The chatbox has been hidden for this page. It will reopen upon refresh. To hide the CBox permanently, select "Permanently Toggle Cbox" in your profile User Settings.
This chatbox is hidden. To reopen, edit your User Settings.
"Put it in the fridge out back. That's where all the beer is going." She directed to the delivery truck
Selene was the perfect vice-president for the chapter of TriDelta, and she was extremely proud of the accomplishment. She had been groomed for this, had been preparing for this sort of position her whole life. Now, preparing for the first party of the year, she was in her element. She had been planning the first real fundraiser of the school year as soon as she had been given her new office. The girls were all working hard, each of their rooms decorated in a different carnival game, run by each of the girls. As long as the door was open, each of the girls was required to man their stations. Tickets were purchased at the door for the silly games each girl had designed. The prizes were ridiculous, but the Start of School party thrown by TriDelta was not one to miss.
Someone had set up a dunk tank in the back, along with similar childish games that were meant to help release tension after the first month of classes. Each of the girls was pretty proud of their rooms, and each room had been signed off on by Selene. Hell, she even signed off on the kissing booth, with the senior Linebacker Diom offering to stand as bodyguard to make sure no one went overboard in that room. Balloons had been hung from the banisters, A bounce house was set up outside, even though that had been one of the things she'd wished had been left out of the planning. The party was a fundraiser, and most students didn't mind forking over cash that would end up going to St. Jude's.
Food trucks were parked out front, with smaller carts positioned all around the backyard with cotton candy, hot dogs, funnel cakes and more. She was well aware that this party had the potential to get crazy, but that was half of the reason people showed up-- they wanted to be a part of the madness. The large chapter house, once inside, looked like an upscale fair. And she was moving around, double checking each room, making sure that vendors were paid and tables were set up. It was good that the house was so large because they had yet to get the fire marshal called on them for overpacking the house.
By the time that people started showing up, she was channeling P.T. Barnum from The Greatest Show, her ringmaster's dress and top hat utterly fitting for the night. People started filling the room, buying tickets, playing games. As the rooms began to become more and more packed, the music got louder and louder. She was moving around the house, deciding to check in on her Little the room she had so proudly set up. "Everything alright Euphie?" She asked, squeezing past the line that had formed. "Finish up and come down!" She could close the door, shutting down her game to come enjoy the party herself. "It's starting to get crazy and I'm pretty sure half the soccer team just arrived."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
"Put it in the fridge out back. That's where all the beer is going." She directed to the delivery truck
Selene was the perfect vice-president for the chapter of TriDelta, and she was extremely proud of the accomplishment. She had been groomed for this, had been preparing for this sort of position her whole life. Now, preparing for the first party of the year, she was in her element. She had been planning the first real fundraiser of the school year as soon as she had been given her new office. The girls were all working hard, each of their rooms decorated in a different carnival game, run by each of the girls. As long as the door was open, each of the girls was required to man their stations. Tickets were purchased at the door for the silly games each girl had designed. The prizes were ridiculous, but the Start of School party thrown by TriDelta was not one to miss.
Someone had set up a dunk tank in the back, along with similar childish games that were meant to help release tension after the first month of classes. Each of the girls was pretty proud of their rooms, and each room had been signed off on by Selene. Hell, she even signed off on the kissing booth, with the senior Linebacker Diom offering to stand as bodyguard to make sure no one went overboard in that room. Balloons had been hung from the banisters, A bounce house was set up outside, even though that had been one of the things she'd wished had been left out of the planning. The party was a fundraiser, and most students didn't mind forking over cash that would end up going to St. Jude's.
Food trucks were parked out front, with smaller carts positioned all around the backyard with cotton candy, hot dogs, funnel cakes and more. She was well aware that this party had the potential to get crazy, but that was half of the reason people showed up-- they wanted to be a part of the madness. The large chapter house, once inside, looked like an upscale fair. And she was moving around, double checking each room, making sure that vendors were paid and tables were set up. It was good that the house was so large because they had yet to get the fire marshal called on them for overpacking the house.
By the time that people started showing up, she was channeling P.T. Barnum from The Greatest Show, her ringmaster's dress and top hat utterly fitting for the night. People started filling the room, buying tickets, playing games. As the rooms began to become more and more packed, the music got louder and louder. She was moving around the house, deciding to check in on her Little the room she had so proudly set up. "Everything alright Euphie?" She asked, squeezing past the line that had formed. "Finish up and come down!" She could close the door, shutting down her game to come enjoy the party herself. "It's starting to get crazy and I'm pretty sure half the soccer team just arrived."
"Put it in the fridge out back. That's where all the beer is going." She directed to the delivery truck
Selene was the perfect vice-president for the chapter of TriDelta, and she was extremely proud of the accomplishment. She had been groomed for this, had been preparing for this sort of position her whole life. Now, preparing for the first party of the year, she was in her element. She had been planning the first real fundraiser of the school year as soon as she had been given her new office. The girls were all working hard, each of their rooms decorated in a different carnival game, run by each of the girls. As long as the door was open, each of the girls was required to man their stations. Tickets were purchased at the door for the silly games each girl had designed. The prizes were ridiculous, but the Start of School party thrown by TriDelta was not one to miss.
Someone had set up a dunk tank in the back, along with similar childish games that were meant to help release tension after the first month of classes. Each of the girls was pretty proud of their rooms, and each room had been signed off on by Selene. Hell, she even signed off on the kissing booth, with the senior Linebacker Diom offering to stand as bodyguard to make sure no one went overboard in that room. Balloons had been hung from the banisters, A bounce house was set up outside, even though that had been one of the things she'd wished had been left out of the planning. The party was a fundraiser, and most students didn't mind forking over cash that would end up going to St. Jude's.
Food trucks were parked out front, with smaller carts positioned all around the backyard with cotton candy, hot dogs, funnel cakes and more. She was well aware that this party had the potential to get crazy, but that was half of the reason people showed up-- they wanted to be a part of the madness. The large chapter house, once inside, looked like an upscale fair. And she was moving around, double checking each room, making sure that vendors were paid and tables were set up. It was good that the house was so large because they had yet to get the fire marshal called on them for overpacking the house.
By the time that people started showing up, she was channeling P.T. Barnum from The Greatest Show, her ringmaster's dress and top hat utterly fitting for the night. People started filling the room, buying tickets, playing games. As the rooms began to become more and more packed, the music got louder and louder. She was moving around the house, deciding to check in on her Little the room she had so proudly set up. "Everything alright Euphie?" She asked, squeezing past the line that had formed. "Finish up and come down!" She could close the door, shutting down her game to come enjoy the party herself. "It's starting to get crazy and I'm pretty sure half the soccer team just arrived."
As a freshmen in college, most would think that they would have a hard time fitting in. And while Emilia had been anxious, she was quick to find out that it was to not much avail - apparently, people flocked to her once they found out about her parentage. As the youngest of two daughters of world-famous billionaire and owner of the Midas Hotel and Spa Resorts line, her status as a heiress and a gorgeous one to boot, it took little for people to want to be her friends.
Admittedly, most of them probably had ulterior motives when it came to reaching out to be her friend. Her elder sisters (of which she had three) had warned her very seriously about who she accepted into her private circle. Emilia has been known to be air-headed sometimes, and that largely came from her inborn nature to be kind to people, a surprising trait despite her upbringing. While she enjoyed the finery and cash that her father's business brought her, Emilia had a great amount of empathy as part of her personality.
So with many cautionary words from her only two living members of her small family, Emilia had started her life in her new college - and the first week of school had been interesting indeed. She had instantly joined the cheerleading team, a natural choice for her since she has been in gymnastics at a young age, and enjoyed the exertion the sport provided. With her classically gorgeous looks, tanned skin and cheerful personality, Emilia was quick to be inducted in their ranks, and subsequently decided (before Emilia even knew) that she was to attend the Start of School party that TriDelta was throwing.
Picked up by Evras, the senior of the cheerleading team, Emilia was cladded in a pair of black denim shorts, paired off with a rose gold off shoulder top that accentuated her tanned skin and defined shoulders. If she reached up and stretched, the top was short enough to let her flat tummy peek through, but otherwise remained covered. Slipping her feet into her macrame weaved white and brown gladiator sandals, she ran out to her newfound friends, and it wasn't too long before she found herself in the swing of the party.
Laughing as they got themselves tickets, the girl was quick to purchase tickets for the booths, and found herself blushing when her elder friends from the cheerleading squad started pushing her towards the kissing booth. At eighteen, she was not the most experienced in the nuances of relationships - she had a very overprotective father and elder siblings, as she was the youngest of four. But you can't say she wasn't curious, that was for sure.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
As a freshmen in college, most would think that they would have a hard time fitting in. And while Emilia had been anxious, she was quick to find out that it was to not much avail - apparently, people flocked to her once they found out about her parentage. As the youngest of two daughters of world-famous billionaire and owner of the Midas Hotel and Spa Resorts line, her status as a heiress and a gorgeous one to boot, it took little for people to want to be her friends.
Admittedly, most of them probably had ulterior motives when it came to reaching out to be her friend. Her elder sisters (of which she had three) had warned her very seriously about who she accepted into her private circle. Emilia has been known to be air-headed sometimes, and that largely came from her inborn nature to be kind to people, a surprising trait despite her upbringing. While she enjoyed the finery and cash that her father's business brought her, Emilia had a great amount of empathy as part of her personality.
So with many cautionary words from her only two living members of her small family, Emilia had started her life in her new college - and the first week of school had been interesting indeed. She had instantly joined the cheerleading team, a natural choice for her since she has been in gymnastics at a young age, and enjoyed the exertion the sport provided. With her classically gorgeous looks, tanned skin and cheerful personality, Emilia was quick to be inducted in their ranks, and subsequently decided (before Emilia even knew) that she was to attend the Start of School party that TriDelta was throwing.
Picked up by Evras, the senior of the cheerleading team, Emilia was cladded in a pair of black denim shorts, paired off with a rose gold off shoulder top that accentuated her tanned skin and defined shoulders. If she reached up and stretched, the top was short enough to let her flat tummy peek through, but otherwise remained covered. Slipping her feet into her macrame weaved white and brown gladiator sandals, she ran out to her newfound friends, and it wasn't too long before she found herself in the swing of the party.
Laughing as they got themselves tickets, the girl was quick to purchase tickets for the booths, and found herself blushing when her elder friends from the cheerleading squad started pushing her towards the kissing booth. At eighteen, she was not the most experienced in the nuances of relationships - she had a very overprotective father and elder siblings, as she was the youngest of four. But you can't say she wasn't curious, that was for sure.
As a freshmen in college, most would think that they would have a hard time fitting in. And while Emilia had been anxious, she was quick to find out that it was to not much avail - apparently, people flocked to her once they found out about her parentage. As the youngest of two daughters of world-famous billionaire and owner of the Midas Hotel and Spa Resorts line, her status as a heiress and a gorgeous one to boot, it took little for people to want to be her friends.
Admittedly, most of them probably had ulterior motives when it came to reaching out to be her friend. Her elder sisters (of which she had three) had warned her very seriously about who she accepted into her private circle. Emilia has been known to be air-headed sometimes, and that largely came from her inborn nature to be kind to people, a surprising trait despite her upbringing. While she enjoyed the finery and cash that her father's business brought her, Emilia had a great amount of empathy as part of her personality.
So with many cautionary words from her only two living members of her small family, Emilia had started her life in her new college - and the first week of school had been interesting indeed. She had instantly joined the cheerleading team, a natural choice for her since she has been in gymnastics at a young age, and enjoyed the exertion the sport provided. With her classically gorgeous looks, tanned skin and cheerful personality, Emilia was quick to be inducted in their ranks, and subsequently decided (before Emilia even knew) that she was to attend the Start of School party that TriDelta was throwing.
Picked up by Evras, the senior of the cheerleading team, Emilia was cladded in a pair of black denim shorts, paired off with a rose gold off shoulder top that accentuated her tanned skin and defined shoulders. If she reached up and stretched, the top was short enough to let her flat tummy peek through, but otherwise remained covered. Slipping her feet into her macrame weaved white and brown gladiator sandals, she ran out to her newfound friends, and it wasn't too long before she found herself in the swing of the party.
Laughing as they got themselves tickets, the girl was quick to purchase tickets for the booths, and found herself blushing when her elder friends from the cheerleading squad started pushing her towards the kissing booth. At eighteen, she was not the most experienced in the nuances of relationships - she had a very overprotective father and elder siblings, as she was the youngest of four. But you can't say she wasn't curious, that was for sure.
Being a newly inducted TriDelt meant she got the bottom of the barrel when it came to the game for her room, but Euphemia was determined to make sure that it was one of the best rooms in the entire place. Her room was filled with more patterns than it had been when her and her roommate both showed up with bold comforters and throw pillows, because Twister mats were taped all over the room’s four walls and floor, as well as draped over any flat surface and secured with both double sided tape and safety pins. Each circle had been coated in paint so that, when the LED lights went off and the black light came on, they glowed.
It may not have been as fun as some of the other girls’ rooms, but both her and her roommate Brittany had racked up quite the amount of tickets. Euphemia liked to believe it was because Twister was a super fun game, and they had added quite the twist to it, but more likely than not, it was because Brittany was quite a bombshell- Even the blonde couldn’t deny that. Nevertheless, she intentionally remained in the room as well, cheering people on and encouraging those walking through the halls to join in. The white stripes of her rolled long sleeved shirt glowed under the light, and her bright pink skirt did the same. All of her accessories did as well, from the fake pearls around her neck to the nude heels on her feet; it had been well planned.
Despite the game taking up literally all of the room’s available space, a line formed outside their door after awhile. Even with a less wanted game, it seemed as if they had made quite the decent lemonade from lemons at the bottom of the whiteboard of ideas. The freshman was collecting tickets and slipping them into the cute wicker basket her and her roommate had worked hard on decorating for the fundraiser with a trifold including St. Jude’s logo, colors, and a few pictures and other printouts from their website sitting behind it. Sure, this was going to end up being what Euphemia hoped was a wild, rowdy college party, but it still had a good cause behind it- Besides seeing the cute frat boys, that is.
Just as she was funneling people in and out, her big sister walked in. Grinning wide, teeth brushed with a whitening toothpaste glowing under the UV light, she nodded overly in the dim room. “Everything’s great, Sel!” she shouted back over the general noise of people playing the game. When she mentioned finishing up, the girl tilted her head. “Finish up?” she called back, but her question was lost among people pushing back out of the room to move on to the next one. Her sister instead responded with something that easily got Euphemia to abandon her station: Soccer players.
Squealing, she grabbed Selene’s hand and moved to walk out into the hallway. Keeping her grip tight so as to not lose her fellow TriDelt and blonde, Euphemia moved to head back downstairs into the main living spaces, praying to any higher being listening that their path would cross with that of the soccer players’.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Being a newly inducted TriDelt meant she got the bottom of the barrel when it came to the game for her room, but Euphemia was determined to make sure that it was one of the best rooms in the entire place. Her room was filled with more patterns than it had been when her and her roommate both showed up with bold comforters and throw pillows, because Twister mats were taped all over the room’s four walls and floor, as well as draped over any flat surface and secured with both double sided tape and safety pins. Each circle had been coated in paint so that, when the LED lights went off and the black light came on, they glowed.
It may not have been as fun as some of the other girls’ rooms, but both her and her roommate Brittany had racked up quite the amount of tickets. Euphemia liked to believe it was because Twister was a super fun game, and they had added quite the twist to it, but more likely than not, it was because Brittany was quite a bombshell- Even the blonde couldn’t deny that. Nevertheless, she intentionally remained in the room as well, cheering people on and encouraging those walking through the halls to join in. The white stripes of her rolled long sleeved shirt glowed under the light, and her bright pink skirt did the same. All of her accessories did as well, from the fake pearls around her neck to the nude heels on her feet; it had been well planned.
Despite the game taking up literally all of the room’s available space, a line formed outside their door after awhile. Even with a less wanted game, it seemed as if they had made quite the decent lemonade from lemons at the bottom of the whiteboard of ideas. The freshman was collecting tickets and slipping them into the cute wicker basket her and her roommate had worked hard on decorating for the fundraiser with a trifold including St. Jude’s logo, colors, and a few pictures and other printouts from their website sitting behind it. Sure, this was going to end up being what Euphemia hoped was a wild, rowdy college party, but it still had a good cause behind it- Besides seeing the cute frat boys, that is.
Just as she was funneling people in and out, her big sister walked in. Grinning wide, teeth brushed with a whitening toothpaste glowing under the UV light, she nodded overly in the dim room. “Everything’s great, Sel!” she shouted back over the general noise of people playing the game. When she mentioned finishing up, the girl tilted her head. “Finish up?” she called back, but her question was lost among people pushing back out of the room to move on to the next one. Her sister instead responded with something that easily got Euphemia to abandon her station: Soccer players.
Squealing, she grabbed Selene’s hand and moved to walk out into the hallway. Keeping her grip tight so as to not lose her fellow TriDelt and blonde, Euphemia moved to head back downstairs into the main living spaces, praying to any higher being listening that their path would cross with that of the soccer players’.
Being a newly inducted TriDelt meant she got the bottom of the barrel when it came to the game for her room, but Euphemia was determined to make sure that it was one of the best rooms in the entire place. Her room was filled with more patterns than it had been when her and her roommate both showed up with bold comforters and throw pillows, because Twister mats were taped all over the room’s four walls and floor, as well as draped over any flat surface and secured with both double sided tape and safety pins. Each circle had been coated in paint so that, when the LED lights went off and the black light came on, they glowed.
It may not have been as fun as some of the other girls’ rooms, but both her and her roommate Brittany had racked up quite the amount of tickets. Euphemia liked to believe it was because Twister was a super fun game, and they had added quite the twist to it, but more likely than not, it was because Brittany was quite a bombshell- Even the blonde couldn’t deny that. Nevertheless, she intentionally remained in the room as well, cheering people on and encouraging those walking through the halls to join in. The white stripes of her rolled long sleeved shirt glowed under the light, and her bright pink skirt did the same. All of her accessories did as well, from the fake pearls around her neck to the nude heels on her feet; it had been well planned.
Despite the game taking up literally all of the room’s available space, a line formed outside their door after awhile. Even with a less wanted game, it seemed as if they had made quite the decent lemonade from lemons at the bottom of the whiteboard of ideas. The freshman was collecting tickets and slipping them into the cute wicker basket her and her roommate had worked hard on decorating for the fundraiser with a trifold including St. Jude’s logo, colors, and a few pictures and other printouts from their website sitting behind it. Sure, this was going to end up being what Euphemia hoped was a wild, rowdy college party, but it still had a good cause behind it- Besides seeing the cute frat boys, that is.
Just as she was funneling people in and out, her big sister walked in. Grinning wide, teeth brushed with a whitening toothpaste glowing under the UV light, she nodded overly in the dim room. “Everything’s great, Sel!” she shouted back over the general noise of people playing the game. When she mentioned finishing up, the girl tilted her head. “Finish up?” she called back, but her question was lost among people pushing back out of the room to move on to the next one. Her sister instead responded with something that easily got Euphemia to abandon her station: Soccer players.
Squealing, she grabbed Selene’s hand and moved to walk out into the hallway. Keeping her grip tight so as to not lose her fellow TriDelt and blonde, Euphemia moved to head back downstairs into the main living spaces, praying to any higher being listening that their path would cross with that of the soccer players’.
Persephone had absolutely no interested in TriDelt's social calendar. In fact, she had had no interest in being a TriDelt. Or part of a sorority for that matter. But she was a legacy. Her mother and her mother's mother and back and back until basically it was a far-gone conclusion that she would be a part of the house. And given that she had needed somewhere to live while she was studying, she had given up with arguing. The house was at least close to campus and now her father didn't complain that she didn't go out enough - because she had a ton of "girlfriends" living right there with her.
It didn't seem to matter to the head of the TriDelt's that Persephone had deliberately been as boring as she could in her induction "test" to the group, or that her mother had "slummed it" by marrying a working man below her old-money status. They were just delighted to have a legacy in their intake that year.
Three years later and Persephone was the quite nerd of the TriDelt's house. The fact that she was tanned, slim and had long dark, shiny hair - and was basically the carbon copy of her beautiful Latino mother - meant that she at least looked the part of a TriDelt sorority girl. But beneath the surface, Persephone was the one who kept to herself and tried to avoid events such as... this.
Not that she had a problem with fundraisers. Heck, given that she was at the university on scholarship for academic achievement she was all about the giving back. Her father, Minas ran a gym on the outskirts of town. Full of burly, testosterone-driven he-men and mixed martial artists, her twin brother Vangelis had fit right into the role of taking on the family business and now worked alongside their father. Or rather, worked the company for him given that Minas' drinking had become more severe these days... Persephone on the other hand was the shining hope of the family, destined to be the first (of her father's side of the family at least) to go to college.
The idea of her as a sorority girl was clearly a dream come true for her aunts but never for herself.
And nights like this reminded her why.
All day the girls had been dialled up to 11. Running and shouting with banners and paint and confetti and sheets of fabric and masks and costumes and just about everything one would need to create an indoor carnival of crazy. While Persephone had tried to stay mostly out of it and work on her paper for International Politics (everyone else was done with their work but scholarship students took every chance they could get at extra credit) the bangs and clangs and squeals had been too much of a distraction.
And the worst distraction of all?
When Selene, their effervescent (and admittedly nice) ringleader of chaos, had come storming into each and every room of the house and insisted that all TriDelt girls were to participate in the Kissing Booth room.
The demand had sent a bolt of cold terror through Persephone and she had gaped like a fish as the blonde had sprinted away, calling out to whomever it was who had stolen her hat.
It was an embarrassment to admit for a girl of 21... but Persephone had never kissed a guy before. Okay, that sounded lame. But it was easy to understand why. During high school she had been a slave to the acne gods, had worn glasses before she had discovered contacts and had more metal work in her mouth than a horror movie star. By the time she was free of such trappings and had morphed from duckling to swan, her brother was a local mixed martial arts champion who scared the shit out of anyone who went even a step into the personal space of his sister.
And since joining the university, away from his role as shadow-protector, Persephone had so far managed to be back home for most of the TriDelt events and, for the rest of the year, had her nose buried in a book and desperate to maintain her 4.0 average. Parties just weren't her thing. Along with socialising. And boys.
In a fit of panic that she was now entirely regretting for being truly an act of cowardice, Persephone had texted her brother a twin-SOS - basically a message that said, you shared a womb with me, so you can't refuse this - and expected him to show up within the hour. Until then, she had thirty minutes to make herself presentable and then another thirty minutes of party before her brother would be there to lean on.
Thirty minutes later and Persephone was another 500 words into her paper and had done nothing with her hair.
Standing in front of a mirror, Persephone couldn't help but be simultaneously critic and stubborn. She was dressed in exactly what she would wear on a normal day. Her slim body and pert breasts were clad in a bright, turquoise t-shirt with cap sleeves and low, rounded neck. On her legs she wore standard bootleg jeans in a soft, light shade. A white belt was posted through the loops though she had no need to hold up the garment on her miniscule hips and matched the thick soled stark white sneakers she wore on her feet, poking out the bottom of the bootleg cut. Her dark hair was brushed and worn down, swinging smoothly down to the small of her back and she wore minimal make-up. Though at least the genes she had inherited from her mother meant that she didn't need a lot.
As always, she wore her late mother's engagement ring on the ring finger of her right hand. This, she corrected and locked the piece of jewellery away in her private little box with her journal, in the back of her closet, so that it wouldn't be lost in the chaos.
She then assessed herself again in the mirror.
Stupidly bland but defiantly so. She didn't want this party. Why should she dress up for it? Even if she had been the brainiac the girls had gone to to send out mass invites to the whole campus via social media and email. Sighing through her nose, Persephone gave up with the critique. It was impossible to judge herself too harshly, at least, when she was assessing her appearance, standing in the middle of the make-out boudoir her own room had drawn in the games lot. Some called it the cushion room - apparently the idea was something like the bouncy castle outside - but they all knew what it would be used for by the end of the night.
Ew.
Leaving her laptop locked away and desperately trying to walk out of her room, over cushions and throws that tried to swallow her feet, Persephone finally reached the door of her bedroom and opened it onto the madness.
Noise was everywhere - girls she knew, a lot of people she didn't - and an insane amount of talking, laughing and squealing. Music pounded through the walls and as Persephone headed towards the main stairwell of the house - her roommate Melanie was handling the ticket booth for the first half of the night - Persephone looked down to see Selene, with her top hat and cane, welcoming and directing the guests like a ringmaster. Totally in her element.
Smiling at the ridiculousness of the site, Persephone leaned forward, her forearms on the banister and her feet stacked one on top of the other, watching the main entry hall and hoping to God her brother came through those doors sooner rather than later.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Persephone had absolutely no interested in TriDelt's social calendar. In fact, she had had no interest in being a TriDelt. Or part of a sorority for that matter. But she was a legacy. Her mother and her mother's mother and back and back until basically it was a far-gone conclusion that she would be a part of the house. And given that she had needed somewhere to live while she was studying, she had given up with arguing. The house was at least close to campus and now her father didn't complain that she didn't go out enough - because she had a ton of "girlfriends" living right there with her.
It didn't seem to matter to the head of the TriDelt's that Persephone had deliberately been as boring as she could in her induction "test" to the group, or that her mother had "slummed it" by marrying a working man below her old-money status. They were just delighted to have a legacy in their intake that year.
Three years later and Persephone was the quite nerd of the TriDelt's house. The fact that she was tanned, slim and had long dark, shiny hair - and was basically the carbon copy of her beautiful Latino mother - meant that she at least looked the part of a TriDelt sorority girl. But beneath the surface, Persephone was the one who kept to herself and tried to avoid events such as... this.
Not that she had a problem with fundraisers. Heck, given that she was at the university on scholarship for academic achievement she was all about the giving back. Her father, Minas ran a gym on the outskirts of town. Full of burly, testosterone-driven he-men and mixed martial artists, her twin brother Vangelis had fit right into the role of taking on the family business and now worked alongside their father. Or rather, worked the company for him given that Minas' drinking had become more severe these days... Persephone on the other hand was the shining hope of the family, destined to be the first (of her father's side of the family at least) to go to college.
The idea of her as a sorority girl was clearly a dream come true for her aunts but never for herself.
And nights like this reminded her why.
All day the girls had been dialled up to 11. Running and shouting with banners and paint and confetti and sheets of fabric and masks and costumes and just about everything one would need to create an indoor carnival of crazy. While Persephone had tried to stay mostly out of it and work on her paper for International Politics (everyone else was done with their work but scholarship students took every chance they could get at extra credit) the bangs and clangs and squeals had been too much of a distraction.
And the worst distraction of all?
When Selene, their effervescent (and admittedly nice) ringleader of chaos, had come storming into each and every room of the house and insisted that all TriDelt girls were to participate in the Kissing Booth room.
The demand had sent a bolt of cold terror through Persephone and she had gaped like a fish as the blonde had sprinted away, calling out to whomever it was who had stolen her hat.
It was an embarrassment to admit for a girl of 21... but Persephone had never kissed a guy before. Okay, that sounded lame. But it was easy to understand why. During high school she had been a slave to the acne gods, had worn glasses before she had discovered contacts and had more metal work in her mouth than a horror movie star. By the time she was free of such trappings and had morphed from duckling to swan, her brother was a local mixed martial arts champion who scared the shit out of anyone who went even a step into the personal space of his sister.
And since joining the university, away from his role as shadow-protector, Persephone had so far managed to be back home for most of the TriDelt events and, for the rest of the year, had her nose buried in a book and desperate to maintain her 4.0 average. Parties just weren't her thing. Along with socialising. And boys.
In a fit of panic that she was now entirely regretting for being truly an act of cowardice, Persephone had texted her brother a twin-SOS - basically a message that said, you shared a womb with me, so you can't refuse this - and expected him to show up within the hour. Until then, she had thirty minutes to make herself presentable and then another thirty minutes of party before her brother would be there to lean on.
Thirty minutes later and Persephone was another 500 words into her paper and had done nothing with her hair.
Standing in front of a mirror, Persephone couldn't help but be simultaneously critic and stubborn. She was dressed in exactly what she would wear on a normal day. Her slim body and pert breasts were clad in a bright, turquoise t-shirt with cap sleeves and low, rounded neck. On her legs she wore standard bootleg jeans in a soft, light shade. A white belt was posted through the loops though she had no need to hold up the garment on her miniscule hips and matched the thick soled stark white sneakers she wore on her feet, poking out the bottom of the bootleg cut. Her dark hair was brushed and worn down, swinging smoothly down to the small of her back and she wore minimal make-up. Though at least the genes she had inherited from her mother meant that she didn't need a lot.
As always, she wore her late mother's engagement ring on the ring finger of her right hand. This, she corrected and locked the piece of jewellery away in her private little box with her journal, in the back of her closet, so that it wouldn't be lost in the chaos.
She then assessed herself again in the mirror.
Stupidly bland but defiantly so. She didn't want this party. Why should she dress up for it? Even if she had been the brainiac the girls had gone to to send out mass invites to the whole campus via social media and email. Sighing through her nose, Persephone gave up with the critique. It was impossible to judge herself too harshly, at least, when she was assessing her appearance, standing in the middle of the make-out boudoir her own room had drawn in the games lot. Some called it the cushion room - apparently the idea was something like the bouncy castle outside - but they all knew what it would be used for by the end of the night.
Ew.
Leaving her laptop locked away and desperately trying to walk out of her room, over cushions and throws that tried to swallow her feet, Persephone finally reached the door of her bedroom and opened it onto the madness.
Noise was everywhere - girls she knew, a lot of people she didn't - and an insane amount of talking, laughing and squealing. Music pounded through the walls and as Persephone headed towards the main stairwell of the house - her roommate Melanie was handling the ticket booth for the first half of the night - Persephone looked down to see Selene, with her top hat and cane, welcoming and directing the guests like a ringmaster. Totally in her element.
Smiling at the ridiculousness of the site, Persephone leaned forward, her forearms on the banister and her feet stacked one on top of the other, watching the main entry hall and hoping to God her brother came through those doors sooner rather than later.
Persephone had absolutely no interested in TriDelt's social calendar. In fact, she had had no interest in being a TriDelt. Or part of a sorority for that matter. But she was a legacy. Her mother and her mother's mother and back and back until basically it was a far-gone conclusion that she would be a part of the house. And given that she had needed somewhere to live while she was studying, she had given up with arguing. The house was at least close to campus and now her father didn't complain that she didn't go out enough - because she had a ton of "girlfriends" living right there with her.
It didn't seem to matter to the head of the TriDelt's that Persephone had deliberately been as boring as she could in her induction "test" to the group, or that her mother had "slummed it" by marrying a working man below her old-money status. They were just delighted to have a legacy in their intake that year.
Three years later and Persephone was the quite nerd of the TriDelt's house. The fact that she was tanned, slim and had long dark, shiny hair - and was basically the carbon copy of her beautiful Latino mother - meant that she at least looked the part of a TriDelt sorority girl. But beneath the surface, Persephone was the one who kept to herself and tried to avoid events such as... this.
Not that she had a problem with fundraisers. Heck, given that she was at the university on scholarship for academic achievement she was all about the giving back. Her father, Minas ran a gym on the outskirts of town. Full of burly, testosterone-driven he-men and mixed martial artists, her twin brother Vangelis had fit right into the role of taking on the family business and now worked alongside their father. Or rather, worked the company for him given that Minas' drinking had become more severe these days... Persephone on the other hand was the shining hope of the family, destined to be the first (of her father's side of the family at least) to go to college.
The idea of her as a sorority girl was clearly a dream come true for her aunts but never for herself.
And nights like this reminded her why.
All day the girls had been dialled up to 11. Running and shouting with banners and paint and confetti and sheets of fabric and masks and costumes and just about everything one would need to create an indoor carnival of crazy. While Persephone had tried to stay mostly out of it and work on her paper for International Politics (everyone else was done with their work but scholarship students took every chance they could get at extra credit) the bangs and clangs and squeals had been too much of a distraction.
And the worst distraction of all?
When Selene, their effervescent (and admittedly nice) ringleader of chaos, had come storming into each and every room of the house and insisted that all TriDelt girls were to participate in the Kissing Booth room.
The demand had sent a bolt of cold terror through Persephone and she had gaped like a fish as the blonde had sprinted away, calling out to whomever it was who had stolen her hat.
It was an embarrassment to admit for a girl of 21... but Persephone had never kissed a guy before. Okay, that sounded lame. But it was easy to understand why. During high school she had been a slave to the acne gods, had worn glasses before she had discovered contacts and had more metal work in her mouth than a horror movie star. By the time she was free of such trappings and had morphed from duckling to swan, her brother was a local mixed martial arts champion who scared the shit out of anyone who went even a step into the personal space of his sister.
And since joining the university, away from his role as shadow-protector, Persephone had so far managed to be back home for most of the TriDelt events and, for the rest of the year, had her nose buried in a book and desperate to maintain her 4.0 average. Parties just weren't her thing. Along with socialising. And boys.
In a fit of panic that she was now entirely regretting for being truly an act of cowardice, Persephone had texted her brother a twin-SOS - basically a message that said, you shared a womb with me, so you can't refuse this - and expected him to show up within the hour. Until then, she had thirty minutes to make herself presentable and then another thirty minutes of party before her brother would be there to lean on.
Thirty minutes later and Persephone was another 500 words into her paper and had done nothing with her hair.
Standing in front of a mirror, Persephone couldn't help but be simultaneously critic and stubborn. She was dressed in exactly what she would wear on a normal day. Her slim body and pert breasts were clad in a bright, turquoise t-shirt with cap sleeves and low, rounded neck. On her legs she wore standard bootleg jeans in a soft, light shade. A white belt was posted through the loops though she had no need to hold up the garment on her miniscule hips and matched the thick soled stark white sneakers she wore on her feet, poking out the bottom of the bootleg cut. Her dark hair was brushed and worn down, swinging smoothly down to the small of her back and she wore minimal make-up. Though at least the genes she had inherited from her mother meant that she didn't need a lot.
As always, she wore her late mother's engagement ring on the ring finger of her right hand. This, she corrected and locked the piece of jewellery away in her private little box with her journal, in the back of her closet, so that it wouldn't be lost in the chaos.
She then assessed herself again in the mirror.
Stupidly bland but defiantly so. She didn't want this party. Why should she dress up for it? Even if she had been the brainiac the girls had gone to to send out mass invites to the whole campus via social media and email. Sighing through her nose, Persephone gave up with the critique. It was impossible to judge herself too harshly, at least, when she was assessing her appearance, standing in the middle of the make-out boudoir her own room had drawn in the games lot. Some called it the cushion room - apparently the idea was something like the bouncy castle outside - but they all knew what it would be used for by the end of the night.
Ew.
Leaving her laptop locked away and desperately trying to walk out of her room, over cushions and throws that tried to swallow her feet, Persephone finally reached the door of her bedroom and opened it onto the madness.
Noise was everywhere - girls she knew, a lot of people she didn't - and an insane amount of talking, laughing and squealing. Music pounded through the walls and as Persephone headed towards the main stairwell of the house - her roommate Melanie was handling the ticket booth for the first half of the night - Persephone looked down to see Selene, with her top hat and cane, welcoming and directing the guests like a ringmaster. Totally in her element.
Smiling at the ridiculousness of the site, Persephone leaned forward, her forearms on the banister and her feet stacked one on top of the other, watching the main entry hall and hoping to God her brother came through those doors sooner rather than later.
Veronike Accacia, or better known as Nike to her friends, had no liking for frat parties, or anything akin to it. It was a good thing that the girl had never been placed in a position where she was required to join one. On a scholarship (basically, the only way she could've entered the college considering her mother had passed away and Nike had no wish to look for her alcoholic father), Nike was well known for being studious and quiet. In fact, she would've been quite the wallflower nerd if not for one fact - she was a star at capoeira.
Two times world champion at the World Capoeira Championships in the women division, Nike was a clincher for the title - probably because she had never bothered training to be a women fighter. Growing up, she had believed in there being no hierarchy and gender division, and had asked her coach to push her just as hard as he would any guy. And he did. Strong and tough, the sport she favored had made her lean, with toned arms and even toner legs - not muscular, but the kind of lean that would gleam under the sunlight. Preferring shorts and simple tops, she was the epitome of a girl next door if not for her ridiculous physicue, something rare on any girl.
Because of her training, she has also competed in many MMA fights - and came out glorious, her unpredictable fighting style beating out others easily. She would've easily made her living on that, ahd her mother nothave her graduating from college as a dying wish. So as much as Nike wished she could get away from it, she had no choice. So splitting her time between her training done at the Ares Gym, closest to her college and her student quarters, Nike has her hands full.
So what brought her to this frat party, you ask?
Work, of course. She's got to make ends meet somehow. Her mother had left a small trust fund for her, but it was not enough to pay for everything, so Nike had found a job as a worker of a party decorative item provider. Whooper for her, her job for the night was watching over the bounce house while people patronized it, ensuring nothing untoward happened, and to pack up the items once the party was over. Even if this was her own college, she found herself flinching as girls squealed and others tittered. She had no time nor patience for them, really. A women of few words, her short, naturally curly hair that fell to her shoulders were left loose, but Nike suspected it was her piercing blue-green eyes that somehow made guys walk up to her - an annoyance to her. Nike was not one to make small talk, and she sighed as yet another group of squealing girls made their way to the bounce house.
This was going to be a long night.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
Veronike Accacia, or better known as Nike to her friends, had no liking for frat parties, or anything akin to it. It was a good thing that the girl had never been placed in a position where she was required to join one. On a scholarship (basically, the only way she could've entered the college considering her mother had passed away and Nike had no wish to look for her alcoholic father), Nike was well known for being studious and quiet. In fact, she would've been quite the wallflower nerd if not for one fact - she was a star at capoeira.
Two times world champion at the World Capoeira Championships in the women division, Nike was a clincher for the title - probably because she had never bothered training to be a women fighter. Growing up, she had believed in there being no hierarchy and gender division, and had asked her coach to push her just as hard as he would any guy. And he did. Strong and tough, the sport she favored had made her lean, with toned arms and even toner legs - not muscular, but the kind of lean that would gleam under the sunlight. Preferring shorts and simple tops, she was the epitome of a girl next door if not for her ridiculous physicue, something rare on any girl.
Because of her training, she has also competed in many MMA fights - and came out glorious, her unpredictable fighting style beating out others easily. She would've easily made her living on that, ahd her mother nothave her graduating from college as a dying wish. So as much as Nike wished she could get away from it, she had no choice. So splitting her time between her training done at the Ares Gym, closest to her college and her student quarters, Nike has her hands full.
So what brought her to this frat party, you ask?
Work, of course. She's got to make ends meet somehow. Her mother had left a small trust fund for her, but it was not enough to pay for everything, so Nike had found a job as a worker of a party decorative item provider. Whooper for her, her job for the night was watching over the bounce house while people patronized it, ensuring nothing untoward happened, and to pack up the items once the party was over. Even if this was her own college, she found herself flinching as girls squealed and others tittered. She had no time nor patience for them, really. A women of few words, her short, naturally curly hair that fell to her shoulders were left loose, but Nike suspected it was her piercing blue-green eyes that somehow made guys walk up to her - an annoyance to her. Nike was not one to make small talk, and she sighed as yet another group of squealing girls made their way to the bounce house.
This was going to be a long night.
Veronike Accacia, or better known as Nike to her friends, had no liking for frat parties, or anything akin to it. It was a good thing that the girl had never been placed in a position where she was required to join one. On a scholarship (basically, the only way she could've entered the college considering her mother had passed away and Nike had no wish to look for her alcoholic father), Nike was well known for being studious and quiet. In fact, she would've been quite the wallflower nerd if not for one fact - she was a star at capoeira.
Two times world champion at the World Capoeira Championships in the women division, Nike was a clincher for the title - probably because she had never bothered training to be a women fighter. Growing up, she had believed in there being no hierarchy and gender division, and had asked her coach to push her just as hard as he would any guy. And he did. Strong and tough, the sport she favored had made her lean, with toned arms and even toner legs - not muscular, but the kind of lean that would gleam under the sunlight. Preferring shorts and simple tops, she was the epitome of a girl next door if not for her ridiculous physicue, something rare on any girl.
Because of her training, she has also competed in many MMA fights - and came out glorious, her unpredictable fighting style beating out others easily. She would've easily made her living on that, ahd her mother nothave her graduating from college as a dying wish. So as much as Nike wished she could get away from it, she had no choice. So splitting her time between her training done at the Ares Gym, closest to her college and her student quarters, Nike has her hands full.
So what brought her to this frat party, you ask?
Work, of course. She's got to make ends meet somehow. Her mother had left a small trust fund for her, but it was not enough to pay for everything, so Nike had found a job as a worker of a party decorative item provider. Whooper for her, her job for the night was watching over the bounce house while people patronized it, ensuring nothing untoward happened, and to pack up the items once the party was over. Even if this was her own college, she found herself flinching as girls squealed and others tittered. She had no time nor patience for them, really. A women of few words, her short, naturally curly hair that fell to her shoulders were left loose, but Nike suspected it was her piercing blue-green eyes that somehow made guys walk up to her - an annoyance to her. Nike was not one to make small talk, and she sighed as yet another group of squealing girls made their way to the bounce house.
This was going to be a long night.
The young Hospitality Management Major stood in the corner holding a handful of tickets in one hand and a beer in the other. Big doe brown eyes stared out into the ever increasing crowd of people with apprehension. One might even suggest she looked similar to that of a trembling chihuahua. See she hadn't really wanted to attend such a party, or any large gathering for that matter, and she would have been quite comfortable in her dorm at this point, watching silent films of Charlie Chaplain, had it not been for her roommate and Aunt.
A man walked by her, "Hey you in line?" She shook her head and tried her best to merge with the wall that braced her to give him room, and allow the line to extend. It was at this point she realized that her safe haven would eventually lead to her suffocation. How did she get through this throng of people? How had she let herself get talked into this? She tried to make her way down the hall, past the booths, and down the stairs. It was a struggle.
"Exc-..." Her whisper trailed off as she tried her best not to make contact with anyone, physical or verbal. She failed epicaly when she ran into Emilia, her beer spilling in the process. This look of dread and terror filled over her features, "So-so-so...I mean...uh...uhm..." She couldn't spilled it out as her nerves seized her. She then did the unthinkable, the unimaginable, and yet the kindest act one could consider. She handed her beer off to someone, an took off her button up top and offered it to Emilia along with her tickets, not knowing who she was, and leaving herself with nothing more than a bra and a tank top on her upper half. "Here."
What was she thinking? Why did she let them pressure her? She had been on the phone discussing her classes with her aunt, when her roommate came running in waving around some flier. It would have been nice if she had kept it at that, but then she had to go bantering on about some party as if it were Prom. Her Aunt, being nosy, happened to hear the word party, and well it was all down hill from there. Down hill from here! Now she had spilled her drink in the process of running over probably some very gracious and kind person who totally didn't deserve any of this and was just trying to have a good night! To make matters worse, she was majoring in Hospitality Management and couldn't so much as utter an apology in her panic. This meant her career choice was doomed, her four year plan doomed, her life DOOMED! Actions spoke louder than words right?
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
The young Hospitality Management Major stood in the corner holding a handful of tickets in one hand and a beer in the other. Big doe brown eyes stared out into the ever increasing crowd of people with apprehension. One might even suggest she looked similar to that of a trembling chihuahua. See she hadn't really wanted to attend such a party, or any large gathering for that matter, and she would have been quite comfortable in her dorm at this point, watching silent films of Charlie Chaplain, had it not been for her roommate and Aunt.
A man walked by her, "Hey you in line?" She shook her head and tried her best to merge with the wall that braced her to give him room, and allow the line to extend. It was at this point she realized that her safe haven would eventually lead to her suffocation. How did she get through this throng of people? How had she let herself get talked into this? She tried to make her way down the hall, past the booths, and down the stairs. It was a struggle.
"Exc-..." Her whisper trailed off as she tried her best not to make contact with anyone, physical or verbal. She failed epicaly when she ran into Emilia, her beer spilling in the process. This look of dread and terror filled over her features, "So-so-so...I mean...uh...uhm..." She couldn't spilled it out as her nerves seized her. She then did the unthinkable, the unimaginable, and yet the kindest act one could consider. She handed her beer off to someone, an took off her button up top and offered it to Emilia along with her tickets, not knowing who she was, and leaving herself with nothing more than a bra and a tank top on her upper half. "Here."
What was she thinking? Why did she let them pressure her? She had been on the phone discussing her classes with her aunt, when her roommate came running in waving around some flier. It would have been nice if she had kept it at that, but then she had to go bantering on about some party as if it were Prom. Her Aunt, being nosy, happened to hear the word party, and well it was all down hill from there. Down hill from here! Now she had spilled her drink in the process of running over probably some very gracious and kind person who totally didn't deserve any of this and was just trying to have a good night! To make matters worse, she was majoring in Hospitality Management and couldn't so much as utter an apology in her panic. This meant her career choice was doomed, her four year plan doomed, her life DOOMED! Actions spoke louder than words right?
The young Hospitality Management Major stood in the corner holding a handful of tickets in one hand and a beer in the other. Big doe brown eyes stared out into the ever increasing crowd of people with apprehension. One might even suggest she looked similar to that of a trembling chihuahua. See she hadn't really wanted to attend such a party, or any large gathering for that matter, and she would have been quite comfortable in her dorm at this point, watching silent films of Charlie Chaplain, had it not been for her roommate and Aunt.
A man walked by her, "Hey you in line?" She shook her head and tried her best to merge with the wall that braced her to give him room, and allow the line to extend. It was at this point she realized that her safe haven would eventually lead to her suffocation. How did she get through this throng of people? How had she let herself get talked into this? She tried to make her way down the hall, past the booths, and down the stairs. It was a struggle.
"Exc-..." Her whisper trailed off as she tried her best not to make contact with anyone, physical or verbal. She failed epicaly when she ran into Emilia, her beer spilling in the process. This look of dread and terror filled over her features, "So-so-so...I mean...uh...uhm..." She couldn't spilled it out as her nerves seized her. She then did the unthinkable, the unimaginable, and yet the kindest act one could consider. She handed her beer off to someone, an took off her button up top and offered it to Emilia along with her tickets, not knowing who she was, and leaving herself with nothing more than a bra and a tank top on her upper half. "Here."
What was she thinking? Why did she let them pressure her? She had been on the phone discussing her classes with her aunt, when her roommate came running in waving around some flier. It would have been nice if she had kept it at that, but then she had to go bantering on about some party as if it were Prom. Her Aunt, being nosy, happened to hear the word party, and well it was all down hill from there. Down hill from here! Now she had spilled her drink in the process of running over probably some very gracious and kind person who totally didn't deserve any of this and was just trying to have a good night! To make matters worse, she was majoring in Hospitality Management and couldn't so much as utter an apology in her panic. This meant her career choice was doomed, her four year plan doomed, her life DOOMED! Actions spoke louder than words right?
First month of college had been lit. Parties every night, you know? Drink yourself to hell, smoke yourself into oblivion and skip a ton of classes to get over the hangovers. Philosophy 3110 was easy A-F. Symbolic logic? Basic. Fucking. Maths. If you were going to give him such a bullshit subject to study for three hours, then at least make it hard. Urgh, he literally couldn't wait to start Ancient Philosophy next month. Well, he could wait because there was yet another party on tonight. Mihail might have been a cynical asshole but he could never resist any kinda party. Some kinda fundraiser. Whatever, raising money for good causes made him look like fifty times as good a guy.
Dressed up and looking damn fine, Mihail had made his way to that party and quickly grabbed himself some tickets so he could take part in whichever games they'd set up around the house. And, hey, if it turned out to be super dull here then he'd brought some favours to liven up the mood. Check it: little recipe he'd learned in junior year of high school, only took a bit of grass, bit of butter and mix it all into a totally normal brownie. Higher dosage than the normal but that was much better. You wanted this stuff to kick in and you wanted it to kick in fast. There had to be someone around who would want one, there always was, he just had to find them.
It looked like he'd arrived around the same time as what looked like half the soccer team which was automatically lowering his sex appeal. Mihail knew he was a pretty guy - any other adjective would have implied a sense of ruggedness that he most certainly did not possess - but he wasn't a soccer player, and that was what made you popular. He was just a man in the middle, pushed up by family name and armed with a nicely anonymous gossip column in the student paper. But they weren't a problem right now. What was a problem right at this moment was the fact that, in his attempt to dodge past the soccer team, Mihail had crashed straight into one of the light-haired girls that were running this thing, and, as luck would have it, had dropped his bag full of wrapped up brownies. "Shit."
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
First month of college had been lit. Parties every night, you know? Drink yourself to hell, smoke yourself into oblivion and skip a ton of classes to get over the hangovers. Philosophy 3110 was easy A-F. Symbolic logic? Basic. Fucking. Maths. If you were going to give him such a bullshit subject to study for three hours, then at least make it hard. Urgh, he literally couldn't wait to start Ancient Philosophy next month. Well, he could wait because there was yet another party on tonight. Mihail might have been a cynical asshole but he could never resist any kinda party. Some kinda fundraiser. Whatever, raising money for good causes made him look like fifty times as good a guy.
Dressed up and looking damn fine, Mihail had made his way to that party and quickly grabbed himself some tickets so he could take part in whichever games they'd set up around the house. And, hey, if it turned out to be super dull here then he'd brought some favours to liven up the mood. Check it: little recipe he'd learned in junior year of high school, only took a bit of grass, bit of butter and mix it all into a totally normal brownie. Higher dosage than the normal but that was much better. You wanted this stuff to kick in and you wanted it to kick in fast. There had to be someone around who would want one, there always was, he just had to find them.
It looked like he'd arrived around the same time as what looked like half the soccer team which was automatically lowering his sex appeal. Mihail knew he was a pretty guy - any other adjective would have implied a sense of ruggedness that he most certainly did not possess - but he wasn't a soccer player, and that was what made you popular. He was just a man in the middle, pushed up by family name and armed with a nicely anonymous gossip column in the student paper. But they weren't a problem right now. What was a problem right at this moment was the fact that, in his attempt to dodge past the soccer team, Mihail had crashed straight into one of the light-haired girls that were running this thing, and, as luck would have it, had dropped his bag full of wrapped up brownies. "Shit."
First month of college had been lit. Parties every night, you know? Drink yourself to hell, smoke yourself into oblivion and skip a ton of classes to get over the hangovers. Philosophy 3110 was easy A-F. Symbolic logic? Basic. Fucking. Maths. If you were going to give him such a bullshit subject to study for three hours, then at least make it hard. Urgh, he literally couldn't wait to start Ancient Philosophy next month. Well, he could wait because there was yet another party on tonight. Mihail might have been a cynical asshole but he could never resist any kinda party. Some kinda fundraiser. Whatever, raising money for good causes made him look like fifty times as good a guy.
Dressed up and looking damn fine, Mihail had made his way to that party and quickly grabbed himself some tickets so he could take part in whichever games they'd set up around the house. And, hey, if it turned out to be super dull here then he'd brought some favours to liven up the mood. Check it: little recipe he'd learned in junior year of high school, only took a bit of grass, bit of butter and mix it all into a totally normal brownie. Higher dosage than the normal but that was much better. You wanted this stuff to kick in and you wanted it to kick in fast. There had to be someone around who would want one, there always was, he just had to find them.
It looked like he'd arrived around the same time as what looked like half the soccer team which was automatically lowering his sex appeal. Mihail knew he was a pretty guy - any other adjective would have implied a sense of ruggedness that he most certainly did not possess - but he wasn't a soccer player, and that was what made you popular. He was just a man in the middle, pushed up by family name and armed with a nicely anonymous gossip column in the student paper. But they weren't a problem right now. What was a problem right at this moment was the fact that, in his attempt to dodge past the soccer team, Mihail had crashed straight into one of the light-haired girls that were running this thing, and, as luck would have it, had dropped his bag full of wrapped up brownies. "Shit."
There had been a fight this whole ordeal about this only a few months ago.
Rafail had not wanted to attend college at all. He knew full well how adulthood was going to go. As soon as he left this place he was going to be given a job at Daddy's private equity firm, the sort of dream job any common idiot would have wanted. His older half-brother was already a partner (a title given to him partially so that Daddy could start to turn his attention away from the company and to his political career), already married, already a success. On the other hand, Rafail was the eldest son to the second wife, the better one, had once gotten an A- in economics and was captain of the polo team. And that was about the extent of his triumphs. They did not add up to him wanting to go to college nor wanting some banking position, rather, they added up to him wanting to stay at home, keep his life going the way he enjoyed it and keep screwing Daddy's third wife, the idiot twenty-nine-year-old behind his back. But Panos Marikas was having none of that. No son of his was going to live his life some useless layabout. They were a family that bred success and success alone. Even Sofia was graduating her own high school with honours and a college scholarship.
Freshly turned twenty-two and enjoying the last three years of debauchery, these were not the words he had wanted to hear. Rafail had already been forced to suffer through two separate internships at Marikas Global Management because Daddy would rather he was doing something that was at least beneficial to his future, one with the analysts - all utter freaks, as far as he was concerned, not to mention he would never have planned to take such a low paying job at the firm - and the second bumped up after plentiful complaining to sit alongside the directors. After enduring that agony, college was not an option he was considering.
But life was not going his way for once, and Rafail had found a place bought for him at his father's alma mater, a generous donation for the sake of expanding their library, only three years late to starting college.
Here's the thing about that. Yes, it gave him an additional sense of power that the young man absolutely adored (he appreciated looking like twice as much of an asshole because Daddy had paid his way in), and the girls adored the story. They liked to know he was rich and they liked to know he wasn't going to treat them so sweetly and stupidly as any other man, even if that was the façade he wore at the start of any relationship. But it still came with its downsides. There were plenty who thought of him as an idiot, rich idiot, with no worries and no struggles. Rafail did not care to be thought of in such a way but he didn't let it bother him. He knew exactly which people he was better than, and he had always known. It wasn't his fault that some people were born without the privilege or beauty or charisma that he had. That was a problem they had to learn to handle themselves without bothering him.
There were a few things he supposed he enjoyed about his current education, however. The parties were sufficiently entertaining and Tinder was blowing up around here. Finance lectures were dull but there were other people who could handle the work for him because everyone had a price. The only real problem was making sure three girlfriends on the same campus didn't find out about each other - something that appeared to still be an issue despite how often Rafail was sure he'd made it clear he had no interest in exclusivity - but that wasn't all too complicated either. They all lived on opposite sides of campus and as far as he knew, the only thing they had in common was that they were all with him.
It only became difficult to manage when there was a party like the one tonight and all three of them wanted to go with him. That was, truth be told, how he'd found out about the event in the first place. He'd run through the options in his mind, coming up with the decision that taking none of them would be the easiest solution and the one that was going to get him the most tail. He had turned each of them down with promises of a future overly-romantic date, just as they wished it, a request that none of them attend the party themselves because he wasn't going and he couldn't bear the thought of them finding a man they liked more than he whilst there, and the gift of a stunning pendant each from Cartier's diamond collection. There wasn't anyone around who could twist a girl's heart quite like Rafail could.
How were they expecting him to get a good shag that night if they always seemed to insist on being in his way?
Parties required extensive preparation in the form of a spa treatment and a trip to the stylist. Hair brushed forwards in that slightly dishevelled yet sophisticated style that was so common to him, nails freshly manicured and the most elegantly fetching bespoke suit with just a dab of Paco Rabanne's One Million Intense because you couldn't just do with looking good, you had to smell good too. Whatever the theme of the party was, he couldn't care in the slightest, suits and a bit of cologne were his preferred outfit and, besides, parties had been invented for a quick hook-up, looking your finest was a necessity. Luckily, he always looked his absolute best, anything else was never an option.
Arriving at the party, Rafail was pleased to see that he was fashionably late to the event. Late enough that he wasn't the first to arrive and early enough that he wasn't awkwardly tardy. A lack of patience developed from his particular upbringing meant that he didn't enjoy being unpunctual nor did he enjoy dilatoriness in others. Ah, this was a fundraiser, was it? That memo had not managed to reach him when he had first heard of tonight and that somewhat irked him. Rafail was not a fan of charity. He thought it pointless and anything pointless was an utter waste of his time. He had far better things and people to do than spend his time raising money for a meaningless cause that would never be satisfied, but the potential of a good lay was greater than the tediousness of the work, so he opted to suck it up for once and strode towards the entrance with all the pride in the world.
Running a hand through his hair to ensure that it was still perfect which, for the record, it was, he grinned at the girl currently manning the ticket booth, setting down a couple of hundred dollar bills and a slip of paper with his number on it because, hey, she wasn't unattractive. "Keep the change, hm, gorgeous? They need it more than us." Who were 'they' again? He hadn't exactly been paying attention to the signs when he'd walked into the place. Poor people were poor people, no matter how you sugar-coated it. He wasn't here to help, he was here to have a good time. There were rumours of a kissing booth, after all, and he couldn't deny an interest in that. Of course, they were generally designed for the sad few freshmen who couldn't get themselves a date of their own accord and barely ever for the high-class and charming boys who could swing a fuck with just a couple of kind words, but there was a certain fun to them and Rafail would most definitely be paying it a visit at some point.
He didn't want to spoil all the fun for himself right away, however. A little mingling was due, a little searching to see who would be the best way to treat himself that evening. Rafail had found himself a glass of wine - it tasted cheaper than what he would have expected from these girls - and made to stand by the staircase, leaning on the bannister where he could get a good view of the entrance and quickly survey any of the guests currently present to see if he would be deeming them worthy of his attention. There were a few cuties flitting about, a couple of exes he could see that wouldn't be all too happy to see him, not that he was at all interested in their feelings, but no one who seemed all that worth talking to right at that moment. Maybe all the girls who were that perfect combination of hot and easy just hadn't arrived yet, following his lead in being just so perfectly late. Or maybe they were in the other rooms, manning the festival activities. It looked as though Rafail was going to have to fight for what he wanted, something he was not a fan of doing. Women were supposed to simply come to him. Luckily, there was bound to be at least one place at this party where all the easy girls and all the naive girls would be headed at some point or another, so he pushed himself off the bannister and started moving down the hallway to find this kissing booth he'd heard so much about. Sure, it went against his plans to visit the best part of the party so early on but, sometimes, you had to make sacrifices to ensure things went the way you had envisioned. Daddy had probably meant that in a completely different, more business orientated sense, but it applied just as easily to this moment.
"Hey, you know where I can find this kissing booth thing?" he asked one of the girls, one of the frumpier ones that you could never be sure of how they'd gotten into the place, an arm snaking around her shoulders in a show of attention he could be sure she'd never received before. She was easily smitten, a light giggle escaping her lips as she appeared to make her own assumptions as to exactly why he wanted the location of the kissing booth.
"D-down, down the hall. You wanted to...go?"
She'd stuttered her response, nodding her head in the direction so many people appeared to be headed. Rafail followed her gesture, noting someone a lot more interesting than this idiot girl moving right where he wanted to go. Looked like this had been just the perfect plot after all. "Mm. Not with you." His attention now pulled away from Miss Dowdy over here, he waved her aside, turning to slide past her and following the gaggle of cheerleaders he'd spotted only a moment ago. Cheerleaders were generally hot and either always easy or always insecure enough that they made for unchallenging prey. And there was one slightly younger looking one that had caught his eye a few times in the past month amongst the group, dressed in shorts and a cute little crop top. There were a lot of girls on the squad that he would have readily done it with but there was something about this particular girl that really did intrigue him more than the regular. You only had to hope that she didn't know his reputation, though that was easier said than done.
Rafail made an obvious beeline towards her, crossing her path to momentarily block the line into the room, resting against the doorframe. Um, okay, maybe not as cute today as he'd seen her be in the past, given that she seemed to be covered in beer? He could more or less piece together what had just happened, given the equally attractive girl currently yet awkwardly hovering behind her wearing not very much. Please, it was almost like this one was asking for it. She wasn't who he'd come for but he could fit her into his plans no problem. Flashing the pair a smile, showing off those bright white teeth made perfect by a multitude of whitening sessions that, in hindsight, had definitely been worth it, no matter what anyone - Daddy, duh - had to say about it, and raised an eyebrow as if expressing his surprise that they would be entering the room behind him, opting to ignore whatever was going on with spillages. Spillages didn't matter in the long term. "You pretty things headed in here? Cos I'm pretty sure the three of us can set up our own kinda kissing booth outside. I didn't see anyone watching that bounce house just now." He flickered his gaze over both of them once more, eyeing his first interest's alcohol stained top and the second's slim figure. Hm. Now he couldn't quite decide which one he was more interested in. "Maybe you get yourself cleaned up and find a couple more of your friends to join us?"
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
There had been a fight this whole ordeal about this only a few months ago.
Rafail had not wanted to attend college at all. He knew full well how adulthood was going to go. As soon as he left this place he was going to be given a job at Daddy's private equity firm, the sort of dream job any common idiot would have wanted. His older half-brother was already a partner (a title given to him partially so that Daddy could start to turn his attention away from the company and to his political career), already married, already a success. On the other hand, Rafail was the eldest son to the second wife, the better one, had once gotten an A- in economics and was captain of the polo team. And that was about the extent of his triumphs. They did not add up to him wanting to go to college nor wanting some banking position, rather, they added up to him wanting to stay at home, keep his life going the way he enjoyed it and keep screwing Daddy's third wife, the idiot twenty-nine-year-old behind his back. But Panos Marikas was having none of that. No son of his was going to live his life some useless layabout. They were a family that bred success and success alone. Even Sofia was graduating her own high school with honours and a college scholarship.
Freshly turned twenty-two and enjoying the last three years of debauchery, these were not the words he had wanted to hear. Rafail had already been forced to suffer through two separate internships at Marikas Global Management because Daddy would rather he was doing something that was at least beneficial to his future, one with the analysts - all utter freaks, as far as he was concerned, not to mention he would never have planned to take such a low paying job at the firm - and the second bumped up after plentiful complaining to sit alongside the directors. After enduring that agony, college was not an option he was considering.
But life was not going his way for once, and Rafail had found a place bought for him at his father's alma mater, a generous donation for the sake of expanding their library, only three years late to starting college.
Here's the thing about that. Yes, it gave him an additional sense of power that the young man absolutely adored (he appreciated looking like twice as much of an asshole because Daddy had paid his way in), and the girls adored the story. They liked to know he was rich and they liked to know he wasn't going to treat them so sweetly and stupidly as any other man, even if that was the façade he wore at the start of any relationship. But it still came with its downsides. There were plenty who thought of him as an idiot, rich idiot, with no worries and no struggles. Rafail did not care to be thought of in such a way but he didn't let it bother him. He knew exactly which people he was better than, and he had always known. It wasn't his fault that some people were born without the privilege or beauty or charisma that he had. That was a problem they had to learn to handle themselves without bothering him.
There were a few things he supposed he enjoyed about his current education, however. The parties were sufficiently entertaining and Tinder was blowing up around here. Finance lectures were dull but there were other people who could handle the work for him because everyone had a price. The only real problem was making sure three girlfriends on the same campus didn't find out about each other - something that appeared to still be an issue despite how often Rafail was sure he'd made it clear he had no interest in exclusivity - but that wasn't all too complicated either. They all lived on opposite sides of campus and as far as he knew, the only thing they had in common was that they were all with him.
It only became difficult to manage when there was a party like the one tonight and all three of them wanted to go with him. That was, truth be told, how he'd found out about the event in the first place. He'd run through the options in his mind, coming up with the decision that taking none of them would be the easiest solution and the one that was going to get him the most tail. He had turned each of them down with promises of a future overly-romantic date, just as they wished it, a request that none of them attend the party themselves because he wasn't going and he couldn't bear the thought of them finding a man they liked more than he whilst there, and the gift of a stunning pendant each from Cartier's diamond collection. There wasn't anyone around who could twist a girl's heart quite like Rafail could.
How were they expecting him to get a good shag that night if they always seemed to insist on being in his way?
Parties required extensive preparation in the form of a spa treatment and a trip to the stylist. Hair brushed forwards in that slightly dishevelled yet sophisticated style that was so common to him, nails freshly manicured and the most elegantly fetching bespoke suit with just a dab of Paco Rabanne's One Million Intense because you couldn't just do with looking good, you had to smell good too. Whatever the theme of the party was, he couldn't care in the slightest, suits and a bit of cologne were his preferred outfit and, besides, parties had been invented for a quick hook-up, looking your finest was a necessity. Luckily, he always looked his absolute best, anything else was never an option.
Arriving at the party, Rafail was pleased to see that he was fashionably late to the event. Late enough that he wasn't the first to arrive and early enough that he wasn't awkwardly tardy. A lack of patience developed from his particular upbringing meant that he didn't enjoy being unpunctual nor did he enjoy dilatoriness in others. Ah, this was a fundraiser, was it? That memo had not managed to reach him when he had first heard of tonight and that somewhat irked him. Rafail was not a fan of charity. He thought it pointless and anything pointless was an utter waste of his time. He had far better things and people to do than spend his time raising money for a meaningless cause that would never be satisfied, but the potential of a good lay was greater than the tediousness of the work, so he opted to suck it up for once and strode towards the entrance with all the pride in the world.
Running a hand through his hair to ensure that it was still perfect which, for the record, it was, he grinned at the girl currently manning the ticket booth, setting down a couple of hundred dollar bills and a slip of paper with his number on it because, hey, she wasn't unattractive. "Keep the change, hm, gorgeous? They need it more than us." Who were 'they' again? He hadn't exactly been paying attention to the signs when he'd walked into the place. Poor people were poor people, no matter how you sugar-coated it. He wasn't here to help, he was here to have a good time. There were rumours of a kissing booth, after all, and he couldn't deny an interest in that. Of course, they were generally designed for the sad few freshmen who couldn't get themselves a date of their own accord and barely ever for the high-class and charming boys who could swing a fuck with just a couple of kind words, but there was a certain fun to them and Rafail would most definitely be paying it a visit at some point.
He didn't want to spoil all the fun for himself right away, however. A little mingling was due, a little searching to see who would be the best way to treat himself that evening. Rafail had found himself a glass of wine - it tasted cheaper than what he would have expected from these girls - and made to stand by the staircase, leaning on the bannister where he could get a good view of the entrance and quickly survey any of the guests currently present to see if he would be deeming them worthy of his attention. There were a few cuties flitting about, a couple of exes he could see that wouldn't be all too happy to see him, not that he was at all interested in their feelings, but no one who seemed all that worth talking to right at that moment. Maybe all the girls who were that perfect combination of hot and easy just hadn't arrived yet, following his lead in being just so perfectly late. Or maybe they were in the other rooms, manning the festival activities. It looked as though Rafail was going to have to fight for what he wanted, something he was not a fan of doing. Women were supposed to simply come to him. Luckily, there was bound to be at least one place at this party where all the easy girls and all the naive girls would be headed at some point or another, so he pushed himself off the bannister and started moving down the hallway to find this kissing booth he'd heard so much about. Sure, it went against his plans to visit the best part of the party so early on but, sometimes, you had to make sacrifices to ensure things went the way you had envisioned. Daddy had probably meant that in a completely different, more business orientated sense, but it applied just as easily to this moment.
"Hey, you know where I can find this kissing booth thing?" he asked one of the girls, one of the frumpier ones that you could never be sure of how they'd gotten into the place, an arm snaking around her shoulders in a show of attention he could be sure she'd never received before. She was easily smitten, a light giggle escaping her lips as she appeared to make her own assumptions as to exactly why he wanted the location of the kissing booth.
"D-down, down the hall. You wanted to...go?"
She'd stuttered her response, nodding her head in the direction so many people appeared to be headed. Rafail followed her gesture, noting someone a lot more interesting than this idiot girl moving right where he wanted to go. Looked like this had been just the perfect plot after all. "Mm. Not with you." His attention now pulled away from Miss Dowdy over here, he waved her aside, turning to slide past her and following the gaggle of cheerleaders he'd spotted only a moment ago. Cheerleaders were generally hot and either always easy or always insecure enough that they made for unchallenging prey. And there was one slightly younger looking one that had caught his eye a few times in the past month amongst the group, dressed in shorts and a cute little crop top. There were a lot of girls on the squad that he would have readily done it with but there was something about this particular girl that really did intrigue him more than the regular. You only had to hope that she didn't know his reputation, though that was easier said than done.
Rafail made an obvious beeline towards her, crossing her path to momentarily block the line into the room, resting against the doorframe. Um, okay, maybe not as cute today as he'd seen her be in the past, given that she seemed to be covered in beer? He could more or less piece together what had just happened, given the equally attractive girl currently yet awkwardly hovering behind her wearing not very much. Please, it was almost like this one was asking for it. She wasn't who he'd come for but he could fit her into his plans no problem. Flashing the pair a smile, showing off those bright white teeth made perfect by a multitude of whitening sessions that, in hindsight, had definitely been worth it, no matter what anyone - Daddy, duh - had to say about it, and raised an eyebrow as if expressing his surprise that they would be entering the room behind him, opting to ignore whatever was going on with spillages. Spillages didn't matter in the long term. "You pretty things headed in here? Cos I'm pretty sure the three of us can set up our own kinda kissing booth outside. I didn't see anyone watching that bounce house just now." He flickered his gaze over both of them once more, eyeing his first interest's alcohol stained top and the second's slim figure. Hm. Now he couldn't quite decide which one he was more interested in. "Maybe you get yourself cleaned up and find a couple more of your friends to join us?"
There had been a fight this whole ordeal about this only a few months ago.
Rafail had not wanted to attend college at all. He knew full well how adulthood was going to go. As soon as he left this place he was going to be given a job at Daddy's private equity firm, the sort of dream job any common idiot would have wanted. His older half-brother was already a partner (a title given to him partially so that Daddy could start to turn his attention away from the company and to his political career), already married, already a success. On the other hand, Rafail was the eldest son to the second wife, the better one, had once gotten an A- in economics and was captain of the polo team. And that was about the extent of his triumphs. They did not add up to him wanting to go to college nor wanting some banking position, rather, they added up to him wanting to stay at home, keep his life going the way he enjoyed it and keep screwing Daddy's third wife, the idiot twenty-nine-year-old behind his back. But Panos Marikas was having none of that. No son of his was going to live his life some useless layabout. They were a family that bred success and success alone. Even Sofia was graduating her own high school with honours and a college scholarship.
Freshly turned twenty-two and enjoying the last three years of debauchery, these were not the words he had wanted to hear. Rafail had already been forced to suffer through two separate internships at Marikas Global Management because Daddy would rather he was doing something that was at least beneficial to his future, one with the analysts - all utter freaks, as far as he was concerned, not to mention he would never have planned to take such a low paying job at the firm - and the second bumped up after plentiful complaining to sit alongside the directors. After enduring that agony, college was not an option he was considering.
But life was not going his way for once, and Rafail had found a place bought for him at his father's alma mater, a generous donation for the sake of expanding their library, only three years late to starting college.
Here's the thing about that. Yes, it gave him an additional sense of power that the young man absolutely adored (he appreciated looking like twice as much of an asshole because Daddy had paid his way in), and the girls adored the story. They liked to know he was rich and they liked to know he wasn't going to treat them so sweetly and stupidly as any other man, even if that was the façade he wore at the start of any relationship. But it still came with its downsides. There were plenty who thought of him as an idiot, rich idiot, with no worries and no struggles. Rafail did not care to be thought of in such a way but he didn't let it bother him. He knew exactly which people he was better than, and he had always known. It wasn't his fault that some people were born without the privilege or beauty or charisma that he had. That was a problem they had to learn to handle themselves without bothering him.
There were a few things he supposed he enjoyed about his current education, however. The parties were sufficiently entertaining and Tinder was blowing up around here. Finance lectures were dull but there were other people who could handle the work for him because everyone had a price. The only real problem was making sure three girlfriends on the same campus didn't find out about each other - something that appeared to still be an issue despite how often Rafail was sure he'd made it clear he had no interest in exclusivity - but that wasn't all too complicated either. They all lived on opposite sides of campus and as far as he knew, the only thing they had in common was that they were all with him.
It only became difficult to manage when there was a party like the one tonight and all three of them wanted to go with him. That was, truth be told, how he'd found out about the event in the first place. He'd run through the options in his mind, coming up with the decision that taking none of them would be the easiest solution and the one that was going to get him the most tail. He had turned each of them down with promises of a future overly-romantic date, just as they wished it, a request that none of them attend the party themselves because he wasn't going and he couldn't bear the thought of them finding a man they liked more than he whilst there, and the gift of a stunning pendant each from Cartier's diamond collection. There wasn't anyone around who could twist a girl's heart quite like Rafail could.
How were they expecting him to get a good shag that night if they always seemed to insist on being in his way?
Parties required extensive preparation in the form of a spa treatment and a trip to the stylist. Hair brushed forwards in that slightly dishevelled yet sophisticated style that was so common to him, nails freshly manicured and the most elegantly fetching bespoke suit with just a dab of Paco Rabanne's One Million Intense because you couldn't just do with looking good, you had to smell good too. Whatever the theme of the party was, he couldn't care in the slightest, suits and a bit of cologne were his preferred outfit and, besides, parties had been invented for a quick hook-up, looking your finest was a necessity. Luckily, he always looked his absolute best, anything else was never an option.
Arriving at the party, Rafail was pleased to see that he was fashionably late to the event. Late enough that he wasn't the first to arrive and early enough that he wasn't awkwardly tardy. A lack of patience developed from his particular upbringing meant that he didn't enjoy being unpunctual nor did he enjoy dilatoriness in others. Ah, this was a fundraiser, was it? That memo had not managed to reach him when he had first heard of tonight and that somewhat irked him. Rafail was not a fan of charity. He thought it pointless and anything pointless was an utter waste of his time. He had far better things and people to do than spend his time raising money for a meaningless cause that would never be satisfied, but the potential of a good lay was greater than the tediousness of the work, so he opted to suck it up for once and strode towards the entrance with all the pride in the world.
Running a hand through his hair to ensure that it was still perfect which, for the record, it was, he grinned at the girl currently manning the ticket booth, setting down a couple of hundred dollar bills and a slip of paper with his number on it because, hey, she wasn't unattractive. "Keep the change, hm, gorgeous? They need it more than us." Who were 'they' again? He hadn't exactly been paying attention to the signs when he'd walked into the place. Poor people were poor people, no matter how you sugar-coated it. He wasn't here to help, he was here to have a good time. There were rumours of a kissing booth, after all, and he couldn't deny an interest in that. Of course, they were generally designed for the sad few freshmen who couldn't get themselves a date of their own accord and barely ever for the high-class and charming boys who could swing a fuck with just a couple of kind words, but there was a certain fun to them and Rafail would most definitely be paying it a visit at some point.
He didn't want to spoil all the fun for himself right away, however. A little mingling was due, a little searching to see who would be the best way to treat himself that evening. Rafail had found himself a glass of wine - it tasted cheaper than what he would have expected from these girls - and made to stand by the staircase, leaning on the bannister where he could get a good view of the entrance and quickly survey any of the guests currently present to see if he would be deeming them worthy of his attention. There were a few cuties flitting about, a couple of exes he could see that wouldn't be all too happy to see him, not that he was at all interested in their feelings, but no one who seemed all that worth talking to right at that moment. Maybe all the girls who were that perfect combination of hot and easy just hadn't arrived yet, following his lead in being just so perfectly late. Or maybe they were in the other rooms, manning the festival activities. It looked as though Rafail was going to have to fight for what he wanted, something he was not a fan of doing. Women were supposed to simply come to him. Luckily, there was bound to be at least one place at this party where all the easy girls and all the naive girls would be headed at some point or another, so he pushed himself off the bannister and started moving down the hallway to find this kissing booth he'd heard so much about. Sure, it went against his plans to visit the best part of the party so early on but, sometimes, you had to make sacrifices to ensure things went the way you had envisioned. Daddy had probably meant that in a completely different, more business orientated sense, but it applied just as easily to this moment.
"Hey, you know where I can find this kissing booth thing?" he asked one of the girls, one of the frumpier ones that you could never be sure of how they'd gotten into the place, an arm snaking around her shoulders in a show of attention he could be sure she'd never received before. She was easily smitten, a light giggle escaping her lips as she appeared to make her own assumptions as to exactly why he wanted the location of the kissing booth.
"D-down, down the hall. You wanted to...go?"
She'd stuttered her response, nodding her head in the direction so many people appeared to be headed. Rafail followed her gesture, noting someone a lot more interesting than this idiot girl moving right where he wanted to go. Looked like this had been just the perfect plot after all. "Mm. Not with you." His attention now pulled away from Miss Dowdy over here, he waved her aside, turning to slide past her and following the gaggle of cheerleaders he'd spotted only a moment ago. Cheerleaders were generally hot and either always easy or always insecure enough that they made for unchallenging prey. And there was one slightly younger looking one that had caught his eye a few times in the past month amongst the group, dressed in shorts and a cute little crop top. There were a lot of girls on the squad that he would have readily done it with but there was something about this particular girl that really did intrigue him more than the regular. You only had to hope that she didn't know his reputation, though that was easier said than done.
Rafail made an obvious beeline towards her, crossing her path to momentarily block the line into the room, resting against the doorframe. Um, okay, maybe not as cute today as he'd seen her be in the past, given that she seemed to be covered in beer? He could more or less piece together what had just happened, given the equally attractive girl currently yet awkwardly hovering behind her wearing not very much. Please, it was almost like this one was asking for it. She wasn't who he'd come for but he could fit her into his plans no problem. Flashing the pair a smile, showing off those bright white teeth made perfect by a multitude of whitening sessions that, in hindsight, had definitely been worth it, no matter what anyone - Daddy, duh - had to say about it, and raised an eyebrow as if expressing his surprise that they would be entering the room behind him, opting to ignore whatever was going on with spillages. Spillages didn't matter in the long term. "You pretty things headed in here? Cos I'm pretty sure the three of us can set up our own kinda kissing booth outside. I didn't see anyone watching that bounce house just now." He flickered his gaze over both of them once more, eyeing his first interest's alcohol stained top and the second's slim figure. Hm. Now he couldn't quite decide which one he was more interested in. "Maybe you get yourself cleaned up and find a couple more of your friends to join us?"
Nicholai Baryshnikov had a secret that he’d kept from all of the friends he’d made in the last three years, one that he fully intended to continue keeping. Once it was revealed people always treated him differently, so he was pleased to just be another student at Aeipathy University. Going to classes, eating in the dining facilities, going to parties, all the normal college stuff he’d never dreamed would be his to experience. He hadn’t gone as far as to take a job, since he had no need to earn money for his tuition or books, but he did his best to keep that from the other members of his fraternity. Nic was dressed in a royal blue polo shirt with a tiny alligator embroidered on the chest, made out of an odd material with a silky sheen to it and a pair of black jeans, lightweight black loafers on his feet. His not quite shoulder length, dark brown hair, streaked from the summer months spent around the pool, tied back in a tail at the nape of his neck.
Making his way up the path towards the TriDelta house, the young political science major, was definitely in the mood to have a good time during this, the first party of the his senior year, for he knew all too well that once his graduated, he’d have to return home to Ryazan, the small principality where he’d been born and raised to take his place as Crown Prince Nicholai Andros Ilyan Baryshnikov of Ryazan. “God.” He muttered as he climbed up the steps towards the front door, “Times like this I wish I wasn’t an only child.” If he’d an elder brother or sister, or even a younger sibling, there wouldn’t have been so much pressure riding on his shoulders all his life. While he was supposed to be just another rich foreigner attending University, Nic was sure that his parents had sent guards to look out for him, though he couldn't say for certain who they might be.
“Oi! Nic!!!”
At the sound of his name being called, Nic turned just in time to catch the football lobbed at him by his friend Achilleas Lasko, the quarterback for the school’s football team. “Good throw!” He called back with a laugh, then threw the ball back. “Going in. I want a drink!” Suiting actions to words, Nic entered the house looking for a drink, but would find much more. In his hunt for a drink, and someone who would tell him where he could buy the tickets to aid the children of St. Judes, Nic’s attention was caught by a young woman who collided with another, spilling the second girl’s drink on her shirt. His eyebrows shot up when the first, a nervous looking underclassmen, stammered an apology before offering the very shirt off of her back. Surely one of them would be able to tell him where he could get a beer. As he appraoched they were joined by a guy who immediately started flirting with the two of them. He slowed his pace a moment, then shrugged continuing on, after all, all he really wanted to know was where to get a drink. “Excuse me.” He murmured, hints of his native tongue flavoring his words, “Any idea where I can get a drink?” He asked, glancing from one member of the little trio to the next.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Nicholai Baryshnikov had a secret that he’d kept from all of the friends he’d made in the last three years, one that he fully intended to continue keeping. Once it was revealed people always treated him differently, so he was pleased to just be another student at Aeipathy University. Going to classes, eating in the dining facilities, going to parties, all the normal college stuff he’d never dreamed would be his to experience. He hadn’t gone as far as to take a job, since he had no need to earn money for his tuition or books, but he did his best to keep that from the other members of his fraternity. Nic was dressed in a royal blue polo shirt with a tiny alligator embroidered on the chest, made out of an odd material with a silky sheen to it and a pair of black jeans, lightweight black loafers on his feet. His not quite shoulder length, dark brown hair, streaked from the summer months spent around the pool, tied back in a tail at the nape of his neck.
Making his way up the path towards the TriDelta house, the young political science major, was definitely in the mood to have a good time during this, the first party of the his senior year, for he knew all too well that once his graduated, he’d have to return home to Ryazan, the small principality where he’d been born and raised to take his place as Crown Prince Nicholai Andros Ilyan Baryshnikov of Ryazan. “God.” He muttered as he climbed up the steps towards the front door, “Times like this I wish I wasn’t an only child.” If he’d an elder brother or sister, or even a younger sibling, there wouldn’t have been so much pressure riding on his shoulders all his life. While he was supposed to be just another rich foreigner attending University, Nic was sure that his parents had sent guards to look out for him, though he couldn't say for certain who they might be.
“Oi! Nic!!!”
At the sound of his name being called, Nic turned just in time to catch the football lobbed at him by his friend Achilleas Lasko, the quarterback for the school’s football team. “Good throw!” He called back with a laugh, then threw the ball back. “Going in. I want a drink!” Suiting actions to words, Nic entered the house looking for a drink, but would find much more. In his hunt for a drink, and someone who would tell him where he could buy the tickets to aid the children of St. Judes, Nic’s attention was caught by a young woman who collided with another, spilling the second girl’s drink on her shirt. His eyebrows shot up when the first, a nervous looking underclassmen, stammered an apology before offering the very shirt off of her back. Surely one of them would be able to tell him where he could get a beer. As he appraoched they were joined by a guy who immediately started flirting with the two of them. He slowed his pace a moment, then shrugged continuing on, after all, all he really wanted to know was where to get a drink. “Excuse me.” He murmured, hints of his native tongue flavoring his words, “Any idea where I can get a drink?” He asked, glancing from one member of the little trio to the next.
Nicholai Baryshnikov had a secret that he’d kept from all of the friends he’d made in the last three years, one that he fully intended to continue keeping. Once it was revealed people always treated him differently, so he was pleased to just be another student at Aeipathy University. Going to classes, eating in the dining facilities, going to parties, all the normal college stuff he’d never dreamed would be his to experience. He hadn’t gone as far as to take a job, since he had no need to earn money for his tuition or books, but he did his best to keep that from the other members of his fraternity. Nic was dressed in a royal blue polo shirt with a tiny alligator embroidered on the chest, made out of an odd material with a silky sheen to it and a pair of black jeans, lightweight black loafers on his feet. His not quite shoulder length, dark brown hair, streaked from the summer months spent around the pool, tied back in a tail at the nape of his neck.
Making his way up the path towards the TriDelta house, the young political science major, was definitely in the mood to have a good time during this, the first party of the his senior year, for he knew all too well that once his graduated, he’d have to return home to Ryazan, the small principality where he’d been born and raised to take his place as Crown Prince Nicholai Andros Ilyan Baryshnikov of Ryazan. “God.” He muttered as he climbed up the steps towards the front door, “Times like this I wish I wasn’t an only child.” If he’d an elder brother or sister, or even a younger sibling, there wouldn’t have been so much pressure riding on his shoulders all his life. While he was supposed to be just another rich foreigner attending University, Nic was sure that his parents had sent guards to look out for him, though he couldn't say for certain who they might be.
“Oi! Nic!!!”
At the sound of his name being called, Nic turned just in time to catch the football lobbed at him by his friend Achilleas Lasko, the quarterback for the school’s football team. “Good throw!” He called back with a laugh, then threw the ball back. “Going in. I want a drink!” Suiting actions to words, Nic entered the house looking for a drink, but would find much more. In his hunt for a drink, and someone who would tell him where he could buy the tickets to aid the children of St. Judes, Nic’s attention was caught by a young woman who collided with another, spilling the second girl’s drink on her shirt. His eyebrows shot up when the first, a nervous looking underclassmen, stammered an apology before offering the very shirt off of her back. Surely one of them would be able to tell him where he could get a beer. As he appraoched they were joined by a guy who immediately started flirting with the two of them. He slowed his pace a moment, then shrugged continuing on, after all, all he really wanted to know was where to get a drink. “Excuse me.” He murmured, hints of his native tongue flavoring his words, “Any idea where I can get a drink?” He asked, glancing from one member of the little trio to the next.
An elderly woman dressed in the finest fare from the 1970s walked with a bit of a limp down the sidewalk, up to the frat house, and into the madness. Her long wispy white hair was pulled back by a cloth head band. Her shirt had a certain bohemian vibe to accompany her brown bell bottoms. She wore a peace sign around her neck, and carried a tray full of Grandma's Very Special Brownies and Cookies...When you were old, nobody suspected a thing, or gave a damn. "Far out, dudes! Far out!" She said quite impressed by the decorum of the place.
Ah yes this was the life! Who said college was just for the youthful? She was a non-trad student, who was going back for her degree in History. She had always wanted a college degree, but couldn't afford it until her late husband Ernie died. Poor dear, but the life insurance policy was nice.
She moved through the crowd just beep boppin along. Occasionally looking to someone and giving them the thumbs up, "Groovey!" She came to the kitchen and set down her tray before grabbing a brownie for herself, and then muttling through the cabinets for a mug, can't have brownies and cookies without tea. A baggie of shrooms jutted out from her pocket.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
An elderly woman dressed in the finest fare from the 1970s walked with a bit of a limp down the sidewalk, up to the frat house, and into the madness. Her long wispy white hair was pulled back by a cloth head band. Her shirt had a certain bohemian vibe to accompany her brown bell bottoms. She wore a peace sign around her neck, and carried a tray full of Grandma's Very Special Brownies and Cookies...When you were old, nobody suspected a thing, or gave a damn. "Far out, dudes! Far out!" She said quite impressed by the decorum of the place.
Ah yes this was the life! Who said college was just for the youthful? She was a non-trad student, who was going back for her degree in History. She had always wanted a college degree, but couldn't afford it until her late husband Ernie died. Poor dear, but the life insurance policy was nice.
She moved through the crowd just beep boppin along. Occasionally looking to someone and giving them the thumbs up, "Groovey!" She came to the kitchen and set down her tray before grabbing a brownie for herself, and then muttling through the cabinets for a mug, can't have brownies and cookies without tea. A baggie of shrooms jutted out from her pocket.
An elderly woman dressed in the finest fare from the 1970s walked with a bit of a limp down the sidewalk, up to the frat house, and into the madness. Her long wispy white hair was pulled back by a cloth head band. Her shirt had a certain bohemian vibe to accompany her brown bell bottoms. She wore a peace sign around her neck, and carried a tray full of Grandma's Very Special Brownies and Cookies...When you were old, nobody suspected a thing, or gave a damn. "Far out, dudes! Far out!" She said quite impressed by the decorum of the place.
Ah yes this was the life! Who said college was just for the youthful? She was a non-trad student, who was going back for her degree in History. She had always wanted a college degree, but couldn't afford it until her late husband Ernie died. Poor dear, but the life insurance policy was nice.
She moved through the crowd just beep boppin along. Occasionally looking to someone and giving them the thumbs up, "Groovey!" She came to the kitchen and set down her tray before grabbing a brownie for herself, and then muttling through the cabinets for a mug, can't have brownies and cookies without tea. A baggie of shrooms jutted out from her pocket.
She laughed as her friends jostled her more, obviously eager for the young beauty of Aeipathy University to be put on the kissing booth. of course, it did not help that men and boys alike were cheering for her. Laughing, the girl was just about to acquiesce to peer pressure, when a sudden shock and jostle to her body made the young girl squeal in shock. The next thing she knew, the cold beer that the other held now sloshed all over her, shocking her skin with the ice cold liquid.
Agape with surprise and horror at how destroyed her outfit now was, Emilia blinked in surprise, at a loss for words as she took in her supposed 'assailant'. Obviosly elder then her, Emilia couldn't think or place her finger on if she's seen this woman before, but it didn't change the fact that her outfit was ruined. Her friends now stood by her side, just as shcoked as she was. Blinking as the other woman stammered what she thought was a reply, Emilia only gave an aghast look when she took off her button top, revealing a tank top and a bra.
She blinked in surprise.
Did she have no tact? "No, please keep it." she muttered, quickly pushing the button up top she had offered back to the girl, as she looked at the mess on the front of her. Before she could even formulate a solution to this however (which was obviously to run back to her dormitory and get a new top - but it would take awhile, since she'll have to shower too with how sticky the beer was making her feel as it dried), another male butted into their conversation, and his words immediately made Emilia groan.
"Look mister, if you want to spew pickup lines, pick a time when your target is not covered in alcohol for the wrong reasons." she shot back, obviously in a dark mood due to the turn of events. "And the bounce house is not somewhere I intend to make out with someone." the girl muttered in distaste, sighing as she gave herself another look.
"I'll have to go back and change. You... may want to get away from this sleazeball." Emilia offered the blonde, giving the intruding male a sidelong glance that obviously meant she wanted no conversation with him. With another wave and murmur to her friends, the young girl made her way out of the house and through the throngs of people arriving at the party, intending to quickly jog back and change, before she returned to the party.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
This character is currently a work in progress.
Check out their information page here.
Badges
Deleted
Deleted
She laughed as her friends jostled her more, obviously eager for the young beauty of Aeipathy University to be put on the kissing booth. of course, it did not help that men and boys alike were cheering for her. Laughing, the girl was just about to acquiesce to peer pressure, when a sudden shock and jostle to her body made the young girl squeal in shock. The next thing she knew, the cold beer that the other held now sloshed all over her, shocking her skin with the ice cold liquid.
Agape with surprise and horror at how destroyed her outfit now was, Emilia blinked in surprise, at a loss for words as she took in her supposed 'assailant'. Obviosly elder then her, Emilia couldn't think or place her finger on if she's seen this woman before, but it didn't change the fact that her outfit was ruined. Her friends now stood by her side, just as shcoked as she was. Blinking as the other woman stammered what she thought was a reply, Emilia only gave an aghast look when she took off her button top, revealing a tank top and a bra.
She blinked in surprise.
Did she have no tact? "No, please keep it." she muttered, quickly pushing the button up top she had offered back to the girl, as she looked at the mess on the front of her. Before she could even formulate a solution to this however (which was obviously to run back to her dormitory and get a new top - but it would take awhile, since she'll have to shower too with how sticky the beer was making her feel as it dried), another male butted into their conversation, and his words immediately made Emilia groan.
"Look mister, if you want to spew pickup lines, pick a time when your target is not covered in alcohol for the wrong reasons." she shot back, obviously in a dark mood due to the turn of events. "And the bounce house is not somewhere I intend to make out with someone." the girl muttered in distaste, sighing as she gave herself another look.
"I'll have to go back and change. You... may want to get away from this sleazeball." Emilia offered the blonde, giving the intruding male a sidelong glance that obviously meant she wanted no conversation with him. With another wave and murmur to her friends, the young girl made her way out of the house and through the throngs of people arriving at the party, intending to quickly jog back and change, before she returned to the party.
She laughed as her friends jostled her more, obviously eager for the young beauty of Aeipathy University to be put on the kissing booth. of course, it did not help that men and boys alike were cheering for her. Laughing, the girl was just about to acquiesce to peer pressure, when a sudden shock and jostle to her body made the young girl squeal in shock. The next thing she knew, the cold beer that the other held now sloshed all over her, shocking her skin with the ice cold liquid.
Agape with surprise and horror at how destroyed her outfit now was, Emilia blinked in surprise, at a loss for words as she took in her supposed 'assailant'. Obviosly elder then her, Emilia couldn't think or place her finger on if she's seen this woman before, but it didn't change the fact that her outfit was ruined. Her friends now stood by her side, just as shcoked as she was. Blinking as the other woman stammered what she thought was a reply, Emilia only gave an aghast look when she took off her button top, revealing a tank top and a bra.
She blinked in surprise.
Did she have no tact? "No, please keep it." she muttered, quickly pushing the button up top she had offered back to the girl, as she looked at the mess on the front of her. Before she could even formulate a solution to this however (which was obviously to run back to her dormitory and get a new top - but it would take awhile, since she'll have to shower too with how sticky the beer was making her feel as it dried), another male butted into their conversation, and his words immediately made Emilia groan.
"Look mister, if you want to spew pickup lines, pick a time when your target is not covered in alcohol for the wrong reasons." she shot back, obviously in a dark mood due to the turn of events. "And the bounce house is not somewhere I intend to make out with someone." the girl muttered in distaste, sighing as she gave herself another look.
"I'll have to go back and change. You... may want to get away from this sleazeball." Emilia offered the blonde, giving the intruding male a sidelong glance that obviously meant she wanted no conversation with him. With another wave and murmur to her friends, the young girl made her way out of the house and through the throngs of people arriving at the party, intending to quickly jog back and change, before she returned to the party.
Dawn gave a hurried nod as the cheerleader looked at her with distaste and responded with disinterest to the kind act. Great, college had barely even started and it was already starting to feel a lot like high school. She went to quickly put her shirt back on though she didn't button it up. Instead she slipped by the perverted guy muttering a, "Not interested," and then went to move past the guy sporting the latest and greatest from his country club?
Her dark brown eyes caught Nic's briefly, "Beer, uhm, this..." She stopped trying to speak and simply began heading out back where the fridge with all the beer was. The second she she got her hands on one, she opened it and chugged it, like a champ really. It's amazing what drowning one humiliation can do. A bit of beer dribbled down her cheek and onto her tank top as she lowered the empty can and took a breathe. She wiped her face with her arm. "Ok...ok...still not feeling better, I need another." She said giving a nod. "Yep one more..." Or two or three or could she just forget this whole night? That would be great!
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Dawn gave a hurried nod as the cheerleader looked at her with distaste and responded with disinterest to the kind act. Great, college had barely even started and it was already starting to feel a lot like high school. She went to quickly put her shirt back on though she didn't button it up. Instead she slipped by the perverted guy muttering a, "Not interested," and then went to move past the guy sporting the latest and greatest from his country club?
Her dark brown eyes caught Nic's briefly, "Beer, uhm, this..." She stopped trying to speak and simply began heading out back where the fridge with all the beer was. The second she she got her hands on one, she opened it and chugged it, like a champ really. It's amazing what drowning one humiliation can do. A bit of beer dribbled down her cheek and onto her tank top as she lowered the empty can and took a breathe. She wiped her face with her arm. "Ok...ok...still not feeling better, I need another." She said giving a nod. "Yep one more..." Or two or three or could she just forget this whole night? That would be great!
Dawn gave a hurried nod as the cheerleader looked at her with distaste and responded with disinterest to the kind act. Great, college had barely even started and it was already starting to feel a lot like high school. She went to quickly put her shirt back on though she didn't button it up. Instead she slipped by the perverted guy muttering a, "Not interested," and then went to move past the guy sporting the latest and greatest from his country club?
Her dark brown eyes caught Nic's briefly, "Beer, uhm, this..." She stopped trying to speak and simply began heading out back where the fridge with all the beer was. The second she she got her hands on one, she opened it and chugged it, like a champ really. It's amazing what drowning one humiliation can do. A bit of beer dribbled down her cheek and onto her tank top as she lowered the empty can and took a breathe. She wiped her face with her arm. "Ok...ok...still not feeling better, I need another." She said giving a nod. "Yep one more..." Or two or three or could she just forget this whole night? That would be great!
Everyone knew of Belen Ridley. He was the guy you went to when you wanted something, how that something was acquired, well people didn't know, however most knew it was less than legal. Belen Ridley was a thief, and a good one at that. He wouldn't steal for his class mates, but he could, he could steal your stuff right under your nose and you would never know, which made people wary of his presence. But for as much as people knew of Belen, no one knew Belen.
Belen was someone who had just started their first senior year at Aeipathy University, and with that came very very little time to himself. With that it was even a surprise that he was coming to a party like this. Belen was never one to go out, for multiple reason. The first reason being, when he first decided to go to this college there was a large mist of doubt hanging over him and his mother. That was if his father didn't cut in paying for his tuition, perhaps the only thing the man was good for after his little affair was found off and he ran back to England where all his old money lied. However due to this, Belen became a hard worker, working three jobs on the weekend to get whatever money he could. Second reason he didn't go out much was his studies, whatever time he didn't spend working, he spent studying or training in the Ares Gym, which lead to it being his second home besides his dusty dorm. Majoring in Athletic Training and Architecture left him with very little time to go out and party.
So that lead to the question. Why was he here? Simple, Belen was over worked. When training he quickly lost his excitement and that push he once had, and when studying the words seemed to crawl up the pages, while the shapes seemed to mould themselves into odd angles. Belen's theory was he just needed a night, just one to let go. One night with a bit of excitement where he could cut loose and just live a little before cramming himself back in one room.
Arriving at the party, with a hand full of tickets shoved down into his pocket, Belen thought of himself to be dressed rather casually, well anyone was dressed rather casually compared to the guy who stood in front of him. Dressed in a suit to a frat? Seemed a bit over excessive, however Belen wasn't one to judge. Well not until he saw the guy advance over too a pair of girls, one who his keen eyes saw to have spilt a something over herself. Probably a beer by the way she was stripping already. He just watched the guy in the suit stand over at the girls before rolling his eyes. He just couldn't wait to see how many girls he wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. Belen estimated at least six.
Wondering through the party, he found himself in an awkward postition, surrounded by people, in a noisy crowded area. Not the best place, Belen though, as he soon squeezed his way out back, eventually finding the fridge. Alcohol. Alcohol was needed if he wanted to get into the spirit of the party. With a hand reached out to open the door, he quickly took a step back as the women he saw early, stripping, suddenly threw open the door grabbing a beer and downing it in one. Belen just looked at the women pretty shocked by the sudden ordeal. Hearing her mutter about needing more, Belen looked up, reaching into the fridge and grabbing himself a beer. "I'd slow it down on drinks, don't want to be that one person who gets pissed before everyone arrives." Belen chuckled before cracking the can open, only to act like a minor hypocrite, downing half the can in one swig.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Everyone knew of Belen Ridley. He was the guy you went to when you wanted something, how that something was acquired, well people didn't know, however most knew it was less than legal. Belen Ridley was a thief, and a good one at that. He wouldn't steal for his class mates, but he could, he could steal your stuff right under your nose and you would never know, which made people wary of his presence. But for as much as people knew of Belen, no one knew Belen.
Belen was someone who had just started their first senior year at Aeipathy University, and with that came very very little time to himself. With that it was even a surprise that he was coming to a party like this. Belen was never one to go out, for multiple reason. The first reason being, when he first decided to go to this college there was a large mist of doubt hanging over him and his mother. That was if his father didn't cut in paying for his tuition, perhaps the only thing the man was good for after his little affair was found off and he ran back to England where all his old money lied. However due to this, Belen became a hard worker, working three jobs on the weekend to get whatever money he could. Second reason he didn't go out much was his studies, whatever time he didn't spend working, he spent studying or training in the Ares Gym, which lead to it being his second home besides his dusty dorm. Majoring in Athletic Training and Architecture left him with very little time to go out and party.
So that lead to the question. Why was he here? Simple, Belen was over worked. When training he quickly lost his excitement and that push he once had, and when studying the words seemed to crawl up the pages, while the shapes seemed to mould themselves into odd angles. Belen's theory was he just needed a night, just one to let go. One night with a bit of excitement where he could cut loose and just live a little before cramming himself back in one room.
Arriving at the party, with a hand full of tickets shoved down into his pocket, Belen thought of himself to be dressed rather casually, well anyone was dressed rather casually compared to the guy who stood in front of him. Dressed in a suit to a frat? Seemed a bit over excessive, however Belen wasn't one to judge. Well not until he saw the guy advance over too a pair of girls, one who his keen eyes saw to have spilt a something over herself. Probably a beer by the way she was stripping already. He just watched the guy in the suit stand over at the girls before rolling his eyes. He just couldn't wait to see how many girls he wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. Belen estimated at least six.
Wondering through the party, he found himself in an awkward postition, surrounded by people, in a noisy crowded area. Not the best place, Belen though, as he soon squeezed his way out back, eventually finding the fridge. Alcohol. Alcohol was needed if he wanted to get into the spirit of the party. With a hand reached out to open the door, he quickly took a step back as the women he saw early, stripping, suddenly threw open the door grabbing a beer and downing it in one. Belen just looked at the women pretty shocked by the sudden ordeal. Hearing her mutter about needing more, Belen looked up, reaching into the fridge and grabbing himself a beer. "I'd slow it down on drinks, don't want to be that one person who gets pissed before everyone arrives." Belen chuckled before cracking the can open, only to act like a minor hypocrite, downing half the can in one swig.
Everyone knew of Belen Ridley. He was the guy you went to when you wanted something, how that something was acquired, well people didn't know, however most knew it was less than legal. Belen Ridley was a thief, and a good one at that. He wouldn't steal for his class mates, but he could, he could steal your stuff right under your nose and you would never know, which made people wary of his presence. But for as much as people knew of Belen, no one knew Belen.
Belen was someone who had just started their first senior year at Aeipathy University, and with that came very very little time to himself. With that it was even a surprise that he was coming to a party like this. Belen was never one to go out, for multiple reason. The first reason being, when he first decided to go to this college there was a large mist of doubt hanging over him and his mother. That was if his father didn't cut in paying for his tuition, perhaps the only thing the man was good for after his little affair was found off and he ran back to England where all his old money lied. However due to this, Belen became a hard worker, working three jobs on the weekend to get whatever money he could. Second reason he didn't go out much was his studies, whatever time he didn't spend working, he spent studying or training in the Ares Gym, which lead to it being his second home besides his dusty dorm. Majoring in Athletic Training and Architecture left him with very little time to go out and party.
So that lead to the question. Why was he here? Simple, Belen was over worked. When training he quickly lost his excitement and that push he once had, and when studying the words seemed to crawl up the pages, while the shapes seemed to mould themselves into odd angles. Belen's theory was he just needed a night, just one to let go. One night with a bit of excitement where he could cut loose and just live a little before cramming himself back in one room.
Arriving at the party, with a hand full of tickets shoved down into his pocket, Belen thought of himself to be dressed rather casually, well anyone was dressed rather casually compared to the guy who stood in front of him. Dressed in a suit to a frat? Seemed a bit over excessive, however Belen wasn't one to judge. Well not until he saw the guy advance over too a pair of girls, one who his keen eyes saw to have spilt a something over herself. Probably a beer by the way she was stripping already. He just watched the guy in the suit stand over at the girls before rolling his eyes. He just couldn't wait to see how many girls he wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. Belen estimated at least six.
Wondering through the party, he found himself in an awkward postition, surrounded by people, in a noisy crowded area. Not the best place, Belen though, as he soon squeezed his way out back, eventually finding the fridge. Alcohol. Alcohol was needed if he wanted to get into the spirit of the party. With a hand reached out to open the door, he quickly took a step back as the women he saw early, stripping, suddenly threw open the door grabbing a beer and downing it in one. Belen just looked at the women pretty shocked by the sudden ordeal. Hearing her mutter about needing more, Belen looked up, reaching into the fridge and grabbing himself a beer. "I'd slow it down on drinks, don't want to be that one person who gets pissed before everyone arrives." Belen chuckled before cracking the can open, only to act like a minor hypocrite, downing half the can in one swig.
Nic smiled down at her, incling his head ever so slightly as he followed her to where he hoped to get a beer. When they got out back where the beers were cooling in the fridge, he started to introduce himself to her. Only to be cut off by another man who stepped into the room, cautioning Dawn about drinking even as he quaffed half his beer, totally ignoring Nic’s presence. Nic had been about to say something similar to the young woman, but given how pompous Belen had sounded was glad he’d been beaten to the punch.
“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” Nic said mildly, getting a beer for himself, then offered his hand to Dawn, with a smile, “Thanks for the tour.” Dawn's beer trickled down her face and she swiped at it with her arm, Nic started to reach for a handkerchief, then remembered he wasn’t dressed formally and hadn’t brought one. His gaze dropped as a drop of her beer trickled down onto her tank, then he pulled his eyes back to her face, his hand still extended for hers.
When she put her cold fingers in his, he bowed slightly from the waist, kissing her knuckles. It might’ve seemed contrived, but since he’d been raised in a culture where it was common, he managed it with a grace that transcended any cheesiness to the move. Straightening, he nodded to both Dawn and Belen. “If you’ll excuse me. I should go and find my friends.” Retreating, Nic slipped from the room, moving to a spot where he could sip his beer and keep an eye on Dawn, just in case. She had downed that beer pretty quickly, and he doubted she’d been practically weaned on vodka as he’d been.
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Nic smiled down at her, incling his head ever so slightly as he followed her to where he hoped to get a beer. When they got out back where the beers were cooling in the fridge, he started to introduce himself to her. Only to be cut off by another man who stepped into the room, cautioning Dawn about drinking even as he quaffed half his beer, totally ignoring Nic’s presence. Nic had been about to say something similar to the young woman, but given how pompous Belen had sounded was glad he’d been beaten to the punch.
“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” Nic said mildly, getting a beer for himself, then offered his hand to Dawn, with a smile, “Thanks for the tour.” Dawn's beer trickled down her face and she swiped at it with her arm, Nic started to reach for a handkerchief, then remembered he wasn’t dressed formally and hadn’t brought one. His gaze dropped as a drop of her beer trickled down onto her tank, then he pulled his eyes back to her face, his hand still extended for hers.
When she put her cold fingers in his, he bowed slightly from the waist, kissing her knuckles. It might’ve seemed contrived, but since he’d been raised in a culture where it was common, he managed it with a grace that transcended any cheesiness to the move. Straightening, he nodded to both Dawn and Belen. “If you’ll excuse me. I should go and find my friends.” Retreating, Nic slipped from the room, moving to a spot where he could sip his beer and keep an eye on Dawn, just in case. She had downed that beer pretty quickly, and he doubted she’d been practically weaned on vodka as he’d been.
Nic smiled down at her, incling his head ever so slightly as he followed her to where he hoped to get a beer. When they got out back where the beers were cooling in the fridge, he started to introduce himself to her. Only to be cut off by another man who stepped into the room, cautioning Dawn about drinking even as he quaffed half his beer, totally ignoring Nic’s presence. Nic had been about to say something similar to the young woman, but given how pompous Belen had sounded was glad he’d been beaten to the punch.
“I’m sure she knows what she’s doing.” Nic said mildly, getting a beer for himself, then offered his hand to Dawn, with a smile, “Thanks for the tour.” Dawn's beer trickled down her face and she swiped at it with her arm, Nic started to reach for a handkerchief, then remembered he wasn’t dressed formally and hadn’t brought one. His gaze dropped as a drop of her beer trickled down onto her tank, then he pulled his eyes back to her face, his hand still extended for hers.
When she put her cold fingers in his, he bowed slightly from the waist, kissing her knuckles. It might’ve seemed contrived, but since he’d been raised in a culture where it was common, he managed it with a grace that transcended any cheesiness to the move. Straightening, he nodded to both Dawn and Belen. “If you’ll excuse me. I should go and find my friends.” Retreating, Nic slipped from the room, moving to a spot where he could sip his beer and keep an eye on Dawn, just in case. She had downed that beer pretty quickly, and he doubted she’d been practically weaned on vodka as he’d been.
Dawn filled with some liquid courage shot a glare at Belen, "I believe the seating for the peanut gallery is anywhere but here, and your one to talk." She snatched up another beer. Perhaps it was because she wanted another one, perhaps it was just in defiance of Belens words. Then Nic, the guy she lead here spoke up, "What he said!" She added her bravery growing as she became infused with alcohol. Truth be told she was a light weight and had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She cracked the next can open and tossed it back only to find Nic putting his hand out before her. She paused mid chug. She lowered the beer and just sort of stared at the hand for a moment.
She supposed she should do the good American thing and shake it? She put her hand in his and then he, kissed it? Her gaze went from him, then to her beer, what was she drinking? "Uh...welcome?" She said as she watched the gentleman walk away and then looked to Belen, who she didn't know from Adam, "Hey peanut gallery, did that just," burp, "happen? Heh..uhm excuse, uhm me." She blushed and went to cover her face. She went to divert her gaze back to her drink. "Uhm...this is just beer-- right?" Her tongue rolled across her lips as she tried to work out the ingredients head tilted ever slight to the side. Did things always happen like this with beer? Was this normal? She only snuck liquor out of her aunt's cabinet once with her girl friends. Not enough to get drunk off of.
She shook her head and looked to Belen. This had to be the strangest night ever. Forget the carnival she had joined a circus. If he was even still there she'd ask at random, "If you were in the circus, what act would you be?" Beer apparently also made her more sociable and happy? She took an actual sip for once, and tried to ignore the fact that it felt like that guy was still looking at her. Was it weird if she asked this other guy if that guy was still staring at her? How did one behave at these things? She didn't know, the closest thing she came to a party in high school was going out to pancake house after the closing night performance of whatever play Drama Club was putting on.
She was going to try this though. She was going to give it a shot. Oh how many of these did she have to drink before she just forgot, woke up, and it was morning?
JD
Staff Team
JD
Staff Team
This post was created by our staff team.
Please contact us with your queries and questions.
Dawn filled with some liquid courage shot a glare at Belen, "I believe the seating for the peanut gallery is anywhere but here, and your one to talk." She snatched up another beer. Perhaps it was because she wanted another one, perhaps it was just in defiance of Belens words. Then Nic, the guy she lead here spoke up, "What he said!" She added her bravery growing as she became infused with alcohol. Truth be told she was a light weight and had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She cracked the next can open and tossed it back only to find Nic putting his hand out before her. She paused mid chug. She lowered the beer and just sort of stared at the hand for a moment.
She supposed she should do the good American thing and shake it? She put her hand in his and then he, kissed it? Her gaze went from him, then to her beer, what was she drinking? "Uh...welcome?" She said as she watched the gentleman walk away and then looked to Belen, who she didn't know from Adam, "Hey peanut gallery, did that just," burp, "happen? Heh..uhm excuse, uhm me." She blushed and went to cover her face. She went to divert her gaze back to her drink. "Uhm...this is just beer-- right?" Her tongue rolled across her lips as she tried to work out the ingredients head tilted ever slight to the side. Did things always happen like this with beer? Was this normal? She only snuck liquor out of her aunt's cabinet once with her girl friends. Not enough to get drunk off of.
She shook her head and looked to Belen. This had to be the strangest night ever. Forget the carnival she had joined a circus. If he was even still there she'd ask at random, "If you were in the circus, what act would you be?" Beer apparently also made her more sociable and happy? She took an actual sip for once, and tried to ignore the fact that it felt like that guy was still looking at her. Was it weird if she asked this other guy if that guy was still staring at her? How did one behave at these things? She didn't know, the closest thing she came to a party in high school was going out to pancake house after the closing night performance of whatever play Drama Club was putting on.
She was going to try this though. She was going to give it a shot. Oh how many of these did she have to drink before she just forgot, woke up, and it was morning?
Dawn filled with some liquid courage shot a glare at Belen, "I believe the seating for the peanut gallery is anywhere but here, and your one to talk." She snatched up another beer. Perhaps it was because she wanted another one, perhaps it was just in defiance of Belens words. Then Nic, the guy she lead here spoke up, "What he said!" She added her bravery growing as she became infused with alcohol. Truth be told she was a light weight and had absolutely no idea what she was doing. She cracked the next can open and tossed it back only to find Nic putting his hand out before her. She paused mid chug. She lowered the beer and just sort of stared at the hand for a moment.
She supposed she should do the good American thing and shake it? She put her hand in his and then he, kissed it? Her gaze went from him, then to her beer, what was she drinking? "Uh...welcome?" She said as she watched the gentleman walk away and then looked to Belen, who she didn't know from Adam, "Hey peanut gallery, did that just," burp, "happen? Heh..uhm excuse, uhm me." She blushed and went to cover her face. She went to divert her gaze back to her drink. "Uhm...this is just beer-- right?" Her tongue rolled across her lips as she tried to work out the ingredients head tilted ever slight to the side. Did things always happen like this with beer? Was this normal? She only snuck liquor out of her aunt's cabinet once with her girl friends. Not enough to get drunk off of.
She shook her head and looked to Belen. This had to be the strangest night ever. Forget the carnival she had joined a circus. If he was even still there she'd ask at random, "If you were in the circus, what act would you be?" Beer apparently also made her more sociable and happy? She took an actual sip for once, and tried to ignore the fact that it felt like that guy was still looking at her. Was it weird if she asked this other guy if that guy was still staring at her? How did one behave at these things? She didn't know, the closest thing she came to a party in high school was going out to pancake house after the closing night performance of whatever play Drama Club was putting on.
She was going to try this though. She was going to give it a shot. Oh how many of these did she have to drink before she just forgot, woke up, and it was morning?