The wind prickled at her neck. Clarissa stopped for a brief moment, her fingers half buried in the mess of a cheerleading outfit when the cardinal directions in her body switched up. Her attention briefly pointing somewhere else, as if someone had clapped for her attention.
There was nobody around. She relaxed as quickly as she'd tensed up. The desert air was just a bit too dry, snapping across her skin like a whip.
[Clarissa Shoemaker, Pregame Thread 1]
[Set in Mid January 2025]
The top of Clarissa's Mustang was down. She realized in hindsight that she regretted that, even with an extra sweater on. The sun in the clear sky had betrayed her with the promise that she'd need sunscreen, when it was actually a day where the trees danced in the wind. Well, okay, she needed the sunscreen anyways even if it was cold. That was how it worked, she was pretty sure. Sun out, sticky stuff on. She didn't like how lotion-y things clung to her, but even more than that she hated her roasty skin flaking off for a week straight.
The gray car- not her preferred color, but she'd grown attached to it knowing it since she'd been, like, seven years old- rocked a bit as Clarissa straighted up from where she'd been bent peering into the backseat. Clarissa finished folding her gently used uniform and depositing it into the back seat. She settled back into the driver's seat, song she knew the lyrics to playing through the plastic husk of her wireless earbuds loud enough that she could only barely make out that she existed in a public space.
She looked around again, this time slower, more relaxed. There were people around, but not near enough that she'd had to quickly remember faces or the names that belonged to them. A few Red Rocks kids were milling around their own cars, grabbing their equipment, chatting. Little souls with big eyes meandering in and out of the gym.
She couldn't see other cheerleaders. Maybe she was the last one to leave after practice had finished today.
The baseball cage was the nearest landmark she'd parked to, just on the other side of the curb from her. She relaxed in her seat, slouching onto one shoulder and glancing at the quiet green. She actually wasn't sure if there was any baseball practice scheduled for today. Season wouldn't start until March so she didn't really have a reason to be hanging out on the diamond until then. But. Familiar territory. She knew most of the boys and most of them knew her. They probably said things about her but she didn't really care to know what they were. Clarissa preferred not thinking about that kind of thing. It kept her mental hygeine cleaner, clean as she liked to keep her car.
She glanced through her phone. She closed YouTube before she could scroll through her latest recommends from Boffy and Torchy. She opened Messenger, musing as she continued to instinctively curl up to trap the warmth in a shell protected by her body. She had nothing to do now that practice was done. Maybe she'd check if any friends needed her to drive them anywhere? Clarissa fingered rotely through the wall of familiar names.
any color the customer wants as long as its any color the customer wants
school parking lot after hours (thread concluded)
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LYourLocalAutist
- Posts: 260
- Joined: Sun May 19, 2024 2:50 pm
- Location: IN YOUR HEAAAAD IN YOUR HEAAAAAAAAD ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE-E-E
A familiar contact was suddenly and prominently shoved through the mountain of names up to its peak. This was on account of the brand new message, the notification of which reverberated through Clarissa's phone, and her hand by extension, along with some attention-catching sound effect ringing out. These effects would serve to draw her eyes up to said brand new message, and the contact it belonged to.
1 - itsspelledsylvie
Tapping the little bar she had all to herself quickly unveiled the nature of her friend's message to her.
Clarissa are you available??
Another few messages popped up in short order before she had the chance to reply.
You and your car tho I think that's the default
Listen the point is I stayed behind with Coach to discuss the new semester training schedules
And. Kinda missed my bus home
I was just wondering if you could be my ride home today if that's not too much trouble
Some ways up from Clarissa's position, failing to notice her through the other present students and cars, shouldering the burden of a school bag and a gym bag, walked a small woman in a thick, comfy sweater. She'd just then exited the gym building, and wore a worried expression which stared down at her phone.
[SYLVIE RATTRAY-AUBERT: PREGAME START]
Sylvie shivered nearly on contact with the outside, despite her season-appropriate clothing. She had very little upper-body fat to speak of to resist the cold. She would've made a terrible Neanderthal. She did not stop to pay much attention to the brilliant sun hanging in the winter sky, but acknowledged it nonetheless. Thank God, there was still time to not really have to worry about the sun and the six to ten months of unimpeded malice it would soon bring onto her and all of Las Vegas. She took a shuddering breath through her scarf and briefly admired the pretty shapes of warm breath against cold air before turning her worries back to her phone.
It was quite a long way from Southwest Red Rock to Silver Springs and for some ungodly reason full hours between buses between them. She began to wonder if she couldn't have just emailed Coach Harper about her issues with the new schedule instead of staying behind to talk to her. An email wouldn't leave her barely minutes late. She'd considered her options; her parents were basically guaranteed to be working on something, be it at home or the office. Thus, she turned to the next best thing: friends she knew had a car.
Clarissa was the first person she texted. Clarissa was into into cars, and she'd seen her leave the gym not a few minutes before her. Surely, she thought to herself, she'd be available. Nonetheless, a nagging voice sounded out in the back of her head, telling her she should just drop it, to stop bothering people. She pushed it back before it could go any further. Clarissa was one of her oldest and best friends, she could come to her with something like this. So, she awaited Clarissa's response, albeit uneasily.
1 - itsspelledsylvie
Tapping the little bar she had all to herself quickly unveiled the nature of her friend's message to her.
Clarissa are you available??
Another few messages popped up in short order before she had the chance to reply.
You and your car tho I think that's the default
Listen the point is I stayed behind with Coach to discuss the new semester training schedules
And. Kinda missed my bus home
I was just wondering if you could be my ride home today if that's not too much trouble
Some ways up from Clarissa's position, failing to notice her through the other present students and cars, shouldering the burden of a school bag and a gym bag, walked a small woman in a thick, comfy sweater. She'd just then exited the gym building, and wore a worried expression which stared down at her phone.
[SYLVIE RATTRAY-AUBERT: PREGAME START]
Sylvie shivered nearly on contact with the outside, despite her season-appropriate clothing. She had very little upper-body fat to speak of to resist the cold. She would've made a terrible Neanderthal. She did not stop to pay much attention to the brilliant sun hanging in the winter sky, but acknowledged it nonetheless. Thank God, there was still time to not really have to worry about the sun and the six to ten months of unimpeded malice it would soon bring onto her and all of Las Vegas. She took a shuddering breath through her scarf and briefly admired the pretty shapes of warm breath against cold air before turning her worries back to her phone.
It was quite a long way from Southwest Red Rock to Silver Springs and for some ungodly reason full hours between buses between them. She began to wonder if she couldn't have just emailed Coach Harper about her issues with the new schedule instead of staying behind to talk to her. An email wouldn't leave her barely minutes late. She'd considered her options; her parents were basically guaranteed to be working on something, be it at home or the office. Thus, she turned to the next best thing: friends she knew had a car.
Clarissa was the first person she texted. Clarissa was into into cars, and she'd seen her leave the gym not a few minutes before her. Surely, she thought to herself, she'd be available. Nonetheless, a nagging voice sounded out in the back of her head, telling her she should just drop it, to stop bothering people. She pushed it back before it could go any further. Clarissa was one of her oldest and best friends, she could come to her with something like this. So, she awaited Clarissa's response, albeit uneasily.
The V9 Children themselves:
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
"Ahuh... Ahuh... Yes, I saw the photos you sent me... Okay look, Mom, if I see any signs of infection you'll be the first to know OK?"
((Marcy Valerio continued from NC-21))
Marcy raised her knee as she leant back against her locker, reaching down to rub it through the fabric of her thermal leggings. Felt fine. She was fine. Her legs were aching because she had been practicing hard all afternoon, thats all. The cold probably didn't help either. Chilled to the bone, as the saying goes.
"I gotta go catch the bus now, so I'll talk to you more when I get home.. Ahuh, ahuh... Yeah love you too Mom, bye" Marcy replied, rolling her eyes as she ended the call. God, she wished her Mom would shut up about her new piercing already. It was funny to begin with, but christ had it gotten old real fast.
She sighed, tapping away at her phone some more as she started making her way outside. When was the next bus to Silver Springs... An hour!? Fuck's sake. Normally she'd just hit up Finn for a lift, but he was gonna be busy that afternoon and she didn't want to impose.
Well, nothing to it then. Her eyes started scanning the crowd, seeing if there was anyone about she could go pester for an hour. She was pretty sure some of the other cheerleaders were still about, such as...
Bingo! Marcy recognised those red bow tips anywhere, just barely poking above the crowd like a pair of rabbit ears. She swiftly weaved her way through a sea of students, sticking out amongst them with her pink bob and oversized hoodie, before eventually closing in on her fellow flyer.
"Hey, Sylvs!" she called out, waving hello as she approached. "Missed the bus too, huh?"
((Marcy Valerio continued from NC-21))
Marcy raised her knee as she leant back against her locker, reaching down to rub it through the fabric of her thermal leggings. Felt fine. She was fine. Her legs were aching because she had been practicing hard all afternoon, thats all. The cold probably didn't help either. Chilled to the bone, as the saying goes.
"I gotta go catch the bus now, so I'll talk to you more when I get home.. Ahuh, ahuh... Yeah love you too Mom, bye" Marcy replied, rolling her eyes as she ended the call. God, she wished her Mom would shut up about her new piercing already. It was funny to begin with, but christ had it gotten old real fast.
She sighed, tapping away at her phone some more as she started making her way outside. When was the next bus to Silver Springs... An hour!? Fuck's sake. Normally she'd just hit up Finn for a lift, but he was gonna be busy that afternoon and she didn't want to impose.
Well, nothing to it then. Her eyes started scanning the crowd, seeing if there was anyone about she could go pester for an hour. She was pretty sure some of the other cheerleaders were still about, such as...
Bingo! Marcy recognised those red bow tips anywhere, just barely poking above the crowd like a pair of rabbit ears. She swiftly weaved her way through a sea of students, sticking out amongst them with her pink bob and oversized hoodie, before eventually closing in on her fellow flyer.
"Hey, Sylvs!" she called out, waving hello as she approached. "Missed the bus too, huh?"
Clarissa didn't remember, like, why one of her besties had ended up as itsspelledsylvie on her phone. As far as she remembered she hadn't gotten the joke even when it had been fresh, once upon a time. Like. It had been a joke? That kind of joke.
always!
Well trained fingers fired semi auto. Clarissa was already looking around for a familiar color of blond cutely tied up by a red gift bow.
always avail
legit your mom told me she knows when its me versus any other car
Which was pretty impressive! Clarissa hadn't modded her exhaust so it was still quiet by the standards of the brand. Clarissa herself could barely hear her own car unless she pushed the accelerator hard, which she never wanted to do in city limits because ouch it was loud and she didn't want to be rude to others.
Clarissa spotted a smol girl. She had large and pretty eyes, kind of mute in color. Her fit looked flattering and well chosen. Plus a scarf, one of those types of clothes Clarissa forgot the existence of unless one of her fashion smart friends reminded her- Kiandra her beloved, etc. Smol girl was a very familar sight. The bow, it was always the bow. A moment of processing and then another moment of making sure, even when it was a face and a shilouette she'd known most of her life.
Sylvie!
Clarissa waved her friend over redundantly while she excised herself from her ride. Eager, but careful to take her keys. Not careful enough to remember to pause her playlist, the song fizzling away as her phone, also forgotten, became an object in her rear view mirror not closer than it appeared. She started to bound over to her friend, galloping two left feet at a time. Sylvie was staring at her phone intently like she was trying to melt it with eye lasers. Her lips were frozen shut even when she breathed out cold mist clouds. She was stressed out about something. That happened sometimes when Sylvie was asking a favor. Even when Clarissa loved driving her around and offered to do it, like, all the time. She probably would have sent a message if Sylvie hadn't done it first. It was one of those little things Clarissa didn't really get.
"Sylvie-!"
Clarissa remembered to breathe. Or like, her brain remembered it for her. Her focus split like a banana as she suddenly had more things to pay attention to.
Fit girl. Broad shoulders. Eyes that could put a bullet in an opp. Cute combo of comfy looking leggings and kinda short shorts. Pink hair like popping Dubble Bubble. It was the hair- it used to be something else, but now the hair was the easiest thing to make everything instantly click. She was another familiar face belonging to an also friend.
Marcy!
Now it was a party. Not that it hadn't been a party but now it was more of one.
Clarissa finished stampeding up the walkway towards the one girl who had been lugging around bags Clarissa had wanted to help with, who had become two girls the moment Clarissa had closed her eyes. Clarissa was still kinda fixated on the whole helping Sylvie thing. Her half finished thought continued out of her mouth, speed of sound faster than speed of thought.
"Sylvie! Do you need help with those?" And then immediately after, with the same breath,
"Also hi Marcy. Do you also need a ride? I know you didn't ask but." It seemed obvious. Usually Clarissa was good at figuring out things when they were obvious.
Clarissa rubbed at the suddenly itchy wind-kissed spot on her cheek, which to an observer was now even more like a bee sting impact than the usual ruddiness of her complexion. She smiled as she flashed her accessory for the day- silver chain bracelet, she remembered the exact store and date she'd thrifted it with Sylvie the row over looking at other stuff.
always!
Well trained fingers fired semi auto. Clarissa was already looking around for a familiar color of blond cutely tied up by a red gift bow.
always avail
legit your mom told me she knows when its me versus any other car
Which was pretty impressive! Clarissa hadn't modded her exhaust so it was still quiet by the standards of the brand. Clarissa herself could barely hear her own car unless she pushed the accelerator hard, which she never wanted to do in city limits because ouch it was loud and she didn't want to be rude to others.
Clarissa spotted a smol girl. She had large and pretty eyes, kind of mute in color. Her fit looked flattering and well chosen. Plus a scarf, one of those types of clothes Clarissa forgot the existence of unless one of her fashion smart friends reminded her- Kiandra her beloved, etc. Smol girl was a very familar sight. The bow, it was always the bow. A moment of processing and then another moment of making sure, even when it was a face and a shilouette she'd known most of her life.
Sylvie!
Clarissa waved her friend over redundantly while she excised herself from her ride. Eager, but careful to take her keys. Not careful enough to remember to pause her playlist, the song fizzling away as her phone, also forgotten, became an object in her rear view mirror not closer than it appeared. She started to bound over to her friend, galloping two left feet at a time. Sylvie was staring at her phone intently like she was trying to melt it with eye lasers. Her lips were frozen shut even when she breathed out cold mist clouds. She was stressed out about something. That happened sometimes when Sylvie was asking a favor. Even when Clarissa loved driving her around and offered to do it, like, all the time. She probably would have sent a message if Sylvie hadn't done it first. It was one of those little things Clarissa didn't really get.
"Sylvie-!"
Clarissa remembered to breathe. Or like, her brain remembered it for her. Her focus split like a banana as she suddenly had more things to pay attention to.
Fit girl. Broad shoulders. Eyes that could put a bullet in an opp. Cute combo of comfy looking leggings and kinda short shorts. Pink hair like popping Dubble Bubble. It was the hair- it used to be something else, but now the hair was the easiest thing to make everything instantly click. She was another familiar face belonging to an also friend.
Marcy!
Now it was a party. Not that it hadn't been a party but now it was more of one.
Clarissa finished stampeding up the walkway towards the one girl who had been lugging around bags Clarissa had wanted to help with, who had become two girls the moment Clarissa had closed her eyes. Clarissa was still kinda fixated on the whole helping Sylvie thing. Her half finished thought continued out of her mouth, speed of sound faster than speed of thought.
"Sylvie! Do you need help with those?" And then immediately after, with the same breath,
"Also hi Marcy. Do you also need a ride? I know you didn't ask but." It seemed obvious. Usually Clarissa was good at figuring out things when they were obvious.
Clarissa rubbed at the suddenly itchy wind-kissed spot on her cheek, which to an observer was now even more like a bee sting impact than the usual ruddiness of her complexion. She smiled as she flashed her accessory for the day- silver chain bracelet, she remembered the exact store and date she'd thrifted it with Sylvie the row over looking at other stuff.
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LYourLocalAutist
- Posts: 260
- Joined: Sun May 19, 2024 2:50 pm
- Location: IN YOUR HEAAAAD IN YOUR HEAAAAAAAAD ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE-E-E
Sylvie let out another freezing, shuddering sigh as she looked down at her phone. Her free hand reaffirmed the positionings of her bags on her shoulders. She was about to resign herself to a frost-laden waiting time before she was abruptly reminded that this was Clarissa and there was basically never a point during which she wasn't about the most reliable person ever.
Her expression and posture, up until now about as icy as the surrounding temperature, relaxed slightly as Clarissa's initial replies came in. She felt a bit reaffirmed emotionally. Once more validated in the fact that no, she wasn't annoying anyone, much less Clarissa, through a basic request. At the text's mention of her mom, her lips even turned up into a smile and she chuckled, sending out a couple more waves of warm breath to dance as pretty steam in the cold air. She laughed mostly because it was true despite the absurdity of the statement itself. Clarissa was practically a chauffer to her at this point, and she seemed ecstatic to just drive her around. She was in a better mood now, a much more natural one for the event that would proceed.
She noticed the sound first; a distinct clacking of shoes against concrete getting louder, and heading towards her, specifically. She turned her head just in time to hear a nickname of hers being sounded out by a familiar, accent-twinged and luxurious voice, and just in time to attach that voice to a familiar face. Contrasting bright and dark colours, present. Glaringly hot pink hair, clocked. Marcy Valerio incoming.
She grinned cheerily and raised an arm to wave back, calling out with a nickname to meet her own. "Mar-Mar!" She craned her head to properly look at her the closer she approached. It was practically muscle memory to her. She stopped minding a while back. She then replied to Marcy's query.
"Yeah," she shrugged, sighing. "Stayed behind to talk with coach. But I do have a ride-"
A similarly familiar voice now sounded out behind her, addressing her by her name proper. Speak of the devil! Angel was probably more applicable here. Saviour angel. Car angel. Sylvie spun around on her feet once more to catch the sight of that amicable and strikingly red face, framed by, well, even more red. Her smile broadened and she waved as Clarissa approached, smoothly switching up the continuation of the sentence that still lingered in her mouth.
"-And here she comes. Clarissa! Hiii!"
She could lower the angle at which her neck had to crane looking at her, if only slightly. She was among great friends now, and a lot happier and more relaxed than she had been a few minutes ago. She waited out her friend's rapid braindump, as would nearly always occur when a lot of things happened at once. She needed a bit, which Sylvie could wait out. Once finished, she raised a hand in polite rejection at Clarissa's offer, still smiling, now gratefully. Self-reminded that it now seemed to be nickname hours, she addressed her next with one of hers.
"Oh, C's, it's fine, I promise."
And that part was true, authentic in her voice. If she couldn't consistently pull her own weight in athletic and scholastic supplies she would've been smushed into a Sylvie pancake by the load ages ago. Clarissa was already doing enough good being her ride home. Her gaze then moved over to Clarissa's raised wrist, and her bracelet by extension. Her eyes widened in appraisal, then recognition, and her mouth opened in some kind of small awe. A look that meant "Oh my God I remember that that's beautiful go off". An overall brightness permeated her now, a mood much more typical for her. One she was very glad to feel.
Her expression and posture, up until now about as icy as the surrounding temperature, relaxed slightly as Clarissa's initial replies came in. She felt a bit reaffirmed emotionally. Once more validated in the fact that no, she wasn't annoying anyone, much less Clarissa, through a basic request. At the text's mention of her mom, her lips even turned up into a smile and she chuckled, sending out a couple more waves of warm breath to dance as pretty steam in the cold air. She laughed mostly because it was true despite the absurdity of the statement itself. Clarissa was practically a chauffer to her at this point, and she seemed ecstatic to just drive her around. She was in a better mood now, a much more natural one for the event that would proceed.
She noticed the sound first; a distinct clacking of shoes against concrete getting louder, and heading towards her, specifically. She turned her head just in time to hear a nickname of hers being sounded out by a familiar, accent-twinged and luxurious voice, and just in time to attach that voice to a familiar face. Contrasting bright and dark colours, present. Glaringly hot pink hair, clocked. Marcy Valerio incoming.
She grinned cheerily and raised an arm to wave back, calling out with a nickname to meet her own. "Mar-Mar!" She craned her head to properly look at her the closer she approached. It was practically muscle memory to her. She stopped minding a while back. She then replied to Marcy's query.
"Yeah," she shrugged, sighing. "Stayed behind to talk with coach. But I do have a ride-"
A similarly familiar voice now sounded out behind her, addressing her by her name proper. Speak of the devil! Angel was probably more applicable here. Saviour angel. Car angel. Sylvie spun around on her feet once more to catch the sight of that amicable and strikingly red face, framed by, well, even more red. Her smile broadened and she waved as Clarissa approached, smoothly switching up the continuation of the sentence that still lingered in her mouth.
"-And here she comes. Clarissa! Hiii!"
She could lower the angle at which her neck had to crane looking at her, if only slightly. She was among great friends now, and a lot happier and more relaxed than she had been a few minutes ago. She waited out her friend's rapid braindump, as would nearly always occur when a lot of things happened at once. She needed a bit, which Sylvie could wait out. Once finished, she raised a hand in polite rejection at Clarissa's offer, still smiling, now gratefully. Self-reminded that it now seemed to be nickname hours, she addressed her next with one of hers.
"Oh, C's, it's fine, I promise."
And that part was true, authentic in her voice. If she couldn't consistently pull her own weight in athletic and scholastic supplies she would've been smushed into a Sylvie pancake by the load ages ago. Clarissa was already doing enough good being her ride home. Her gaze then moved over to Clarissa's raised wrist, and her bracelet by extension. Her eyes widened in appraisal, then recognition, and her mouth opened in some kind of small awe. A look that meant "Oh my God I remember that that's beautiful go off". An overall brightness permeated her now, a mood much more typical for her. One she was very glad to feel.
The V9 Children themselves:
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
"Ooh?" replied Marcy with a raised brow, head craned downwards to match Sylvie's. Whilst she never felt particularly insecure about her height, she couldn't deny that she got a kick out of towering above one of her classmates for a change.
It took Marcy a second to spot Clarissa wading her way through the crowd, smile widening and hand raising to wave her friend over. "Heeey-hey!"
Man, was she pleased as punch to see them right now. Clarissa and Sylvie have been two of her besties since forever. And by forever she meant since they were freshmen, but that was basically forever ago.
Sadly, she couldnt say the same about the rest of the cheer squad. Things hadn't been the same with a lot of them since the accident. Well, more accurately since she started associating with the likes of Finn and Beelie-Bubs. Some folk saw the need to stick their noses where they didn't belong, voice their disapproval of her choice of company.
But not Clarissa and Sylvie. They didn't judge her. Not openly, anyway.
Either way, Clarissa had arrived with an offer she couldn't refuse.
"Now you mention it, that would be great, yeah!"
It took Marcy a second to spot Clarissa wading her way through the crowd, smile widening and hand raising to wave her friend over. "Heeey-hey!"
Man, was she pleased as punch to see them right now. Clarissa and Sylvie have been two of her besties since forever. And by forever she meant since they were freshmen, but that was basically forever ago.
Sadly, she couldnt say the same about the rest of the cheer squad. Things hadn't been the same with a lot of them since the accident. Well, more accurately since she started associating with the likes of Finn and Beelie-Bubs. Some folk saw the need to stick their noses where they didn't belong, voice their disapproval of her choice of company.
But not Clarissa and Sylvie. They didn't judge her. Not openly, anyway.
Either way, Clarissa had arrived with an offer she couldn't refuse.
"Now you mention it, that would be great, yeah!"
Glam Factory Vintage, 211 E Colorado Ave, Las Vegas, NV 89104. Roughly 25 minutes away taking the highway, decent street parking, three parking lots all in a kinda too easy 5-10 minute walk radius away if everyone was feeling lazy.
Clarissa must have gone with friends a dozen plus times? Just in the past couple months. Always a fun trip, always the more friends the better.
The braclet, a bit warm still from hiding like a turtle under the sleeve of her sweater, stayed exposed. She didn't notice her own carefulness in signaling that it was still there. Of a friend, by a friend, for a friend. Good to make sure.
And there were a bunch of those friends, here and around her. Arranged in some kind of order by height, as if they were the shiny face dolls Clarissa had sitting on her shelves. All smiles. Everyone seemed happy. With lips, and like, also with eyes, which Clarissa had to focus a little hard on to notice. Always an important consideration. Peoples eyes danced the same way their feet did, sometimes quick, sometimes clumsy, and usually all over the place.
Also C was such a cute nickname. Clarissa had been so happy the first time Sylvie had started calling her that! It felt super personal despite literally just being one letter.
"Yep! I kind of like doing the giving people a ride thing." Somewhere and anywhere and everywhere. As long as she was back before her parents got pissed.
"So like, what kept you both behind? If I can ask? Also." Eye contact maintained, Clarissa's cold color eyes warm despite the ambient tempurature. Back and forth. One at a time and both at once. Clarissa smiled, while her fingers slowly dug the itch out of her skin before it really started to make her feel uncomfortable. Her eyes would otherwise start to water. Bad on the streets of Las Vegas and affiliated suburbs!
"How've you been, Marcy? And Finn? If I can ask?" Clarissa adjusted her scruffy bangs before they curled straight into stabbing her in the eyes. "Been a hot minute since the last party we all hung out at wasn't it? Last November?" If she remembered right. Important to ask. If her friends wanted to talk about it, Clarissa wanted to hear. Like moving wheels, moving lips kept everything healthy and working. Texts, Instas, WhatsApps, Discords. Everyone was everywhere and Clarissa was always there too. Hopefully they as a trio hadn't caught up before and Clarissa hadn't forgotten that had happened. That happened occasionally despite her best efforts.
Clarissa must have gone with friends a dozen plus times? Just in the past couple months. Always a fun trip, always the more friends the better.
The braclet, a bit warm still from hiding like a turtle under the sleeve of her sweater, stayed exposed. She didn't notice her own carefulness in signaling that it was still there. Of a friend, by a friend, for a friend. Good to make sure.
And there were a bunch of those friends, here and around her. Arranged in some kind of order by height, as if they were the shiny face dolls Clarissa had sitting on her shelves. All smiles. Everyone seemed happy. With lips, and like, also with eyes, which Clarissa had to focus a little hard on to notice. Always an important consideration. Peoples eyes danced the same way their feet did, sometimes quick, sometimes clumsy, and usually all over the place.
Also C was such a cute nickname. Clarissa had been so happy the first time Sylvie had started calling her that! It felt super personal despite literally just being one letter.
"Yep! I kind of like doing the giving people a ride thing." Somewhere and anywhere and everywhere. As long as she was back before her parents got pissed.
"So like, what kept you both behind? If I can ask? Also." Eye contact maintained, Clarissa's cold color eyes warm despite the ambient tempurature. Back and forth. One at a time and both at once. Clarissa smiled, while her fingers slowly dug the itch out of her skin before it really started to make her feel uncomfortable. Her eyes would otherwise start to water. Bad on the streets of Las Vegas and affiliated suburbs!
"How've you been, Marcy? And Finn? If I can ask?" Clarissa adjusted her scruffy bangs before they curled straight into stabbing her in the eyes. "Been a hot minute since the last party we all hung out at wasn't it? Last November?" If she remembered right. Important to ask. If her friends wanted to talk about it, Clarissa wanted to hear. Like moving wheels, moving lips kept everything healthy and working. Texts, Instas, WhatsApps, Discords. Everyone was everywhere and Clarissa was always there too. Hopefully they as a trio hadn't caught up before and Clarissa hadn't forgotten that had happened. That happened occasionally despite her best efforts.
-
LYourLocalAutist
- Posts: 260
- Joined: Sun May 19, 2024 2:50 pm
- Location: IN YOUR HEAAAAD IN YOUR HEAAAAAAAAD ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE-E-E
Sylvie's phone, by now, was long in her pocket. All her attention was put forward into the moment, now that it'd been established. Her hands kept occupied by reaching up and behind her head to reaffirm her bow, as they often did. Even when it needed no actual adjustments, she'd made a habit of fidgeting with it when thoughts or feelings called for fidgeting. Even though the cold now bit at her hands, just being around people she liked felt nice enough to bear it. She'd have a nice car heater to properly thaw them against soon.
Clarissa was just a joyful presence to bask in. So unadulteratedly eager, especially when it came to her car, Sylvie thought to herself at Clarissa's remark. As much latent embarassment she felt on relying on it and her so much, it had been a saving grace from many a scolding from her parents. There was simply never a point at which Clarissa wasn't available, or when Sylvie was a bother for asking- though she herself would still need a bit to reckon with that. That thought was pushed back once again, albeit now much more easily.
As for Marcy, she was always just a blast. Her fellow flyer always had a joke to crack or a story to tell. Sylvie couldn't understand for the life of her why the rest of the girls started sort of putting her off when she started going steady with Finn and Beel's... """group""". She was still Marcy. Occasional violations of federal laws and regulations nonwithstanding. Not like she could talk about that— BAD THOUGHTS TO THE SIDE. Bad thoughts to the side.
She shook her body slightly as the group began to move back to the car, as if at once trying to retain heat physically and expel negativity emotionally. Clarissa's questions got her more relaxed, her mind off those things properly.
Maintaining eye contact with Clarissa as the questioner, she replied chipperly, at least to start with. "Ah, I stayed behind to talk with Coach Harper about the new training schedules for the semester. A few of the cheerleading periods clash with debate club, and it's a real pain trying to organize everything, and... yknow." Her tone and expression morphed over the course of the sentence, culminating in a certain drawl she employed when saying "debate club" to something which could be accurately be itemized as "bleh mode". Not quite entirely negative, moreso... bleh. Drooping eyelids, tongue slightly sticking out, her preferred activity out of the two noted made basically clear through context and expression. Being flung into the air by her besties supervised by the coolest coach in the school was the dream. Having to listen to Hayden Prescott punctuate every sentence with "objectively" for two hours, however funny, made her want to jump off a cliff.
Debate club, however, was another thought that could be blissfully disintegrated in the implacable wake of the power of friendship, and her cheer quickly returned seeing Clarissa's mannerisms and listening to Marcy go on about her and Finn. At Clarissa's following querie, her eyes did light up slightly, in memory. Her brow furrowed a little bit when she focused like that, and relaxed once more when she came up with something. She piped up;
"Yeah— the one with the barrel, right?" She shuddered slightly remembering the barrel before moving on. "I wanted to be around for the Christmas party, but Mom had us whisked off across the planet to spend it with her family." Her smile didn't waver at that remark despite her apparent wishes for it to have been otherwise. She couldn't exactly complain about being able to spend two weeks in Paris with Grand-Mère, Grand-Père, her oncles and tantes and cousins. She'd come back with memories, sweets and a healthy amount of Parisian fashion, a Sézane wool scarf from which wrapped around her neck right now.
Clarissa was just a joyful presence to bask in. So unadulteratedly eager, especially when it came to her car, Sylvie thought to herself at Clarissa's remark. As much latent embarassment she felt on relying on it and her so much, it had been a saving grace from many a scolding from her parents. There was simply never a point at which Clarissa wasn't available, or when Sylvie was a bother for asking- though she herself would still need a bit to reckon with that. That thought was pushed back once again, albeit now much more easily.
As for Marcy, she was always just a blast. Her fellow flyer always had a joke to crack or a story to tell. Sylvie couldn't understand for the life of her why the rest of the girls started sort of putting her off when she started going steady with Finn and Beel's... """group""". She was still Marcy. Occasional violations of federal laws and regulations nonwithstanding. Not like she could talk about that— BAD THOUGHTS TO THE SIDE. Bad thoughts to the side.
She shook her body slightly as the group began to move back to the car, as if at once trying to retain heat physically and expel negativity emotionally. Clarissa's questions got her more relaxed, her mind off those things properly.
Maintaining eye contact with Clarissa as the questioner, she replied chipperly, at least to start with. "Ah, I stayed behind to talk with Coach Harper about the new training schedules for the semester. A few of the cheerleading periods clash with debate club, and it's a real pain trying to organize everything, and... yknow." Her tone and expression morphed over the course of the sentence, culminating in a certain drawl she employed when saying "debate club" to something which could be accurately be itemized as "bleh mode". Not quite entirely negative, moreso... bleh. Drooping eyelids, tongue slightly sticking out, her preferred activity out of the two noted made basically clear through context and expression. Being flung into the air by her besties supervised by the coolest coach in the school was the dream. Having to listen to Hayden Prescott punctuate every sentence with "objectively" for two hours, however funny, made her want to jump off a cliff.
Debate club, however, was another thought that could be blissfully disintegrated in the implacable wake of the power of friendship, and her cheer quickly returned seeing Clarissa's mannerisms and listening to Marcy go on about her and Finn. At Clarissa's following querie, her eyes did light up slightly, in memory. Her brow furrowed a little bit when she focused like that, and relaxed once more when she came up with something. She piped up;
"Yeah— the one with the barrel, right?" She shuddered slightly remembering the barrel before moving on. "I wanted to be around for the Christmas party, but Mom had us whisked off across the planet to spend it with her family." Her smile didn't waver at that remark despite her apparent wishes for it to have been otherwise. She couldn't exactly complain about being able to spend two weeks in Paris with Grand-Mère, Grand-Père, her oncles and tantes and cousins. She'd come back with memories, sweets and a healthy amount of Parisian fashion, a Sézane wool scarf from which wrapped around her neck right now.
The V9 Children themselves:
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
"Uugh, it's a long story..." Marcy groaned, in a manner that was mostly performative. Granted she was more than happy to let Sylvie take the lead on that particular question, walking alongside her gal pals as they made their way towards Clarissa's ride.
She couldn't help but make a face at the mention of debate club. If there was one topic that never failed to sour Marcy's mood, it had to be politics. She just couldn't stand it. ESPECIALLY lately, fucking hell. If she had to listen to her mom and sister argue about Canon one more time...
"Oof, sounds rough"
Fortunately, Clarissa changed the subject to something more cheery, Marcy's smile returning the instant her boyfriend's name was brought up. "Never better! Oh my god, did I ever tell you guys about New Years? Finn found this quiet little spot up in the mountains - PERFECT view of the city, not a single tourist in sight! MAN, when all the fireworks went off... MMmf, most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me~"
Marcy sighed dreamily as she replayed that particular memory, almost tripping over a curb as they walked through the parking lot together. "But uh, yeah, things have been pretty good lately! I mean, birthday bash didn't go QUITE as planned, but uh..."
She shrugged, tilting her head when Clarissa mentioned how long it had been since they all attended a party together. "Whaaaaaat, no way! Oh god, don't remind me!" she replied when Sylvie mentioned the barrel, shuddering in horror. "But really, that... Has it really been over a month now?"
Marcy thought back. There was the party back in November, then she spent Christmas with her family, New Years with Finn, and it was too short notice for either Clarissa or Sylvie to take part in her birthday bash.... Well damn. It really had been over a month, huh? Outside of cheer practice, they hadn't really hung out all that much since November.
"Well, we gotta do something about THAT!" she stated, smirking with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Of course, there was... Well, one other thing that likely contributed to why it had been so long since they last hung out together. An elephant in the room that made spending time with her fellow cheerleaders a little more awkward than it used to be, one whose name began with J and ended with Z.
Marcy tried to blot that particular name out of her mind, determined to not let it sour the mood. She wasn't going to let her stop Marcy from having fun with her friends. Not this time.
She couldn't help but make a face at the mention of debate club. If there was one topic that never failed to sour Marcy's mood, it had to be politics. She just couldn't stand it. ESPECIALLY lately, fucking hell. If she had to listen to her mom and sister argue about Canon one more time...
"Oof, sounds rough"
Fortunately, Clarissa changed the subject to something more cheery, Marcy's smile returning the instant her boyfriend's name was brought up. "Never better! Oh my god, did I ever tell you guys about New Years? Finn found this quiet little spot up in the mountains - PERFECT view of the city, not a single tourist in sight! MAN, when all the fireworks went off... MMmf, most romantic thing anyone's ever done for me~"
Marcy sighed dreamily as she replayed that particular memory, almost tripping over a curb as they walked through the parking lot together. "But uh, yeah, things have been pretty good lately! I mean, birthday bash didn't go QUITE as planned, but uh..."
She shrugged, tilting her head when Clarissa mentioned how long it had been since they all attended a party together. "Whaaaaaat, no way! Oh god, don't remind me!" she replied when Sylvie mentioned the barrel, shuddering in horror. "But really, that... Has it really been over a month now?"
Marcy thought back. There was the party back in November, then she spent Christmas with her family, New Years with Finn, and it was too short notice for either Clarissa or Sylvie to take part in her birthday bash.... Well damn. It really had been over a month, huh? Outside of cheer practice, they hadn't really hung out all that much since November.
"Well, we gotta do something about THAT!" she stated, smirking with a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Of course, there was... Well, one other thing that likely contributed to why it had been so long since they last hung out together. An elephant in the room that made spending time with her fellow cheerleaders a little more awkward than it used to be, one whose name began with J and ended with Z.
Marcy tried to blot that particular name out of her mind, determined to not let it sour the mood. She wasn't going to let her stop Marcy from having fun with her friends. Not this time.
"We do know, in fact." Clarissa nodded firmly as Sylvie meditated on some pretentious debate kid or another. Just a side-long glance at Marcy confirmed that, yes, wrong audience. Clarissa definitely did not belong in conversations about debate club, let alone the actual debate club itself. Politics... arguments... Clarissa had never worked well with those. But she admired that Sylvie did.
Kind of. Sure it made Sylvie cool and smart in a way that was very badass but... Clarissa wasn't certain- she never was- but she'd gotten the sense at some point that Sylvie didn't actually enjoy being in debate much? Sylvie never ever brought it up except as a reminder about why she wasn't available at X Y Z time of the day. It was like... they could talk for hours about cool places to drive to, to eat, to browse through for weird shiny things to wear and show off to other friends. They could talk about cheer routines and each others hobby collections. But never Debate. It made sense, but of course any time Clarissa assumed anything she tended to get it capital letters Wrong, so.
That aside. Everyone was doing well! Everyone was smiling with their lips and their teeth. Everyone was relaxed. Clarissa fell in rank, nebulously trailing the other two like the echo of their own footsteps. Still present, still attentive.
"Oh please, you have to tell me." Marcy's update immediately plucked at Clarissa's heart strings, one of those sappy love song type melodies. Clarissa pantomined Marcy's smile. She almost asked for the address. But from experience she knew people didn't usually have that one off the top.
"How far out from the city? If you remember? It sounds amazing and," Clarissa giggled slyly, one hand briefly to her cheek as she pretend swooned like seemed appropriate for the moment. "Romantic. I'm jealous, Marcyyyy! I kinda wanna go. Sorta."
Clarissa almost wiped out on the exact same curb Marcy had barely dodged, imagining some cute date, alone with a soft pair of lips under some starlit sky. Though it had been a while since she'd kissed anyone or felt comfortable proposing the idea. She wondered if they'd changed how making out worked since she'd last tried it. Her smile that exact moment was more for herself than the other girls.
"But yeah, it's been a while." Holidays, not much time to meet friends. There had been that one party with most of the cheer girls but Marcy hadn't been there.
Marcy's birthday was... coming up? Already passed? Clarissa probably had it on her phone planner but who was phone, even? Either way Marcy probably had closer friends in mind for the invite, which was of course totally cool. If Clarissa went to every birthday of everyone she called a friend, she'd be as busy as like... how many days were there in a year again?
"Barrel aside," Clarissa waved it off as she tried to remember. The Barrel. Blessed be thy name. Hadn't it been like, one of those things that wasn't funny at the time but was hilarious in hindsight? Or was it the other way around? Clarissa honestly needed a reminder but that seemed like the most awkward question ever, and historically Clarissa asked a lot of awkward questions. Apparently.
"YES. Girls, we, will make something happen. Something awesome, ideally, and a biiiit dumb."
But Clarissa didn't have a specific idea as to what that awesome slash dumb thing would be. Having the ideas had never been her strong suit!
"Hold up. I can't think and do stuff at the same time." Many such cases. As they reached her baby- all one point five tons of him- Clarissa slid into the driver's seat fluidly like it was her own bed, foot on the break pedal, key in the ignition, passenger doors unlocked, mirrors adjusted, seatbelt clicked. Too fast for the human eye to follow, though that was an exaggeration. Sort of. This was something she did a lot, et cetera.
"Were either of you planning on calling shotgun?"
Kind of. Sure it made Sylvie cool and smart in a way that was very badass but... Clarissa wasn't certain- she never was- but she'd gotten the sense at some point that Sylvie didn't actually enjoy being in debate much? Sylvie never ever brought it up except as a reminder about why she wasn't available at X Y Z time of the day. It was like... they could talk for hours about cool places to drive to, to eat, to browse through for weird shiny things to wear and show off to other friends. They could talk about cheer routines and each others hobby collections. But never Debate. It made sense, but of course any time Clarissa assumed anything she tended to get it capital letters Wrong, so.
That aside. Everyone was doing well! Everyone was smiling with their lips and their teeth. Everyone was relaxed. Clarissa fell in rank, nebulously trailing the other two like the echo of their own footsteps. Still present, still attentive.
"Oh please, you have to tell me." Marcy's update immediately plucked at Clarissa's heart strings, one of those sappy love song type melodies. Clarissa pantomined Marcy's smile. She almost asked for the address. But from experience she knew people didn't usually have that one off the top.
"How far out from the city? If you remember? It sounds amazing and," Clarissa giggled slyly, one hand briefly to her cheek as she pretend swooned like seemed appropriate for the moment. "Romantic. I'm jealous, Marcyyyy! I kinda wanna go. Sorta."
Clarissa almost wiped out on the exact same curb Marcy had barely dodged, imagining some cute date, alone with a soft pair of lips under some starlit sky. Though it had been a while since she'd kissed anyone or felt comfortable proposing the idea. She wondered if they'd changed how making out worked since she'd last tried it. Her smile that exact moment was more for herself than the other girls.
"But yeah, it's been a while." Holidays, not much time to meet friends. There had been that one party with most of the cheer girls but Marcy hadn't been there.
Marcy's birthday was... coming up? Already passed? Clarissa probably had it on her phone planner but who was phone, even? Either way Marcy probably had closer friends in mind for the invite, which was of course totally cool. If Clarissa went to every birthday of everyone she called a friend, she'd be as busy as like... how many days were there in a year again?
"Barrel aside," Clarissa waved it off as she tried to remember. The Barrel. Blessed be thy name. Hadn't it been like, one of those things that wasn't funny at the time but was hilarious in hindsight? Or was it the other way around? Clarissa honestly needed a reminder but that seemed like the most awkward question ever, and historically Clarissa asked a lot of awkward questions. Apparently.
"YES. Girls, we, will make something happen. Something awesome, ideally, and a biiiit dumb."
But Clarissa didn't have a specific idea as to what that awesome slash dumb thing would be. Having the ideas had never been her strong suit!
"Hold up. I can't think and do stuff at the same time." Many such cases. As they reached her baby- all one point five tons of him- Clarissa slid into the driver's seat fluidly like it was her own bed, foot on the break pedal, key in the ignition, passenger doors unlocked, mirrors adjusted, seatbelt clicked. Too fast for the human eye to follow, though that was an exaggeration. Sort of. This was something she did a lot, et cetera.
"Were either of you planning on calling shotgun?"
-
LYourLocalAutist
- Posts: 260
- Joined: Sun May 19, 2024 2:50 pm
- Location: IN YOUR HEAAAAD IN YOUR HEAAAAAAAAD ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE, ZOMBIE-E-E
Sylvie's attention immediately zeroed in on Marcy when her mouth opened about the oh-so-beautiful moment Marcy shared with her boyfriend. She tried to be subtle about it, but the side-eye was there. She was into this topic. The way Marcy described the locale in question made it feel so idyllic, and her body warmed slightly from shivers emanating from her heart. "Marcy, oh my God, that's beautiful." She said, the lingering sweetness of her reaction present in her voice. She wanted to go back to acting like a normal person then. It was unfortunately not to be.
Compared to her previous attempt at subtlety, any attempt to do so at all went out the window when Marcy swooned describing the sheer romanticism of it. She found herself yearning a bit. Couldn't exactly help herself. It was extremely outwardly obvious who she was thinking about because whenever she did it was like she'd shrink even more than she already seemed she had. Thinking about that man in some kind of romantic context, it didn't really matter which. Side effects of in any capacity thinking about that man included immediately making her a little bit of a mess. A large, red blush spread across her cheeks, surprisingly distinguishable from the red that came from the cold. She found herself delicately clasping her hands together around near her pockets "for no particular reason." Her gaze became wide-eyed and cast downwards and some wide, dumb smile spread across her face, different from any other smile she'd expressed thus far, as she thought those sweet thoughts and felt those sweet feelings, localized in her own little world. Sighing dreamily. Swooning in time with her girls.
Nearly splattering her face against concrete in time as well.
It took a foot bumping against a curve and herself actively beginning to fall face forward to snap her out of her little trance. Dreaminess quickly turned to fear and instinct as it should have, and Sylvie deftly thrust her other foot forward to catch herself, ending with her only stumbling a bit. Now embarrassed out of her mind, she set to trying to position herself as a normal person with normal thoughts about a certain figure on a certain sports team. She continued to walk along with her girls like nothing had happened, back straight, hands in pocket, face... well, still blushing, but it was okay now because it was out of a bit of mortification. Better to keep those thoughts away around her friends as well, though they were anything but negative.
...She still made a mental note of where that spot in the mountains Marcy went was.
Gleeful at the subject change, she returned to her normal smile at the mention of the making of proper plans to hang out. Her mind quickly set to swimming with ideas, chuckling at Clarissa's mentioning of "something a bit dumb". She realised to herself— she knew a place that was awesome and fun and a bit dumb.
"Oooh, definitely! Have you guys ever been to Connect Pour over at Crateful?"
She set to thinking, and explaining, as Clarissa got to carmaxxing. The Crateful Dead was a bit of a haven for Sylvie as it was, and she remembered Connect Pour being among the best it had to offer. Hands down best place to thrift, to hang and eat and laugh, all while away from the prying eyes of the pestilential, putrid, ever-present plagueish "people" they called "tourists" in the dictionary. Sylvie had been cursed with the fact that both major cities she had a proper connection to in life were the hunting-breeding grounds of these... these things. Thankfully, Crateful was some ways too gauche for their tastes, and they were rarely seen there, if at all.
"It's this really nice café where they have board games you can just play while drinking and— oh— SHOTGUN!"
She yelped out as Clarissa offered, interrupting herself. Eh, she'd explained about enough anyway. Sylvie felt at home in the shotgun of Clarissa's mustang. A grin spread across her face as she made her way to the door adjacent to Clarissa, opened it and slid right in with ease. Settling into the Mustang's leather seats, which, as is commonly known, are anointed by pagan worshippers of some kind of deity of comfiness, Sylvie sighed in relief. The warmth was hitting her already. She didn't mind that she didn't quite fit properly in the seat— it just meant more surface area for her to be comfy against, and she could still easily put on a seatbelt. She gently settled her bags right under her feet and felt the additional relief of her sheer lightness. Her smile broadened, and she leaned back.
Compared to her previous attempt at subtlety, any attempt to do so at all went out the window when Marcy swooned describing the sheer romanticism of it. She found herself yearning a bit. Couldn't exactly help herself. It was extremely outwardly obvious who she was thinking about because whenever she did it was like she'd shrink even more than she already seemed she had. Thinking about that man in some kind of romantic context, it didn't really matter which. Side effects of in any capacity thinking about that man included immediately making her a little bit of a mess. A large, red blush spread across her cheeks, surprisingly distinguishable from the red that came from the cold. She found herself delicately clasping her hands together around near her pockets "for no particular reason." Her gaze became wide-eyed and cast downwards and some wide, dumb smile spread across her face, different from any other smile she'd expressed thus far, as she thought those sweet thoughts and felt those sweet feelings, localized in her own little world. Sighing dreamily. Swooning in time with her girls.
Nearly splattering her face against concrete in time as well.
It took a foot bumping against a curve and herself actively beginning to fall face forward to snap her out of her little trance. Dreaminess quickly turned to fear and instinct as it should have, and Sylvie deftly thrust her other foot forward to catch herself, ending with her only stumbling a bit. Now embarrassed out of her mind, she set to trying to position herself as a normal person with normal thoughts about a certain figure on a certain sports team. She continued to walk along with her girls like nothing had happened, back straight, hands in pocket, face... well, still blushing, but it was okay now because it was out of a bit of mortification. Better to keep those thoughts away around her friends as well, though they were anything but negative.
...She still made a mental note of where that spot in the mountains Marcy went was.
Gleeful at the subject change, she returned to her normal smile at the mention of the making of proper plans to hang out. Her mind quickly set to swimming with ideas, chuckling at Clarissa's mentioning of "something a bit dumb". She realised to herself— she knew a place that was awesome and fun and a bit dumb.
"Oooh, definitely! Have you guys ever been to Connect Pour over at Crateful?"
She set to thinking, and explaining, as Clarissa got to carmaxxing. The Crateful Dead was a bit of a haven for Sylvie as it was, and she remembered Connect Pour being among the best it had to offer. Hands down best place to thrift, to hang and eat and laugh, all while away from the prying eyes of the pestilential, putrid, ever-present plagueish "people" they called "tourists" in the dictionary. Sylvie had been cursed with the fact that both major cities she had a proper connection to in life were the hunting-breeding grounds of these... these things. Thankfully, Crateful was some ways too gauche for their tastes, and they were rarely seen there, if at all.
"It's this really nice café where they have board games you can just play while drinking and— oh— SHOTGUN!"
She yelped out as Clarissa offered, interrupting herself. Eh, she'd explained about enough anyway. Sylvie felt at home in the shotgun of Clarissa's mustang. A grin spread across her face as she made her way to the door adjacent to Clarissa, opened it and slid right in with ease. Settling into the Mustang's leather seats, which, as is commonly known, are anointed by pagan worshippers of some kind of deity of comfiness, Sylvie sighed in relief. The warmth was hitting her already. She didn't mind that she didn't quite fit properly in the seat— it just meant more surface area for her to be comfy against, and she could still easily put on a seatbelt. She gently settled her bags right under her feet and felt the additional relief of her sheer lightness. Her smile broadened, and she leaned back.
The V9 Children themselves:
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
The Machininst - Raya Loux The Petite - Sylvie Rattray-Aubert The Forlorn The Tough Guy - Manuel "Mañana" Hernández And here's outdated info about them plus where (not all of) their relationships are: viewtopic.php?t=9024
About fifty feet away, on the other side of the school maintenance company's van, a white Camaro kicked to life, pulled out of its parking spot, and turned in the general direction of the three girls. It started sliiiiiiiiding slowly down the aisle, waning sun glaring off the windshield, the subwoofer turned all the way up. As it got closer to Clarissa's Mustang, the driver's side window rolled down, freeing the vibrations trapped within.
"- [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
Still wearing full cheer uniform, Stella Nyquist sat with one hand on the wheel, talking into her cell phone.
"Byeeeeeeee~," she mouthed out the window to the other girls as she passed by.
"ALL I WANNA DO IS [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
The Camaro accelerated.
"ALL I WANNA DO IS [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
It reached the stop sign at the parking lot's exit. Legally speaking, it stopped.
Stella took her hand off the steering wheel and turned the volume down.
"-sorry, okay so my dad was like, Stella you should start taking Krav Maga in case someone tries to mug you, like what is that even supposed to meeeeeean -" she continued into her phone.
((And then she drove off.))
"- [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
Still wearing full cheer uniform, Stella Nyquist sat with one hand on the wheel, talking into her cell phone.
"Byeeeeeeee~," she mouthed out the window to the other girls as she passed by.
"ALL I WANNA DO IS [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
The Camaro accelerated.
"ALL I WANNA DO IS [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] [GUNSHOT NOISE] AND A [CASH REGISTER NOISE] AND TAKE YOUR MONEY."
It reached the stop sign at the parking lot's exit. Legally speaking, it stopped.
Stella took her hand off the steering wheel and turned the volume down.
"-sorry, okay so my dad was like, Stella you should start taking Krav Maga in case someone tries to mug you, like what is that even supposed to meeeeeean -" she continued into her phone.
((And then she drove off.))
none of you can prove im in v8
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
"Only a bit?" Marcy teased, never one to shy away from so-called dumb ideas herself.
She let out an impressed whistle as they approached Clarissa's convertible. It was a Ford Mustang, right? Finn was very much a car guy, which meant she was kind of a car gal by proxy. Apparently a lot of car nerds dunked on 'em, for some reason? She didn't really get the hate personally. Grey was such a bland color though, Marcy would've gone with hot pink herself. Had to remain on brand, after all.
Sylvie started suggesting they drop by some café down in Crateful Dead, one that apparently had board games. Like, Monopoly and stuff? Didn't sound like Marcy's idea of a good time, unless... Did Jenga count? Her Jenga game was on point, so something like that sounded fun, sure. Frankly any time spent with the girls would be fun enough in of itself, even if they wanted to bust out Clue or whatever.
"SHOTG-ah, dangit" she huffed as Sylvie beat her to the punch, shrugging playfully as she let her bag slip off her shoulders. "S'fine, I was gonna sit in the back ANYWAY!"
She dropped her bag into the footwell before hoisting herself over the door, landing in the back with deceptive ease. "Sooo..."
It was at that point however that a certain white Camaro rolled on by, blaring Paper Planes on full blast. There was the briefest flash of indignation in Marcy's eyes, which quickly subsided once she realised it was just Stella joshing them. Had to hand it to her, girl knew how to make an entrance. Or exit, in this case. Regardless she couldn't resist pointing a fingergun in Stella's direction, miming four shots in tune to the music as the Camaro vroomed off into the distance.
"Haha, anyway, uh..." she laughed, looking a little thrown. Jesus, how the hell do you follow up getting drive-by'd by Stella fuckin' Nyquist? "Lost my train of thought... UUuh, I'm happy to go with whatever really!"
She let out an impressed whistle as they approached Clarissa's convertible. It was a Ford Mustang, right? Finn was very much a car guy, which meant she was kind of a car gal by proxy. Apparently a lot of car nerds dunked on 'em, for some reason? She didn't really get the hate personally. Grey was such a bland color though, Marcy would've gone with hot pink herself. Had to remain on brand, after all.
Sylvie started suggesting they drop by some café down in Crateful Dead, one that apparently had board games. Like, Monopoly and stuff? Didn't sound like Marcy's idea of a good time, unless... Did Jenga count? Her Jenga game was on point, so something like that sounded fun, sure. Frankly any time spent with the girls would be fun enough in of itself, even if they wanted to bust out Clue or whatever.
"SHOTG-ah, dangit" she huffed as Sylvie beat her to the punch, shrugging playfully as she let her bag slip off her shoulders. "S'fine, I was gonna sit in the back ANYWAY!"
She dropped her bag into the footwell before hoisting herself over the door, landing in the back with deceptive ease. "Sooo..."
It was at that point however that a certain white Camaro rolled on by, blaring Paper Planes on full blast. There was the briefest flash of indignation in Marcy's eyes, which quickly subsided once she realised it was just Stella joshing them. Had to hand it to her, girl knew how to make an entrance. Or exit, in this case. Regardless she couldn't resist pointing a fingergun in Stella's direction, miming four shots in tune to the music as the Camaro vroomed off into the distance.
"Haha, anyway, uh..." she laughed, looking a little thrown. Jesus, how the hell do you follow up getting drive-by'd by Stella fuckin' Nyquist? "Lost my train of thought... UUuh, I'm happy to go with whatever really!"
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Magnum 0pus
- Posts: 110
- Joined: Wed Jan 24, 2024 2:44 pm
(Claude O'Neil Porter - PREGAME START)
The cold that Nevada went through every winter was something that didn't really bother Claude all that much. His large size made him optimal to maintain his body heat, mainly because of the subtle body fat his otherwise brawny physique had. Even then, he wore a couple of layers of warm winter clothing to be able to comfortably make it through the day without suffering from the cold temperatures.
He wore a warm vintage caramel brown bomber jacket from the fifties worn over a cozy turtleneck that was worn over a basic white t-shirt. Both the sweater and shirt were nicely tucked into his faded jeans, hugging his muscular body pretty well and making for great eye candy for one such tiny cheerleader. Even though he would've worn boots today, Claude opted for some old white and black Puma sneakers instead simply because they were much easier and quicker to put on. Overall, his fit was pretty well-suited for the winter climate.
At this very moment, he hung outside the school, specifically out in the parking lot, leaning and sitting against the hood of his Ford Maverick. Both of his hands were uncomfortably cold, and he could only blame himself for that since he had forgotten to put on his gloves this morning. "Bon sang!" ("Damn it!"), Claude silently cursed to himself in French before he started to rub his hands together frantically in an attempt warm them up.
It was working, to say the least, if just barely. But barely didn't cut it. To try and make sure his hands got warmer much quicker, he shoved them into the respective pockets of his jacket. Although the warmth wasn't immediately noticeable, he knew it would be a faster process to warm his hands than if he were to continue rubbing them together furiously.
Claude let out a tired sigh as he looked around the parking lot, watching as a crowd of students dispersed through the premises. As he watched them, he could've sworn he saw some very familiar red bow tips that stood out from the crowd. There was no doubt that they belonged to a certain someone he was close friends with.
He should probably go check on her to see what she's doing... but maybe in a bit. Right now, he was too focused on warming up his hands. "Maybe now I'll set those gloves on the nightstand now...", he mocked himself as he would now try to remember to do just that so he wouldn't have to suffer from uncomfortably cold hands in the near future. He craned his thick neck up and looked up at the gray clouded sky.
Why didn't he just get in his car, start it and turn the heater on to warms his hands up faster with it? Well the answer was simple; the heater wasn't working. Claude had no idea why or even so much as when it stopped working, but he surmised it must've been for a while now, to say the least. The young man had been planning to stop by the autoshop that Raya worked at for some time now, but he never got around to it... maybe she wouldn't mind if he dropped by today to see if she can fix it for him.
But he would worry about that later, because right now, he simply closed his eyes and waited for his hands to comfortably warm up.
Time passed and soon his hands were all warmed back up again, as a result, he sighed contently at the feeling. "Fina-", before Claude could finish what he was about to say before a white Camaro drove by, blasting a song so obnoxiously loud that he instinctively covered his ears briefly, "Jeez Stella...", he uttered as he winced while watching Stella briefly slow down to say something to who he assumed were other cheerleaders before accelerating and driving off.
If there was a time to check up on that certain cheerleader with the red bow tips, now was the time. Slowly getting off the hood of his car and standing up, Claude began to mosey on over towards where he assumed Sylvie would be, and he was right on the dot. The short blonde cheerleader was riding shotgun in the Mustang convertible of Clarissa, another cheerleader he was cool with. And right in the backseat was Marcy, who he was also cool with. Even though he heard about how the pink haired teen had gotten mixed up with Beel and gang of misfits, Claude genuinely didn't care for any of that. In his eyes, Marcy was still cool, and he tolerated her short temper and antics.
When he got closer towards the Mustang, he was on the passenger side of the car... which meant that he would end up closest with the one girl who always turned into a flustered red mess whenever he was around her, not like Claude seemed to notice. A small and friendly smile appeared on Claude's face as he leaned forward on the car door.
Not wanting to take up much of their time, Claude simply planned of dropping by to say hi and catch up with the girls.
The cold that Nevada went through every winter was something that didn't really bother Claude all that much. His large size made him optimal to maintain his body heat, mainly because of the subtle body fat his otherwise brawny physique had. Even then, he wore a couple of layers of warm winter clothing to be able to comfortably make it through the day without suffering from the cold temperatures.
He wore a warm vintage caramel brown bomber jacket from the fifties worn over a cozy turtleneck that was worn over a basic white t-shirt. Both the sweater and shirt were nicely tucked into his faded jeans, hugging his muscular body pretty well and making for great eye candy for one such tiny cheerleader. Even though he would've worn boots today, Claude opted for some old white and black Puma sneakers instead simply because they were much easier and quicker to put on. Overall, his fit was pretty well-suited for the winter climate.
At this very moment, he hung outside the school, specifically out in the parking lot, leaning and sitting against the hood of his Ford Maverick. Both of his hands were uncomfortably cold, and he could only blame himself for that since he had forgotten to put on his gloves this morning. "Bon sang!" ("Damn it!"), Claude silently cursed to himself in French before he started to rub his hands together frantically in an attempt warm them up.
It was working, to say the least, if just barely. But barely didn't cut it. To try and make sure his hands got warmer much quicker, he shoved them into the respective pockets of his jacket. Although the warmth wasn't immediately noticeable, he knew it would be a faster process to warm his hands than if he were to continue rubbing them together furiously.
Claude let out a tired sigh as he looked around the parking lot, watching as a crowd of students dispersed through the premises. As he watched them, he could've sworn he saw some very familiar red bow tips that stood out from the crowd. There was no doubt that they belonged to a certain someone he was close friends with.
He should probably go check on her to see what she's doing... but maybe in a bit. Right now, he was too focused on warming up his hands. "Maybe now I'll set those gloves on the nightstand now...", he mocked himself as he would now try to remember to do just that so he wouldn't have to suffer from uncomfortably cold hands in the near future. He craned his thick neck up and looked up at the gray clouded sky.
Why didn't he just get in his car, start it and turn the heater on to warms his hands up faster with it? Well the answer was simple; the heater wasn't working. Claude had no idea why or even so much as when it stopped working, but he surmised it must've been for a while now, to say the least. The young man had been planning to stop by the autoshop that Raya worked at for some time now, but he never got around to it... maybe she wouldn't mind if he dropped by today to see if she can fix it for him.
But he would worry about that later, because right now, he simply closed his eyes and waited for his hands to comfortably warm up.
Time passed and soon his hands were all warmed back up again, as a result, he sighed contently at the feeling. "Fina-", before Claude could finish what he was about to say before a white Camaro drove by, blasting a song so obnoxiously loud that he instinctively covered his ears briefly, "Jeez Stella...", he uttered as he winced while watching Stella briefly slow down to say something to who he assumed were other cheerleaders before accelerating and driving off.
If there was a time to check up on that certain cheerleader with the red bow tips, now was the time. Slowly getting off the hood of his car and standing up, Claude began to mosey on over towards where he assumed Sylvie would be, and he was right on the dot. The short blonde cheerleader was riding shotgun in the Mustang convertible of Clarissa, another cheerleader he was cool with. And right in the backseat was Marcy, who he was also cool with. Even though he heard about how the pink haired teen had gotten mixed up with Beel and gang of misfits, Claude genuinely didn't care for any of that. In his eyes, Marcy was still cool, and he tolerated her short temper and antics.
When he got closer towards the Mustang, he was on the passenger side of the car... which meant that he would end up closest with the one girl who always turned into a flustered red mess whenever he was around her, not like Claude seemed to notice. A small and friendly smile appeared on Claude's face as he leaned forward on the car door.
Not wanting to take up much of their time, Claude simply planned of dropping by to say hi and catch up with the girls.
Phone in hand. Clarissa killed Spotify, slow enough that a blip of song made it into her earbuds. Kehlani? She removed the buds before she could satiate her curiosity, because she had friends to drive around and a car to focus on to drive those friends around in. Not one of the coolest cars on campus, but hers, and cool for that reason alone.
130 N Bartholomew... 89145... She drove down to that mall regularly! With friends and with other friends and occasionally by herself but the last one was not so often. She remembered The Frog. Which maybe had something to do with The Barrel? But she usually didn't remember the names of the stores in the mall. She could walk her way to X Y Z store blindfolded from any exit but usually when other friends mentioned what X Y Z store was actually called she just guessed it was the one associated with the turn left turn left turn right past the fountain then the window front display that formed out of her depths of her memories.
"Is Connect Pour the one with the beanbag chairs?"
She nodded as Sylvie took shotgun and Marcy took the back. Sylvie was maybe too short to be in the front seat but Nevada had no legally required minimum height for that. Clarissa smiled a bit, in that way that wasn't actually on her face but felt like a smile anyways? The type people couldn't actually see. She was happy her friends looked cozy in her car. Always good to see. Clarissa adjusted the air vents so everyone could wear their own safety blanket of warm air. Almost as important as the safety of seatbelts, which she double checked for.
Noises.
Vroom vroom. Gunshots and cash register noises. Engine was purring, cat purr, the woofer was bark bark barking. 6.2L V8 engine. 2023 Camero ZL1, white. Car that handled amazing for only a little tradeoff on acceleration speed. Bit of a bitch to maintain, often came into the office with engine overheat and leaks. The '23 ZL1 in candy white meant one girl on the team.
Saying bye as she bang bang bang and took their money. As she had visas in her name, et cetera.
Stella. Her jokes were funny. Smart. A bit mean but in a way that didn't hurt. She walked with swag. She talked like a valley girl for some reason except when she was at parties and had put away a cocktail- hi Joanne- too many. She had great music taste. She liked Clarissa's taste in clothes and accessories. Hah! Like any of Clarissa's friends agreed with her on that hot as the sun take.
Stella had teeth dentists would marvel at. Hair the painters of history couldn't recreate. She was every insanely hot TikTok alt girl in seemingly impossible fit and makeup but existing in actual real life. She made Clarissa wonder what it would be like if it were her shapely soft lips half an inch from Clarissa's own, barely lit up by the moon and stars frozen in the sky above,
AND THEN
Clarissa would immediately feel really guilty and, at once, stop thinking those thoughts. Before it was too late. Stella made Clarissa a bit relieved there were no more curbs left to trip like an idiot over.
In reality Clarissa's eyes briefly glazed over. Her fingers, stiff from the sensation of static, subconsciously explored the curls of her own hair for a moment.
"Uh..."
Clarissa still had the situational awareness- barely- to know not to raise her car's roof yet.
"Sylvie, three o'clock."
130 N Bartholomew... 89145... She drove down to that mall regularly! With friends and with other friends and occasionally by herself but the last one was not so often. She remembered The Frog. Which maybe had something to do with The Barrel? But she usually didn't remember the names of the stores in the mall. She could walk her way to X Y Z store blindfolded from any exit but usually when other friends mentioned what X Y Z store was actually called she just guessed it was the one associated with the turn left turn left turn right past the fountain then the window front display that formed out of her depths of her memories.
"Is Connect Pour the one with the beanbag chairs?"
She nodded as Sylvie took shotgun and Marcy took the back. Sylvie was maybe too short to be in the front seat but Nevada had no legally required minimum height for that. Clarissa smiled a bit, in that way that wasn't actually on her face but felt like a smile anyways? The type people couldn't actually see. She was happy her friends looked cozy in her car. Always good to see. Clarissa adjusted the air vents so everyone could wear their own safety blanket of warm air. Almost as important as the safety of seatbelts, which she double checked for.
Noises.
Vroom vroom. Gunshots and cash register noises. Engine was purring, cat purr, the woofer was bark bark barking. 6.2L V8 engine. 2023 Camero ZL1, white. Car that handled amazing for only a little tradeoff on acceleration speed. Bit of a bitch to maintain, often came into the office with engine overheat and leaks. The '23 ZL1 in candy white meant one girl on the team.
Saying bye as she bang bang bang and took their money. As she had visas in her name, et cetera.
Stella. Her jokes were funny. Smart. A bit mean but in a way that didn't hurt. She walked with swag. She talked like a valley girl for some reason except when she was at parties and had put away a cocktail- hi Joanne- too many. She had great music taste. She liked Clarissa's taste in clothes and accessories. Hah! Like any of Clarissa's friends agreed with her on that hot as the sun take.
Stella had teeth dentists would marvel at. Hair the painters of history couldn't recreate. She was every insanely hot TikTok alt girl in seemingly impossible fit and makeup but existing in actual real life. She made Clarissa wonder what it would be like if it were her shapely soft lips half an inch from Clarissa's own, barely lit up by the moon and stars frozen in the sky above,
AND THEN
Clarissa would immediately feel really guilty and, at once, stop thinking those thoughts. Before it was too late. Stella made Clarissa a bit relieved there were no more curbs left to trip like an idiot over.
In reality Clarissa's eyes briefly glazed over. Her fingers, stiff from the sensation of static, subconsciously explored the curls of her own hair for a moment.
"Uh..."
Clarissa still had the situational awareness- barely- to know not to raise her car's roof yet.
"Sylvie, three o'clock."