draped over her and safety goggles were never far from her head or hands. gaze shifting between textbook and equipment with precision, she was sure this experiment was going to cause a bang OR bubble over. maybe she had finally perfected the case for her exam? 

a look of achievement spread across her visage, palms resting flat against the surface of the desk. attention diverted for a MERE few seconds then suddenly a bang followed with a few bubbles. uh oh, this was BAD. this wasn’t supposed to happen. with her shock, she fell from her stool to the floor but didn’t let it phase her. instead she hid behind the desk just in time of another explosion. 

it wasn’t deadly but safety always came first. 

[gevrgies-archive]

“pst…” she whispered, trying to get the other’s attention before tossing a crumpled up piece of paper at them from across the room. laying on her stomach on the couch in the lounge, she grinned, “i am bored, and you should help me. how about you and i cause a little trouble? or a lot of trouble. i’ll leave that part up to you,” she added as she sat up, shrugging her shoulders in a nonchalant fashion as her eyes focused on the other. with a raise of her brow, she continued, “you aren’t going to be a chicken are you?”

[euphcrix]

earbuds in both the blonde’s ears blared birthing videos. her blue eyes practically glued to the screen as she was utterly mortified at what she saw. suddenly her doubts for being an obgyn was creeping up her nerves. damn her mother for wanting so much out of her. in all honesty she’d be happy with just a normal job. unlike her mother money wasn’t everything to her. plus, the things the professors assigned sometimes made her doubt her major. suddenly her attention was averted when her shoulder collided with another. knocking her phone straight out of her hands. It landed a few feet away as she gasped turning to whom she ran into. “i am so so sorry. i was not paying attention, and i,” she stumbled over words as she got herself together. “are you ok?”

[tcstarters]

acewolsey‌:

fire had always been somewhat of a relaxer for ace – ironic that the symbol of destruction was a calming source for him.  he was currently sat on the ground with his back up against the tree, a crispy, dead leaf held gingerly in his hand as he held a lighter under it.  he watched as the fire spread throughout the leaf – devouring the leaf quickly.  he let the heat hit his fingers that held the stem before he dropped it to the ground, watching as the fire dwindled out from added moisture from the fresh grass.  after the fire was put out, ace looked over at his new pile of leaves, barely noticing that a person had appeared in front of him at some point during the duration of the burning leaf.  he jumped in his spot – would have scooted back, but his back hit the tree he was leaning against. “What the hell?  Don’t sneak up on someone like that.” he scolded the other – truth be told, they could’ve been loud as hell but fire had always drawn the attention of ace over anything else that might’ve been happening.

[tcstarters]

stoptalkingluca‌:

3am. it’s not that bad. right? most nights it was 4 or 5am– practically morning. usually, he’d have someone here with him– quentin. but he’s gone. he’s been gone for a while. it was an oddly foggy night for a summer night. but luca quite enjoyed it. it reminded him of the weather at home in the mornings at least. hearing the snap of a branch behind him he didn’t move, he didn’t flinch, he stared at the blank wall with graffiti on it. “did you know turtles can breathe through their butts?” he asked to whoever was sneaking up behind him and laughed a bit. was he that bad that he would laugh at his own facts? yes. yes he was. looking a bit defeated he slumped his back against the graffitied wall and looked at the other before sliding down his own butt to the ground and sat down on the rocky pavement letting his head rest against the wall. “shouldn’t you be getting your beauty sleep, or whatever?”

[ivymcyers]

          ivy had been parked on a bench for about two hours now. her dixon D3400 camera affixed to her hands, she’d been trying to capture something worth using. the writer’s block was in full force; so it was time for her tried and true method of finding inspiration from her surroundings. people watching was a great way to do that. sometimes, she’d be intrigued by one person in particular passing by; then she’d raise the camera to her eyes, and snap a picture. she would never USE that film without consent, of course, it was just something for her to look back on for inspiration. like when an unreasonably tall man walked by, ivy found herself absentmindedly taking a picture. when she put the camera down, she realized that somebody had approached the bench at the wrong time, and might have just seen her suspicious looking photo-taking. ❛❛ i’m not a stalker. ❜❜ she said quickly, NERVOUSLY — just like a stalker would? ❛❛ oh, god, that probably makes me sound even more like a stalker. but — i’m not! ❜❜

[tcstarters]

( ✉ → sms )

OPHELIA: please remind me to NEVER attend a house party again

OPHELIA: i got here, was handed a beer within 20 seconds and there was fog everywhere for some reason

OPHELIA: now i'm wearing some guy's sombrero cause apparently it's "silly hat night"

[tcstarters]

svintcyrrie‌:

          ❝ Oh fuck me. ❞ Bitter words echo from a bitter mouth , the young man hunched over a few tarot cards upon the table. He’s choosing to sit on the cushioned couch with his legs crossed , shoes discarded to the floor , and his chin resting in his hands as he takes a look at the display in front of him. All seems … normal until he’s flipped over the card of Ten of Swords , not sure if the IRONY of the situation is what annoys him or if it’s the increased feeling of doom now pervading the air around him. He puts his face into his hands and shakes his hand with a frustrated SQUEAL and then looks back up with a deep breath. ❝ You gotta be fuckin’ with me , c’mon. I can’t - the fuck - ❞ He’s trying to find the words to mutter to himself as he thinks about how fitting it is - the knife being a quite obvious mirror to the card , along with the possibility the murder could be in tune with what the card represents : CRISIS , BETRAYAL , PAINFUL ENDINGS. A smack in the face to he who pulled it - or to he who no longer walks Ashcroft’s floors. He doesn’t even notice others around him as he breathes , ❝ Swear to fucking God … ❞ And then , in frustration , he takes the card and CHUCKS it across the room , putting his face back into his hands. Yes , he’s exhausted.   

[elizcvclencic]

the door to her room was wide open, she needed the fresh air to come into her room and it wasn’t like she was undressed or her room was messy, so at this point, she didn’t care. she just wanted coffee. if she could even manage one cup that would ultimately make her day so much better. but something was just off about how she moved this morning, the lack off sleep mixed with a vicious hangover left her less aware and fatigued. 

the half asleep, squinting eliza was no more after she missed her cup and instead poured the hot coffee directly onto her hand instead of the mug in it. “motherfucker-!” she yelped immediately, eyes watering from pain. as an instinct, she let go of everything and hindsight she really shouldn’t have. as soon as it hit the floor there was coffee, glass, and ceramic everywhere, the sound alone causing her to wince. 

she was frozen in place not really able to move without stepping in something. when she heard a knock at her door, eliza turned around and gave them a sheepish grin. of course someone was here, this was the perfect visualization of how her life was going right about now. “it’s not as bad as it looks?”

[oizysprotege-deactivated2019101]

a distant expression — like troubled water — crossed the detective’s visage, the mark of a girl questioning her footing upon the earth, unsure whether her bare feet upon the ground was trespassing upon a world never meant for her. should she lean into her innate talent, her blessing and her scourge, to vanish from beneath judgemental eyes that named her violence without knowing her, at all ? ( not that she would permit them to know her. how could they, when mallory brennan did not truly know herself? ) life at ashcroft raises a thought of a quote, of everyone now the masquerade masks are crumpled and discarded — some of them trampled into the dance floor and left there — OUR TEETH AND AMBITIONS BARED. 

the society members, whose circumstances leave them more than a modicum above the rest; many of whom, to mallory’s glittering hazel irises, believe they are angels when they aren’t. when they could NEVER be entitled to some elysian privilege. people like the murdered boy she’d loathed, barely able to recognise envy. perhaps she believes she pities him, pities them all sometimes for their lack of normalcy. 

to not know how it feels not to breathe through a silver spoon, or have it shoved down their throat. “i’m just CURIOUS,” the true crime aficionado admits — shoulders rising and falling in a shrug tinged with nonchalance — “a KNIFE ? someone had to leave it there, and we essentially left out a doormat. a masquerade? really? we’re surprised we offered an event with literal anonymity and there’s a threat… i know we pander to snobs ‘round here ‘cause they give the university all its fucking money, so they could LITERALLY GET AWAY WITH MURDER, but a masquerade is opening our arms and saying ‘what’re you gonna do, stab me ? ’ famous last words of man stabbed. ‘don’t look for answers you don’t want to find.’ well, what if we decide we DO want to find them ? ” (she does.)

[westrupm-blog]

“uh-huh.” it’s firm, yet calm. she blows out a cloud of smoke, disposes of it with a wave of the hand and leans back against the wall. the joint rests nonchalantly between her fingers. “so, not only is there a whole fucking person missing, but they’re now also finding bloodied knives, just lying around?” she watches the other from behind orange shades, but doesn’t seem to be talking to anyone in particular. “sorry my dudes, but how are we not on a fucking lockdown already?” 

[higgiins]

zephyr looked like a disaster.  he knew.  did he regret what he did? no. but this was one of the few times that he didn’t appreciate the stares – because he didn’t want to explain why he got the bruises perched on his face.  he was sat outside one of his classes, waiting for the class before his to be released to he could go to his seat.  out of the corner of his eye, he watched feet approach him as he stared blankly down at his phone.  he wasn’t fooling anyone – the screen was still dark. 

“yes, i’m okay, and i’d rather you didn’t ask, ‘what happened.’“ he said bluntly, finally looking up at the other.  his black eye had gone down to the point where the swelling was gone, but the black and blue ring still sat prominently around his eye socket.  the bruise from pierce was also present, the rest of the bruises lay hidden under his shirt.

[viclinists]

open starter.

– IT’S ONE DAY LATER. it’s one day after the masquerade and she’s having that dream again. it’s the same as it always is, only this time, the killer is in a mask, and she’s still running as fast as she can. in these dreams, she’s always running, and she wakes up in her bed in a cold sweat, panting. 

this time, she doesn’t wake up in her bed. 

she wakes up just outside the east wing, and for a moment, her nightmare seems real and she can’t stop herself from screaming because for a moment, she’s certain that she’s going to be killed, that this is it, and that these are her very last breaths. and then she catches it – it’s that nightmare again, and it takes a moment to calm herself down, catch her breath, and remind herself that everything’s fine. clad in only her underwear and t-shirt with dark circles under her eyes, no one would believe that this was a nighttime stroll. so, when she hears the footsteps of someone who probably heard her yell, she knows that there’s no point in lying entirely. 

“sorry, i was just – sleepwalking,” she mutters, “i’m fine, i’m leaving.” 

[viclinists]

open starter.

– ALL ODETTE NEEDS IS A BREATHER. a short break from everything and she’ll be fine, she can go back out there swinging. the summer air will whip her dress and hair about on the balcony, and she knows her mother will say something if she comes back in looking disheveled, but she thinks it’s worth it if she can have a moment away from everyone. she opens the door, and walks out onto the terrace, pausing once she’s in view of the night. “oh, sorry,” her words run together in alarm, “i didn’t think anyone was out here.”