Lauren swung her large tote over her shoulder and shut the door of Jon's car. She leaned against it and started digging through he bag. "Geez your such a babysitter." Jon chuckled. "Excuse me?" Lauren sasilly replied. "You know what I mean, you bring your whole house in that bag!"
"Hey, you have no idea how greatful people are when you take time to help them." She pushed her self off the car and began walking up the front steps of the house. "Yeah but you have no idea how fun it is to actually let lose and enjoy yourself instead of spending the whole night taking care of other people." Jon retorted.
Lauren couldn't think of a reply so she just shruged and knocked on the door. A colledge age guy opened the door, looked at them and threw it open. Lauren and Jon threw their jackets into the heaps filling the front hall. Lauren pulled some Arizona Iced Tea out of her bag, thanked jon for the ride, and walked straight up to the DJ.
She spent the next hour and a half chatting to the him. He was a senior at one of the cities other highschools. She chatted to the crowd, attracted by the volume of the speakers, the cute DJ, or a song request. Lauren was discussing all the genres of Rock music when Jon came out of nowhere. "Hey I have a friend I think you should meet."
Lauren and Jon weaved their way through the house and crowd."His name is Rio, and hes a little queer, btw." "Firstly theres no way to be 'a bit' queer, and seccondly they're better be a good reason you want me to meet this guy." " Actually he pretty reciently started attending bratlake, figured you'd appreciate knowing someone on monday."
"Right, and being friends with the local queer is going to help how?" Jon glared at Lauren. "Just be thankful, and give him a chance." Lauren rolled her eyes and came to a stop next to Jon. The rather scene guy infront of her was cute, Lauren couldn't see any difference in his attitude. She gave a two finger salute, "Lauren Loughlen, who're you?"

((Lauren is still totally open for interactions ))

"You know very well what I mean."

Much like Riley had suspected, his question prompted a reply from Faye that was neither pleased, nor meant to let him off the hook, and even though he was back to not being able to look her in the eye, he felt her gaze weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. All because he didn't know when to shut the h*ll up. Or rather, all because he knew when to shut up, but was apparently completely incapable of actually doing it.

"And I'm guessing you still need to find the money you owe Tyler Young?", she added, not as much as a question as a statement.

Yeah, that...
Riley shifted uneasily where he sat, for several reasons. Firstly, because Faye was looking at him the way she did, and because she was right. Secondly, because the mere mention of Tyler's name made his gut hurt in memory of the other day, as well as the knowledge that unless Riley could avoid him, come Monday, he'd be in for something even worse. Something he wasn't sure he'd be able to walk away from on his own. Odds were he'd have to be carried. Thirdly, because he had gotten some of the money he owed Tyler... by stealing from a friend. He'd pawned Deb's necklace within an hour of having stolen it, before he'd had a chance to have second thoughts and change his mind. Well, actually, he'd done that the entire way to the pawn shop, but he'd been too gutless to turn back and return the necklace to her. As long as he didn't have to admit to her what he had done, he didn't have to admit it to himself either. As long as he didn't have to see the hurt and the disappointment in her eyes, he could just pretend he'd found the necklace somewhere, or that it hadn't belonged to a friend. Then, when he'd gotten to thinking that he could just try to return it to her anonymously, so that she'd never know it was him who had taken it in the first place, gutlessness had reared it's ugly head once again; if he did that, he'd be back to having no money at all to give Tyler on Monday. A hundred bucks was far from all he owed him, but at least it was something, and it just might be enough to buy him a respite for the rest.

"I have... some savings", Faye continued, as she didn't seem to be expecting an answer - and even if she had, Riley doubted he would've been able to give her one - though her voice had lost the firmness from before, and now sounded almost hesitant instead, as she went on to slowly elaborate; "About two hundred bucks. It's yours."

Having looked up in pure reflex when she'd mentioned her savings, a long moment followed the rest of her statement, where Riley just stared at her. What did she just say? She'd give him two hundred dollars?! To pay off Tyler?! Why?

Wait, no. No, she wouldn't give it to him. She might be crazy, but she wasn't that crazy. There'd be a catch, a condition. And it wasn't hard, when he took a moment to think about it, to realize just what that catch would be. Contrary to what his behaviour lately suggested, Riley wasn't stupid, and he knew Faye. She wouldn't just give him the money. She'd lend it to him, and he'd be indebted to her instead, and not get beaten up by Tyler. There'd probably be no interest added either. But she would expect him to pay her back. And that might not be all she'd expect.
God...

She couldn't do this to him. She couldn't make him do this to her. Because Riley knew he wouldn't be able to stick to whatever rules she'd lay out for him. When he'd bought stuff from Tyler on credit, he'd known what would happen if he didn't pay up, but he'd made himself ignore it. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Tyler Young was only a problem to Riley, when Tyler Young was around. When he wasn't, owing him money hadn't been a big deal in Riley's mind, and whatever money he'd managed to get his hands on, was better off spent on buying more, than paying for what he'd already used up. If Faye lent him two hundred dollars, who was to say he wouldn't be the same way with her? Especially since she wasn't likely to beat him up if he didn't pay her back. And just look at what he'd done to Deborah. He'd turned into a thieving b*stard with her.

Though that really did gnaw at him, the thought of having stolen from Deb. It gnawed at his conscience, and had done so since the second he'd slipped that necklace of hers into his pocket. That theft, along with the money and the other stuff he'd stolen from his parents, really did haunt him. And with nothing to take the edge off of the guilt this time, the dam suddenly burst, all over again:

"Faye, don't", Riley groaned miserably. "I can't. I'll mess up. I've already messed up, so bad, you don't even know... You can't trust me. You can't. I'll ruin it."


(((ooc: Pssst! Where is everyone??)))

Katie wanted to go and hide somewhere, wash her hair, see if the punch was staining her dress, the thing probably had cheap dye that would wash away to a shade of murky green under the citric acid and red 40. Penny looked two steps away from hysterics, Katie wasn't feeling much better, Esteban had come here for who knew what reason to talk smack, and she just.. couldn't handle it.

Her breathing was as slow as it could get while she was awake, as close to being hyperventilating as it could be while still having eight counts for breaths. Her eyes darted around, trying to find a graceful way out without taking the very easy, very humiliating way, of starting sobbing.

That thought almost stopped her breathing. No. Just no. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction of knowing they'd gotten to her. It wouldn't take much smarts to figure out that getting punch dropped on one's head was deeply unpleasant, but she wasn't going to give them any feedback on how terrible it was. She turned her attention away from the boys away from Penny, away from everything except calming herself down. Her eyes closed, her breathing was deep and slow and even, and finally her hands had no desire to tremble, her expression was not in any danger of curdling, and she was ready to deal with whatever was coming, if not gracefully, then without embarrassing herself.

Her eyes opened and she saw a cup arcing through the air, and her eyes darkened slightly. Whoever it was, was being awfully original, and oh so classy. She had thought too soon though, as she saw a single ice cube pass by Ethan's head. Despite the situation, and her own sticky state, she couldn't help grinning wanly, until she saw that it was Esteban who'd thrown the empty cup, and, with great effort, out of some degree of solidarity, she went back to looking just the littlest bit annoyed.

And then the guys were fighting each other. She couldn't hear what they were saying over the small distance seperating them, and she could barely see over the sudden surges forward and back in the crowd to see what was going on and stay out of the way, respectively. It took her a second, but finally she decided that things were way out of control, and she had to do something. She wormed her way out the back of the growing circle of people watching, and panned her gaze around the dance floor.

It was so loud! Why had she helped them improve the acoustics? She could barely hear herself think, and the chaperones probably couldn't either, hence why they weren't there.

When she got to the nearest group of chaperones they were all standing in a circle, chatting away. Group was the cheer coach, the football coach, and English teacher, and two randoms. Not people she could call in favors from if she had to. She kept walking, until finally she found Mrs. Jaym talking to the lacrosse coach. Perfect. Someone who would listen with utter bias towards what she had to say, and someone who would be able to pick apart a bunch of brawling teenagers. The coach also appeared to have a whistle, which might help with the sound.

She went up to Mrs. Jaym and tapped her on the shoulder, which caused the biology teacher to wave behind her ineffectually for a moment, before turning to face Katie.

"Katherine! How wonderful to see you, and don't you look lovely," she gushed, not even looking at her, and probably not able to see the punch stains even so. It was really dark in this corner of the room, not even the little security windows by the ceiling, and as far from the flourescents and the discoball as you could get.

"I'd love to chat Lisa," Katie said, not even devoting her usual moment of thought to whether it was weird that she was on a first name basis with the biology teacher. "But there are a bunch of guys ganging up on somebody over there," she pointed, "and I think the poor guy is getting really badly hurt."

Almost immediately after she pointed, Lisa and the lacrosse coach were darting over, and Katie followed, much slower, recovering from the effort to sound calm. This was so hard, she wanted to sit in a bathroom for a while and just meditate. Actually, she had her keys to the school, she could just chill in an empty classroom, where absolutely no one could bother her, because she would lock the door. Yes, that's what she would do, once she confirmed that everything was all right here, and that Penny had a ride home. She actually didn't know if she herself did, since she hadn't seen Jude at all in the press of people anywhere.

She was probably twenty feet away from where the boys had been fighting each other when she left, when a piercing whistle cut through the din of the music, the chatterring people, and everything else. The effect was immediate, and with only the music playing, it was a heck of a lot quieter. Most of the people in the circle were backing off to go anywhere but there, but a few cheerleaders, Tony, and the guys that had actually been fighting were still there. She was glad that Penny had had the good sense to leave, and she wouldn't worry about why Tony would still be sticking around. Stupid freshman.

Mrs. Jaym was standing with her hands on her hips, surveying the scene, the bloodied boys and the people who hadn't left immediately, and she hissed, almost inaudibly, but Katie knew everyone had heard it, "What, on earth, is going on?"

A few quick glances around gave Katie plenty of time to arrive fully in the circle. "Mrs. Jaym," she began, making surre to observe proper forms, she was going to suffer enough for this at practice, might as well not add teacher's pet commentary, "my friend Penny and her boyfriend were here, dancing together minding their own business, when Cynthia, for no reason, out of nowhere, dumped a cup of fruit punch on her head."

She glanced around, so far nothing was even an exaggeration, though none of the cheerleaders looked happy. Though it was possible they couldn't even hear her. "So I figured the decent, friendly thing to do would be to stand up for my friend, and then one of the football players dumped punch all over me. I wasn't going to do anything on my own of course" (that was such a lie. Maybe a better statement would be, 'do anything right then', but she'd pick up on that), "that's what the school and the discipline codes and stuff are for."

She allowed her lower lip to tremble for a moment, both to give an impression that she was close to tears, and to allow her to get a little more air into her still non functioning brain, and frame the next part as close to the truth as possible while not being incriminating. "And then Esteban came over to try to help, and they just ganged up on him after he hardly did anything!" Her voice rose slightly there, and the very absurdity of the fact that she was almost telling a lie to defend someone who had pulled her into a closet and scared the crap out of her less than a week ago was too much. She covered her face entirely with her hands to hide her grin, and her gasping laughter sounded sort of appropriately sad.

Mrs. Jaym was staring murderously at the still assembled people, and patting Katie's still slightly sticky back, which was shaking with her supressed mirth, and the release was doing more than anything to calm her down. So, mean things in proper channels were in motion. What was she going to do about this on her own time though?

((OOC: Sorry for the wait. Hope it was okay with everyone))

Student Application -
Name: Brilee Alexis Ward
Age/Class: 16/Junior
Clique: Prep
After School Activity: AV Club; Possibly Cheerleading

Brief History:
Brilee grew up in Brooklake yet spent little time in the Brooklake public school system. Most of her education was spent in the finest private academies. As a matter of fact, her whole existence depended on the best of the best. Her father was the CEO of a local architecture firm and required the highest quality for his family, and he wouldn't settle for anything less than perfect. Some would call Brilee blessed, many would call her spoiled but all agree that she lives well above standard means. Everything was perfect for her nuclear family until a "book keeping" incident cost her father his job.
The loss of her father's job triggered a series of life changing events for Brilee. In order to pay back the debt, the family sold their multimillion dollar house and most of their belongings. With very little money left to their family name, the Ward's relocated across town to a small house in the suburbs. Brilee's father, Tom, bounced from temp job to temp job trying to keep food on the table for his family and a roof of some type over their heads. Brilee's mother, LeighAnn, fell deep into a depression. As the daughter of a wealthy politician, LeighAnn had never worked a day in her life or had any inclination of what it was like to struggle. Brilee and her sister Haley were forced out of private school, their almost-identical convertible Volkswagen Bugs were repossessed, and their extra curricular activities were halted in order to repay the debt Tom had accrued.
Brilee was as devastated as her mother. Her life was over. Her "friends" mocked her and her "enemies" shunned her. On top of that all her belongings were sold, and her family became the laughing stock of the country club. Now her father expected her to pick up her life in a town she never admitted belonging too.
Who exactly was he kidding?

Personality Description:
Anything else you might want to add:
Brilee's childhood was spent in and out of beauty pageants. Her mother pushed for Brilee to be the best that she could, or rather the best that her (LeighAnn) herself could not be. Brilee spent her childhood humoring her mother by learning the necessary facts, mastering the stupid dances, and perfecting beauty. There was little playtime for this budding beauty queen. This "all work no play" attitude not only pushed Brilee to be determined but eventually led to resentment towards her mother. At the height of her “career” Brilee took it upon herself to drop out and pursue other creative interests.

Her passion for music developed through her early teen years and, with the aid of her confidence and popularity, landed her a permanent gig deejaying at her preparatory school during assemblies, dances, and theatrical performances. But Brilee's musical experience didn't stop at just deejaying, she soon fell in love with the visual medium and soon combined the the two mediums for a new experience.

Outside of the studio, Brilee dedicated her life to cheerleading. To Brilee cheer leading was a mixture of her two favorite things, dance and music.

Her "no shit" attitude along with her connections guaranteed that no one would cause her grief. However, being Miss Popularity, Brilee did not usually have to resort to such extremes. Usually people would cling to her bubbly personality. Even though Brilee was always the center of attention, which was exactly what she wanted, inside the held the baggage from a lack of parental involvement. Her father, being the CEO of a company, was hardly ever home. He usually spent a large amount of time on the road and away from his family. To her mother, this was ideal. Her father's money was present, but he himself was not. For LeighAnn this meant lavish shopping sprees, the hippest parties, and the sexiest of male house service members. The only exception to the all male staff was Mirna, the twins live in nanny. A young woman herself, Mirna lived with the Ward's and practically raised both girls.

Picture:
(hope I did this correctly)


Approachable

"Well, young man, your mother and I want you home by midnight. Not a minute later."

"Yes, Sir."

In the Adams residence, Rio was getting ready to head out for the party at Billy Wickham's place, and was receiving the customary rundown of the rules from his father, who for some reason seemed to be under the impression that his son had the memory of a gold fish, and thus kept forgetting said rules from one weekend to the next.

"No drinking", his father instructed.

"No, Sir."

"No smoking."

"No, Sir."

"No drugs."

"No, Sir."

"And stay out of trouble."

"Yes, Sir."

'Trouble', Rio knew, was James Adams' code for romantic involvement with another boy. Incidentally, that last 'Yes Sir' was Rio Adams' code for 'not if I can help it'. Almost two years had passed since Rio had revealed his sexuality to his parents, yet his father was still refusing to acknowledge it as such. As far as he was concerned, it was just a phase, a burst of teenage rebellion on Rio's part, and he did his best to smother it, by being strict with his son, and keeping him away from perverts, and other misguided young men such as Rio himself. Hence Rio's own code just now. Had his father known that the host of the party he was going to, was exactly one such "misguided" young man, and that Rio had dated him a couple of times over the past few months, Rio wouldn't have made it out of the house. His father would have forbidden him to go. But, what James Adams didn't know wouldn't hurt him, and more importantly, it wouldn't hurt Rio either, and so a little lie had been most called for, in Rio's opinion. Heck, for all he knew, at the end of the evening it might even have ended up being God's honest truth if he was unlucky, considering the current dry spell he was suffering, since he and Billy had agreed they didn't quite click as a couple, even though they got along just fine as friends. So yeah, maybe it would turn out not to be a lie after all. Although he did of course intend to do what he could, to make sure that it was. This dry spell had lasted long enough.

"What's 'Team Jacob'?"

Surveying his son's attire , Rio's choice of shirt had apparently gotten James' attention. But, Rio knew his father, and so had already prepared a perfectly smooth answer;

"It's a band, dad."

Another lie, but hey, it wasn't Rio's fault his father had no sense of humor. Or clue regarding popular teenage culture; he bought Rio's explanation without another word, and only gave a curt nod in final approval, even though Rio knew he really didn't appreciate his son's general style of dressing, or doing his hair.

"I'll see you later", Rio said as he reached for his jacket, and then the door.

"Have fun!", called his mother from the living room, just as the door fell shut behind him.

Finally. He was out of the house. And he didn't look back. Not because life at his house was in any way bad, really, but like any teenager, he liked his parents in small doses, and the minor lecture he had to go through every time he was going out to a party or some such, kind of got on his nerves. Thus, it was indeed a relief to get out of there, and be on his way to Billy's house. Even if it was freezing outside. Though thankfully, Billy's house wasn't really all that far away. Walking at a brisk pace, it took Rio only about fifteen minutes to get there, and before long, he was back in the warmth of a house. Only this one was far more crowded that the previous one, with people everywhere. Talking, drinking, laughing, some dancing, and some just standing around, watching it all. Rio, being among the most recent arrivals, first joined the latter, while catching his bearings and trying to locate the few people he knew, but had soon found a couple of them, and so joined them instead. One of them was Jon, a goth guy he'd gotten to know through Billy, and who tonight claimed to have a friend with him that he wanted Rio to meet, since apparently, she was supposed to attend Brooklake, starting Monday. Thus, told by Jon to wait while he went to get his friend, Rio lingered there by the bar cabinet in the living room, until he returned with a girl around his own age in tow. A strawberry blonde with a fresh, freckled face, currently donning and expression of not being all too impressed with whatever Jon had just said to her.
Oookay...

"Lauren Loughlen", she introduced herself with a sloppy salute that would've had Rio's father seeing red, and for that very reason drew the faintest of smirks from Rio, "who're you?"

Well, that was... straightforward, and not really what Rio had expected. This being Jon's idea and all, Rio had thought he'd at least let his friend know who she'd been about to meet, and why.

"Nice introduction, dude", he quipped sarcastically at Jon with a grin, before turning his attention back to Lauren. "Rio Adams. Brooklake guide extraordinaire. Well, not really, but among this lot, I'm probably the closest you'll get to it. If you ever need one, that is. Jon said you're starting there next week?"


(((ooc: whitewater - Welcome! Always great to have more people join. Hope you'll enjoy the game. As I tend to say to all new players when they join, if you ever have any questions, don't hesitate to ask, either in the thread or through PMs, and if you're interested in coming up with plots, backstories, or character connections, pretty much all players here are always interested, myself included. I'm just kicking off a new character myself with this post. )))

"Rio Adams. Brooklake guide extraordinaire. Well, not really, but among this lot, I'm probably the closest you'll get to it. If you ever need one, that is. Jon said you're starting there next week?"

“Yeah just finished moving yesterday. Anyway I don’t need a guide, I'm fine by myself.” Lauren crossed her arms and shot Jon another dirty look. He just smiled innocently and nudged her with his elbow. “Fine, I suppose I might need someone to help me separate fact from fiction. I'm not really used to hanging with preps…” Lauren mumbled.

She chugged her iced tea and looked around again. ‘Why the hell is it so hard to talk to this guy?’ She wondered. ‘Maybe I actually do have a problem with queers… nah! It’s probably just that he’s trying to help me.’ It was about that time that she realized that she was probably being rude to the one person who might be able to help her come Monday. She turned back around to find Jon and Rio talking again, she waited for a gap in their conversation & caught Rio’s eye. “Sorry, I'm not usually like this.” Lauren explained. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind. I’d be happy to have you as my guide.” She finished her apology with a genuine smile. “What do you think is the most important thing to know about Brooklake?”

Brilee pulled her jacket closer to her body. The sun was starting to set and the temperature was plunging as well. The log beneath her was suddenly uncomfortable. How long had she been here, She wondered.

Truth was she had spent most of the day in the same spot. She hardly wanted to move. It was a pity party and only she was invited.

Brilee heard the sound of twigs snapping behind her, footsteps, Brilee tensed as the snapping got closer.

Brilee felt the weight of someone sit down beside her. She turned her head enough to see her sister’s back out of the corner of her eye. Haley laid her head on Brilee’s shoulder, and Brilee suddenly felt that everything would be okay.

The sisters sat for a moment, silently trying to heal each other’s wounds. Haley carefully lifted her head to look her sister in the eyes. “So, I found some guys. They say there’s this happening party,” she stopped, looking Brilee in the eyes. “Want to go? Start this new chapter with a bang,” Haley taunted, elbowing her sister in the side. Brilee smiled weakly. “Yeah, I’ll go get ready.”


An hour later the boys’ SUV pulled to a stop behind a line of cars. Haley was out of the car promptly and half way to the building before Brilee could unbuckle her seat belt. Brilee exited the vehicle gracefully, pulling the boy known as Courtland behind her.

The doors to the school were already open; Haley was disappearing inside with two guys at her side. Brilee slid in, following suit to drop her jacket in the growing pile by the door. Courtland guided her along a wall towards an area where the crowd was thin. Although she thought the night was still young, the place was packed. Bodies were everywhere standing, dancing, and kissing. It was almost like her old life.

Courtland pulled her close and pushed her hair away from one of her ears, “I’m going to get us some drinks, anything special?” Refusing to yell over the music, Brilee shook her head and watched Courtland disappear into the crowd.

If Rio's first impression of Lauren had been that she for whatever reason didn't seem all too keen on being introduced to him - seriously, she'd looked like Jon was trying to make her befriend Crazy Cat Lady or something - when next she opened her mouth, it didn't exactly help him change his mind. Especially not considering the way that, along with her rather dismissive reply, she folded her arms over her chest all defence-like, the way people do when trying to subtly distance themselves from whoever they're speaking to, or the subject under discussion.

"Yeah just finished moving yesterday", she said, as she shot Jon a dark glare. "Anyway I don't need a guide, I'm fine by myself."

Okay then... Clearly not the friendliest girl in the bunch, was she? Frankly, Rio couldn't help but to wonder why on earth Jon had wanted him to meet this one in the first place. He knew enough people that were being snooty to him already, it wasn't like he needed to add another one to the list.
Then again, maybe she was just having a bad day? For even though Jon didn't look particularly surprised by her attitude, like he was used to it all, it could just as well be that he knew she was in a bad mood, and was trying to make her relax.

"Fine", she muttered when he gave her a litte nudge, as though she was resigning but wasn't particularly happy about it, "I suppose I might need someone to help me separate fact from fiction. I'm not really used to hanging with preps..."

Rio's brows furrowed ever so slightly. Wait, what? What did she mean by that? 'Not really used to hanging with preps'? Who said anything about preps? Surely she didn't think Rio was one? Did he look like he spent $100 on a pair of underwear, and had had a full frontal lobotomy?
Honestly...

"Okay...", he said slowly, as Lauren then seemed to lose interest in the conversation and turned away from them, and he himself turned his gaze back to Jon in silent question, but only got a carefree shrug as an equally silent reply. "So... Have you seen Billy anywhere? I'd like to say hi."

"Yeah, I think he's in the kitchen."

"'K, thanks", Rio said with a slight smile, and was just about to slip between Jon and Lauren to head for the kitchen, when Lauren caught his gaze once more.

"Sorry", she told him, in a tone that was now far more pleasant and friendly than before, "I'm not usually like this. I guess I just have a lot on my mind. I'd be happy to have you as my guide. What do you think is the most important thing to know about Brooklake?"

And what do you know? She actually had a really nice smile, once she decided to lighten up a little. One that was warm and natural, and that reached her emerald eyes with an inner glow. The kind of smile that on it's own would tend to put other people at ease.
Though as for her question;

"Well...", Rio started, after giving her a briefly scrutinizing look, which then turned into a faint smile of his own, as a sign of accepting her apology and being willing to start over. "It's not all preps, you know? There are some really cool people. I still haven't gotten to know anyone all that well, but it's got quite a few characters. Oh, and apparently there's this winter formal tonight, in the gym hall. I was thinking of checking it out later. Wanna come with?"

Name: Dakota Light
Age/Class: 16
Clique: Goths
After School Activity: Art Club
Brief History/Personality Description: Quiet and shy, she's almost always lurking in the corner, watching everyone have fun. She rarely speaks, but her voice is beautiful. She used to have a very close bond with her father. He taught her how to draw, read, and do her best. Now, he's laying in a grave... long story short.
She loves singing and drawing, yet most of her songs are sad, and her art is.. gorey. But it's perfect. She also loves skipping classes, the only one she attends is reading, homeroom, and art club (which really isnt a class :P) the rest of the time she either a. locks herself in the bathroom or b. fiddle with the computers in the computer room thingy x3 She always brings her kitten, Shadow, to school, and usually gets sent to the office for it. But he's so cute! <3 Shadow was a gift from her father, the day before he died. She always wanted him with her. Thats why she brings bags of catfood to the few classes she actually goes to. She always wears a Metallica hoodie over a white tanktop, and never takes if off, for fear someone will think she's even weirder when they see the scars and blood that are smeared across her arms. She also tries to cover up her ankle tattoo, which she got when she was 10. Her dad was a tattoo artist. She got her hair done when she was 14.
Anything else you might want to add: She's a new student, her mom signed her up.. err.. really late. xD She HATES HATES HATES HATES preps. If one goes near her, she jams a pencil into their eyes. Please, do not get your preps near her.
Picture: In attachments.

If I forgot anything, please let me know.

(Sorry if we're not supposed to rp until we're added :S)

Ring, ring, ring, ring. The alarm-clock on her bed-stand rang right in her ear. She moved her hand and tried to smash it, but instead, knocked her porcelain cat off the bed-stand. "Crap!" she muttered, crawling out from under the white and black covers and turning off the alarm. "DAKOTA! GET DOWNSTAIRS NOW! YOU SLEPT IN AN HOUR!" her mother yelled. Dakota yawned and slid down the banister, but not before slipping on a robe. "You're late for school. Go get dressed, then quickly eat your pancakes, then hurry out! This is your first day.. get off on the right foot, please?" "Whatever," Dakota said silently, walking up the stairs. She then ran back into her room, slipped on a white tank-top and her metallica hoodie, some black skinny jeans, smeared some black eyeshadow around her eyes, applied a thick and smudged eyeliner, then put on some black lipstick and cherry lip-gloss. She also smeared some eyeshadow on her cheek bone, to lazy to dip a special brush in special black blush. No one really looked at her, anyways. She then shoved a ton of books, notebooks, binders, folders, and cat-food bags into her giant lack book-bag, putting Shadow in her pocket. Shadow, used to her pocket, curled up on a few unused napkins, and nibbled on kitten treats that Dakota kept in there. Dakota slid down the banister again, flying to the table where the choclate chip pancakes laid. Her favorite! She gulped them all down, drank some milk, then whined about how her tattoo hurt. "Sweetie, you've had that for like, six years. It won't hurt any longer," her mother said, rolling her eyes at her daughter's attempt to stay home later. "Forgot gloves and braclet!" she screamed, running up the stairs and locking herself in her room. She peered through her window, smiling as she saw her mother head off to work. But, deciding to go to school, she slipped on her fingerless lace gloves and her skull bracelet, then she climbed out her window, falling into the mud below. Her excuse for being late? 'I fell out a window and into mud, then I got hurt- she quickly ran her razor across her face in various directions-, and then I had to check my facebook (which had no friends and she used for posting her poems), but then, my dog (which she did not have) ate one of my notebooks! So, then I had to go to Wal-mart and buy a new one, but then it burst into flames. So thats why I'm late AND have no notebook,' she pondered the excuse, nodded, and checked on Shadow. "Come on Shadow. We're going on a ride to a new school." Mud and blood dripped off her face and onto her clothing. She looked like a monster. She rubbed off some of the mud and blood around her lips, smearing her lipstick and lipgloss. "Well, I did fall out a window!" She smeared her makeup and poofed out her hair. She then jumped into a leaf pile, leaves sticking to her mixture of mud and blood. She then jumped into her black racecar, which had various dents and bloodstains (for unknown reasons). She then sped off to the school. She quickly climbed out of the car and tip toed into the school, leaving a trail of mud and leaves. (Anyone on?)

(((ooc: LittleTenshi - Welcome to the RP. One small problem here; we're currently not roleplaying morning class in school, we're in the process of RPing the winter formal dance in the gym hall, on a Saturday night. Also, while it is of course your choice to have your character hate preps, please be aware that by that last statement in your application, about not getting any preps near your character, you're basically excluding certain characters from interacting which yours, which might end up limiting your possibilities. Just something to keep in mind. Last but not least, (and again, you're free to RP your character how you please, this is just an observation/piece of advice), we're kind of opting for a rather realistic RP. )))

Behind her smile lauren was praying that Rio would accept her apology. "Well.." Rio began, looking her over with something less then satisfaction. Lauren groaned in her head. Sh*t, i've screwed up again... "It's not all preps, you know?" He smiled slightly, jokingly. Lauren could tell he had probably felt like she did, when ever he had started at Brookelake; he seemed nice enough, and pretty understanding. "There are some really cool people. I still haven't gotten to know anyone at all that well, but its got quite a few characters." Most likely counting you, Rio. "Oh, and apparently there's this winter formal tonight, in the gym hall. I was thinking of checking it later." Lauren smiled. This sounds like fun. And more importantly troubble; not that Lauren would get involved but it sure as h*ll was fun to watch. "Wanna come with?"

"Of course!" Lauren chimed and smiled. "Well, I guess that explains the lack of Brooklakers here. I think I have an idea to find out if anyone else wants to join. Hey, could I have your number, ya know, in case I come up with any more questions before monday?" Lauren was glad that she spet time chatting up the DJ, as he would soon prove to be pretty helpful. She figured the majority of Brookelake students that were here instead of the dance were here for a reason; but it couldnt help to check for other newbies. Or maybe even someone bored from the party & interested in a new venue.

Riley's plea, for Faye not to do this, to not give him the two hundred dollars she had saved, had been a genuine one. A very real, and very heartfelt one. To his mind's eye, there were visions playing out, of how she gave him the money to get himself out of debt with Tyler, and how he failed completely to do it. How, with the money in his pocket, he would keep trying to avoid Tyler, and turn to another dealer instead. How he would buy two hundred dollars worth of drugs, while the debt to Tyler remained. The hundred dollars he already had from pawning Deb's necklace were already burning a hole in his pocket. He may have made quite an effort lately, to numb himself, and lose touch with who he was, or at least parts thereof, but he did still know himself as a user. He knew how his way of thinking operated as such, and how by giving or lending him two hundred dollars, Faye was setting them both up for what would surely be the end of their friendship. She had the best of intentions, there was no doubt about that, but she didn't see it: He didn't trust himself. How could she?

"If you're worried about paying me back, you can forget it", she said, cementing that despite what Riley had thought, it wasn't a matter of him borrowing the money and paying off his debt to her instead of Tyler. "I meant what I said: it's yours."

A matter of being given the money on certain terms, however, was exactly what it was.

"There's just one condition", she added with determination, and Riley groaned inwardly, because he knew what was coming. "That this is the last deal you make with Tyler... or anyone else like him."

And there it was. The most dire condition possible, in Riley's eyes. The one that would tear apart their friendship when he failed, and let her down. Because he would. She was putting her trust in him, and it was a condition that left him indebted to her in a way he couldn't ever pay back, or repair when something went wrong. Money was just money - although granted, when you owed nearly four hundred bucks that you didn't have, there was nothing "just" about it - but trust was something else entirely. Trust between friends was a huge deal, and betraying it had consequences that went far beyond being unable to cough up a certain amount of money at a certain time. If he took the money, and then couldn't keep his end of the bargain, Faye would be so hurt and disappointed in him, and he wouldn't be able to bring himself to face her, and their friendship would be over. He so didn't want that. The mere thought of it really, really scared him.

But, he just couldn't quit cold turkey. He wasn't in a condition so bad he had to take the drug just to function properly, but he was hooked on the way it just made everything bad go away and gave him a little breather when he needed it the most. Without it, he would have to face the demons he'd been running from for months. He'd have to just sit there and wait for all the feelings to crash down on him full force, and he wouldn't have anything to help him cope. He needed the heroin. And while there might have been times when he did want to stop, he knew that the moment that he started feeling overwhelmed with what was going on around and inside of him, he wouldn't be able to resist. When at his worst, he would throw whatever promise he'd made to Faye to the wind, and go get high. Of that, he was certain.

At the same time... What options did he have? It wasn't as though he had a sea of possibilities to choose from, on how to get out of his debt to Tyler. In fact, other than stealing even more, he had none. None whatsoever. And, as good as he was at denying it and acting as though he didn't see it, Faye had woken him up to what he was doing to himself. She'd shown him a glimpse of what she saw when looking at him, and it wasn't pretty. It brought to life the realization Riley had buried carefully deep inside of him, of what he really was doing to himself. He wasn't completely blind to it, he'd just made himself that way every time he shot up.

So... Maybe quitting was the best option after all? Looking at it soberly, which currently, with his next fix a foot or so away from him rather than inside of him, he had no choice but to do, and despite the anxiety raging through him at the very thought of giving up the one thing that had given him comfort, Faye had had a point when she'd told him that escaping by shooting up was a temporary relief at best. Reality was back to smack him in the face within hours, and the nausea and the cold sweats when the heroin wore off didn't exactly make it any easier. Added to that, his tolerance was growing, which meant he would need more and more to feel the effect, and there was just no way in H*ll that he'd be able to afford it. Nor did he really dare to up the dosage. And as if that all wasn't enough, there was the constant feeling of letting people down, and of being watched. Riley had never been much into spiritualism and ghosts, but since Jordan's death, Riley did feel him there. Sometimes he even talked to him, and he just had this feeling, every time he did something bad, that Jordan saw it. And it always made him feel worse, and when he felt worse, he did more bad things, just to escape that feeling. It was a vicious circle, because a lot of what he was trying to block out, were the effects of the drug use itself. The lying, the stealing, the bad temper, the ever-present guilt...

A long silence had settled in the room, as the different aspects of Riley's being battled it out inside of him. The user versus Faye's friend, the normal teenaged kid. The voice of the drug habit versus the voice of reason. 'Inner turmoil' didn't even begin to describe what he felt, and he shoved his hands back into his hair in pure frustration, as each conviction to appear was overtaken by another, opposite one within moments, leaving him swinging helplessly back and forth between two very hard and two very different clarities.

"God...", he groaned, mostly to himself where he sat, cross-legged and almost doubled over.

It wasn't fair. She had him backed into a corner. Tyler had him backed into a corner. Heck, he had himself backed into a corner.

"Alright!", he finally caved in frustration, and straightened up to look at Faye, with all his fears shining in his eyes as he pleaded: "But you have to promise you won't hate me if I can't do it."

Rio was used to being the new kid in school. Over the years, consisting of frequent moving due to his father's transfers, he'd been 'the new kid' so much and in so many places that it had practically become part of his identity, and knowing no one and having to make new friends, as far as he was concerned, was simply part of life. As a result, he'd become an outgoing and straightforward young man, never shying away from meeting and approaching new people, and knowing better than to judge a book by it's cover. Stereotypes were pretty much just skin deep anyway, and most people, if just given a chance, were alright. Not everyone, granted, but most of them. There were still the haters that, no matter that you'd never said a single word to them, would judge you and condemn you for what you were, and sometimes even attack you for it, either verbally or physically. Rio had seen his fair share of those too, when they'd gotten on his case for being gay, or looking emo or, indeed, simply being the new kid. When people were out to target someone, there was usually no end to the reasons they'd find to do so. Though none of that had ever discouraged Rio, and he was still as outgoing and prone to approaching new people as always.

However, as used to being the new student as he was, that didn't mean he couldn't understand how someone who was the new student for the first time might feel, how nervous they might be, and far be it from him to not at least offer a shoulder to lean on if he could, along with whatever else might help make other new students feel a little more at ease at their new school. Such as, say, getting a chance to check out both the building itself and some of the students, without being made the center of attention, which was usually what happened to new students when starting their first class, since the teachers seemed to just love bringing them up in front of the whole class, and make them introduce themselves. So, having just learned that Lauren was to start at Brooklake come Monday, Rio had figured that checking out tonight's dance would give her a small chance at least, to prepare herself.
And as it would seem, Lauren - who in the last minute had seemed to change into an entirely different person from before; one that unlike the first, Rio found himself actually liking, so far - agreed;

"Of course!", she beamed at him. "Well, I guess that explains the lack of Brooklakers here. I think I have an idea to find out if anyone else wants to join. Hey, could I have your number, ya know, in case I come up with any more questions before monday?"

"Sure", Rio said without hesitation, as he started searching his pockets for something to write on, and with. "And that's a good idea, to see if anyone else feels like going too. If you should happen to find someone that has a car, that'd be great."

The last part, he added with a grin, just as he fished out a piece of paper from his jeans pocket, and a small, barely-there pencil from his hoodie. Then, bending slightly and using his own knee as a table, he quickly jotted down his cell phone number, and handed her the small piece of paper.

"Just don't call before ten a.m., 'k?", he said with a smile, and then, as something seemed to suddenly occur to him, added; "And not after ten p.m. either. Dad would have an aneurysm."

((sorry for the delay. my house still doesn't have internet, but it should be set up within the next couple weeks))


The music pounded with a bassline that he could hear in his bones, reverberating through the hollow of his chest—a second heartbeat. He had barely noticed when Katie disappeared into the crowd because in this moment, he lived for the fight, for the thrill of doling out some industrial strength ass-kicking. Hell, even taking a beating wasn’t so bad—at least it meant he was alive. And that thrill, it’s enough to make him forget his initial noble intentions.

After Ethan tackled him, Esteban grabbed two fistfuls of Ethan’s shirt and pulled him tightly into his body, closing the distance between them and stealing away the opportunity for Ethan to wind-up for a powerful blow.

He waited until Ethan made a mistake, then BAM! The instant he felt his attacker’s muscles shift to pull away, Esteban shoved him out and pulled one of his shoulders to the ground, flipping him over.

Dipsh*t doesn’t even know what hit him. My turn now.

Esteban instantly straightened his back, made fists with his hands, and pummeled into Ethan. His jaw still smarted from when Ethan managed to hit him earlier, and he sucked at the trickle of blood inside his mouth, turning it into a spring, and hammered his fists down with increasing violence.

Finally, a solid hit sent Ethan’s head into the ground, his brain rattling in his skull, and the dazed look in the jock’s eyes showing his disorientation. He’s not done yet, Esteban thought with satisfaction. Once a fight starts, it’s actually pretty heard to knock someone unconscious.

Suddenly, a pair of hands forcefully hoisted Esteban up as Ethan’s friends, Dan and Wes, decided to intervene. Despite his thrashing and attempts to get away, Dan managed to put Esteban in a firm lock. Esteban threw his head backwards, trying to butt him in the nose, but Dan was expecting it and dodged.

Wes, who had a nasty bruise forming on his cheekbone from earlier, stepped up and wound his arm back. Just before the punch connects, Esteban drops down then jerks upwards in Dan’s grip, avoiding a shot to the vulnerable solar plexus and taking it in the abs instead. A gust leaves his lungs, and he grits his teeth, willing the pain to subside.

The next time Wes closed in for another punch, Esteban launched forward, using Dan as a fulcrum, and kicked up into Wes’ right side, aiming for a crippling liver shot, the holy grail of any MMA junkie. As his kick connected, Dan pulled him back at the last second, stealing his momentum, and instead of an instant KO, Wes merely grabbed his side and winced in pain.

Angered, Wes swung and connected a brutal punch to Esteban’s face. There was a loud pop of colors, and his head snapped sideways. His brow was split open and bleeding. Esteban forced himself to regain his senses in time to harden his muscles before Wes buried his fist in his gut.

When Ethan arrived, Esteban leveled his eyes at him and shot him a smart-assed smirk. He spat on the floor, a mouthful of blood, and said with some exertion.

“Looks like your friends don’t think you can take me alone.”

Ethan answered by spitting into his face, and before the rage welling up inside him can spur him to action, Wes hit him in the ribs, the face, and the ribs again while Ethan stood back and taunted him.

Suddenly, a piercing whistle cut through the crowd, and the jocks froze. Dan loosened his grip on Esteban and pushed him away. He could still stand, despite the pain and dizziness he felt, but he let himself slump to the floor, propped up on one arm and the other clutching his stomach. His head cast down, blood running down one side of his face, he was panting harder than he needed to be. Looking more pathetic always helped with teachers.

“What on earth is going on?”

“Mrs. Jaym…”

Esteban looked up at the sound of Katie’s tremulous voice. He thought she looked a little nervous, but then again, she always seemed that way… maybe it was her general uptightness. He looked between her and Mrs. Jaym, then cast his eyes on the floor again.

"my friend Penny and her boyfriend were here, dancing together minding their own business, when Cynthia, for no reason, out of nowhere, dumped a cup of fruit punch on her head.“

Cynthia’s jaw dropped as if she’d just been insulted, and she shot Katie a look of disgust. It was so typical for Miss Goody Two Shoes to go the teachers like this and tattle. However, there wasn’t much she could say in response, no matter how much Penny had deserved it.

“So I figured the decent, friendly thing to do would be to stand up for my friend, and then one of the football players dumped punch all over me. I wasn't going to do anything on my own of course that's what the school and the discipline codes and stuff are for."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. Esteban coughed to conceal his chuckle, not really sure if Katie was being serious or laying it on thick, but either way it was funny.

Katie took a deep breath before the next part, and Esteban wondered if she was going to rat him out. She had stayed quiet about his involvement in the prank so far, so he thought… probably not, but he couldn’t be sure. Either way, he was relieved when she finally blurted the rest of the story out in a show of histrionics.

“And then Esteban came over to try to help, and they just ganged up on him after he hardly did anything!"

She was trembling and covering her mouth with her hand, as if on the verge of tears. He was sure that she must be doing it for effect. Good girl.

“That’s so not fair!” Cynthia protested.

Mrs. Jaym leveled a death stare at Cynthia. “So, you didn’t dump a cup of punch on Penelope?”

Cynthia swallowed her next protest, unable to come up with an excuse that would sound good to a teacher, and instead glared evilly at both Katie and Mrs. Jaym.

“I’ve heard enough here. Cynthia, Ethan, Dan, Wes—you’re all following me to the Dean’s office. We’ve got some paperwork to fill out, and you can all forget about coming back to the dance tonight.”

Cynthia glowered, and as Mrs. Jaym turned to lead them away, Cynthia paused as she passed by Katie. In a low, seething whisper, she said, “I really hope you show up at cheer practice on Monday.”

If Nerdy Byrdy thought she had it bad before, then she had another thing coming.

"Hey, could I have your number, ya know, in case I come up with any more questions before monday?" Lauren asked.

"Sure", Rio said without hesitation, as he started scratching in his pockets for something to write on, and with. "And that's a good idea, to see if anyone else feels like going too. If you should happen to find someone that has a car, that'd be great." Lauren knew Jon wouldn't mind but figured that in case there were more people another car would most likely be needed.

Rio grinned as he fished out a piece of paper from his jeans pocket, and a stub of a pencil from his hoodie. He continued to bend his knee and raise a leg to use as a table. He quickly scrawled his number on the piece of paper. He handed it to Lauren who smiled, looked it over to check that it wasnt obviously fake, and tucked it into her jacket pocket.

"Just don't call before ten a.m., 'k?", Rio said smiling, then Lauren saw a lightbulb go off in his head as he realized something."And not after ten p.m. either. Dad would have an aneurysm." he added.

Lauren chuckled. "Strict parents, huh? Mine are pretty much the opposite, but I prefer not to get calls after eleven at night." She opened her tote and quickly pulled out a business-card sized piece of paper. I had her name and number already on it, along with an elaborate doodle of a cresent moon. Lauren always carried a few of these cards with her, so that she wouldnt have to stuggle to find paper and a pen; being the creative type she couldnt stand not drawing on them so each card had a different doodle. "Anyway, here's my number." She handed him the card. "Im going to ask the DJ for a favor. When you hear it you can just ignore it, any--oh!" Lauren stoped mid sentence, her eyes went wide as the speakers blared ~And I came here to make you dance tonight.~ Cobra Starship's Guilty Pleasure started playing. She instantly started tapping to the beat. Lauren grinned at Rio and put out her hand. "Wanna dance?" She leaned in a little and put her other hand on her hip playfully.

"Strict parents, huh?", Lauren said with a light laugh in response to Rio's afterthought, to which he gave a smile and a slight eyeroll, as if saying 'Ain't that the truth'.

Because it was indeed the truth, and one had to look no further than to what he'd been told by his father before going out this evening, in order to see it: a midnight curfew on a Saturday night. The Saturday night of the school dance, no less. Rio of course couldn't know for a fact, but judging by what he'd heard from others, and the experiences he'd made in the last place they'd lived before Brooklake, he was willing to bet that most of the other kids got to stay out a little longer. He even doubted that if they were late for the curfew they did have, they'd be grounded one whole week for every half hour they were late, like he was. That had been one of the more expensive experiences he'd made over the past couple of years, when after missing the last bus home from a friend's party, he'd decided to stick around until one of the other guys was going home, and catch a ride with him. He'd been house-bound for a whole month after that, save for the few hours he spent at school, and to a young man as social as Rio, it had been pure torture. Although truth be told, he was a little surprised he hadn't been ordered to do two hundred pushups, or run twenty laps around the property or something, considering James Adams often seemed to want to run his household the way he ran his troops of trainees. And considering he was also a firm believer of corporate punishment, it's was a minor miracle not only that he hadn't forced Rio to do any of those things, it was also miracle he hadn't forced Rio's mother to do them too!

"Mine are pretty much the opposite", Lauren went on to explain, "but I prefer not to get calls after eleven at night."

Having said that, she then went on to retrieve and hand him what looked like a business card, with her name and number on it, along with a moon doodled in one of the corners.

"Anyway, here's my number", she said, and seemed to be ready to get moving. "I'm going to ask the DJ for a favor. When you hear it you can just ignore it, any--oh!"

Halfway through the sentence, she suddenly cut herself off, her head perking up and her eyes growing a little wider at the song that had just come on. Apparently, it was one that she really liked, because the next moment, she was digging along to it, and even went on to hold out her hand for Rio in playful invite;

"Wanna dance?"

Very much enjoying her transformation into a rather more cheerful and exuberant young lady than before, as well as her new-found enthusiasm, Rio couldn't help but to grin, and even give a small laugh.

"Sorry", he said however. "Hate to be a bore, but I only slow dance. And..."

Glancing around in mock suspicion, and then leaning in closer, he added a conspiratorial;

"I don't know if anyone's told you, but I only slow dance with guys."

Apparently, when a girl asks her date the question “Does this dress make my <body part> look fat?” one is supposed to say “No.” Not only that, but once one says “Yes,” no amount of retractions can placate the girl in question. It didn’t make any sense. Why bother asking a question you don’t want to know the answer to?

Donnie felt more than a bit irked after Kim stormed off to the bathroom. Her friends followed closely after her, leaving their table without a word and throwing Donnie a “you jerk” look. This was another bizarre social code that girls had, using the bathroom in groups--some kind of strange solidarity about their collectively irrational behavior.

Ten minutes passed by, which was more than enough time for Kim to take care of either a number one or a number two, and so he figured Kim must be angry at him and was using the whole bathroom thing to avoid him rather than really having to go to the bathroom, which was always a possibility.

Donnie figured he might as well get some work done, so he pulled out his tablet from his messenger bag and began writing an article about the dance that documented this peculiar behavior. When a fight broke out, he decided to stay away from it. The last time he tried getting close to a fight , he ended up getting drawn into it somehow, and his equipment was simply too valuable to risk. When a very special tribute to Marie-Elisabeth began to play, he snerked and made a note of it in his report.

He couldn’t help but snigger a little when he saw Katie get a cup of punch dumped on her, but at the same time he felt kind of bad for it. After all, he did feel some tiny measure of nerd camaraderie with her, while the jocks like Ethan were like the Uruk-hai--primitive and brutish and dumb. He also wondered where Jude had disappeared to. He must have seen the bat signal or something to not be clinging to Katie whenever humanly possible tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, there was some girl that had been standing by herself for quite some time. Normally, this sort of thing woud not stir him to movement, but on second examination he realized that she must be Brilee Ward, his new student for tutoring.

Most tutors are only given a name when they are assigned students. A perfectionist and utterly thorough, Donnie took it upon himself to look up her entire dossier, previous test scores, academic and disciplinary history, family information, and anything that could be discovered via a wholly innocuous Google investigation, a few rounds of session hijacking, and several MYSQL database injections and queries. Completely standard stuff.

Donnie put his tablet away. He had a stack of worksheets in his bag that he had originally intended to give to Brilee during their first session next week, but he figured it would be better to give her the homework now so that she would have the weekend to work on it.

Donnie stood up and walked over to Brilee. Several students took notice of his pace and trajectory and looked over at him inquisitively then whispered amongst themselves. Donnie realized a few beats later that they must think he meant to flirt with or ask to dance with the new, attractive blonde student at their school, and he scoffed on the inside at their simple-mindedness.

“Brilee Ward?” he shouted in order to be heard over the music when he was next to her. He held out his hand for a handshake. “Hi, I’m your new tutor, Donnie.”

Normal people engage in a little small talk before business, Donnie reminded himself. It was horribly inefficient, but he supposed it was necessary. He tried to think of the most mundane question he could ask, which is usually what normal people like chatting about, and shouted again.

“Are you enjoying the dance so far?”

Rio grinned at Lauren and chuckled. "Sorry, hate to be a bore, but I only slow dance. And..." Rio glanced around and leaned a little closer jokingly.
"I don't know if anyone's told you, but I only slow dance with guys."

Lauren just couldnt help herself, she honestly didnt mean to but she bursted out laughing. She tried to snuff it out by covering her face with her hands, but it didnt make a difference. In the back of her mind Lauren was trying to figure out why she was laughing so much. The way Rio had said it was funny but not 'laugh so hard your on the floor crying' funny. Maybe she was just glad to have a new friend and he seemed like a pretty trustworthy guy? Maybe Laughing her head off was her way of getting rid of all the stress of a new school? or Maybe she was just insane? For whatever reason she laughed whole-heartedly for a while, but calmed down pretty quickly.

She stuck her tongue out playfully, "Its ok. Just thought you looked like you needed to dance a little." Rio grinned but didnt say anything. "Im going to head up to the booth, ill text you when were ready to go, mmkay?" Rio agreed and headed off in another direction as Lauren squeezed her way to the booth.

The DJ smiled at her reappearence and she quickly explained what she wanted him to do. Soon enough he agreed and spoke as the current song finished. "Heyy, this is a shout-out to all you Brookelakers head up here to the booth if you want to meet your fellow students and catch a ride to the dance. And heres Bad Romance, Lady GaGa." Over the next few minitues a rag tag group of kids had assembled by the booth, 8 were interested in going to the dance and the rest had just come to see what was happening. Lauren chatted to the other students and supprisingly 6 pretty quickly arranged to go in one of their vans, which left only two people. She started talking to one, rather mousy boy who was pretty easily convinceing himself not to go. She was bored out of her mind but she was trying to be as nice as possable, which ment flicking on her megawatt smile and flicking off her brain.

Brilee looked down at her watch. Courtland had been gone for a whole three minutes but it felt like ages. No one made Brilee wait for anything. No longer content standing and waiting, Brilee was ready to enter the crowd of dancing bodies.

Taking one last look around for Courtland, Brilee stepped forward only to stop before entering the mass of bodies.

Going to a new school was new territory for Brilee; however, the habits of teenage males were not. It seemed now since Brilee wanted nothing more than to get away from the sparse crowd that someone would see her and come over for a little private session on the back wall. Brilee glanced around, hoping that he was walking towards someone else, but everyone else along the wall was deeply engrossed in another person. Sh*t, Brilee thought, trying to think of ways to get herself out of this situation without hurting any feelings.

Watching him make his way towards her, Brilee made note of the determination in his walk. He didn’t walk towards her lazily, like you would walk towards someone before awkwardly asking them to dance, but more with purpose. As Brilee finished sizing him up, he stopped at her side.

“Brilee Ward?” he said, his voice just above the music and extended his hand. Brilee looked at his hand as if it had grown an extra finger. Thoughts consumed her mind. Why does he know my name? How do I know him? And most importantly, wait, have I pissed him off in the past? She returned the gesture as he answered all of her questions with a simple statement, “Hi, I’m your new tutor, Donnie.”

Relief rushed down Brilee, but the confusion was replaced with anger, not towards Donnie but to the school. How dare they already line her up with a tutor! It’s not that her grades were that bad. Well, math was pretty low, but had she went to class it wouldn’t have been a problem.

“Are you enjoying the dance so far?” Donnie asked, putting an end to her internal rant. “It’s about average, but the little ordeal that just played out over there,” Brilee said glancing where she just witnessed a poor girl get drenched in punch, “definitely adds a bit spunk.”

A few silent moments passed between them as Brilee looked around the room surveying the lights and the people. It was a bit to quiet between them, especially for Brilee’s standards.

“Is it usually like this? I mean, I’m new. Should I fear for my life?” She asked trying to be funny but she felt like she missed it.

From what Rio had seen of Lauren so far, she seemed to be quite a character, with a temperament unlike any other. Reserved, dismissive and downright surly at first, only to turn genuinely friendly a minute later, and then go from there to now practically laughing her butt off at comment that although expressed with a sense of humor still carried an entirely true message. Now those were some serious moodswings, even for a teenaged girl. Not that Rio minded, really, it was simply more of an observation. And hey, maybe it wasn't the comment itself she found so extremely funny, maybe there was something more to it. Maybe it made her nervous or uncomfortable, and laughing was her way of hiding it, or maybe Jon had said something about it to her before he'd brought her over, and the context made it funny to her. Either way, he decided not to question it, but just let it slide.

"It's ok", Lauren said once she'd calmed down, and stuck her tongue at him in a way that made him smile, knowing then that at least she hadn't been offended or discouraged by being turned down. "Just thought you looked like you needed to dance a little."

Rio grinned slightly, wondering to himself just what exactly people like that looked like.

"I'm going to head up to the booth", Lauren added as she readied herself to take her leave fo him, "I'll text you when were ready to go, mmkay?"

"Sure", Rio nodded.

With that, they parted ways, and while Lauren headed back over to the DJ booth, most likely in order to ask for that favor she'd mentioned, Rio made his way out into the kitchen in search of Billy. Though the house was no larger than for the DJ's voice to be heard in all of it, when he told all Brooklake students to head up to the booth if interested in meeting up and heading over to the school dance together. Rio gave it a few minutes, during which he finally did manage to find Billy and chat to him for a bit, before he started making his way back into the living room and the DJ booth, figuring that people would have pretty much gotten organized right about now. And sure enough. Just as he was nearing the booth, he got a text message from Lauren as promised, saying she was ready to go. It wasn't long after that they all were packed into one van and one battered old Toyota Corolla, and on their way to Brooklake High, with music blaring form both cars, as though on a mission to let the whole town know they were ready to party.

"God, I think I'm deaf", Rio muttered to himself as he climbed out of the Toyota about ten minutes later, having had the great misfortune of being squeezed up right next to one of the backseat speakers the entire ride there.

Though his moment of dismay didn't last any longer than those two seconds, and within twenty more, he had both located Lauren and was in the process of accompanying her into the school, following in the footsteps of those among them who had already taken the lead. As they walked, he pointed out the directions of the usual necessities - the bathrooms, the cafeteria and the library - until they entered through the open doors of the gym hall, and were met with what they'd already heard from a distance; a scenery much like the one back at Billy's house, only bigger. Kids in various states of elegance were milling about everywhere, the dance floor was fairly crowded, and laughter could be heard from various directions.

"Ah, high school", Rio said with what sounded like a contended sigh as he breathed in the atmosphere, though the twinkling glance he shot Lauren at his side was one of unmistakable jest.

It was kind of ironic, really. Most of these kids spent Monday to Friday wishing to just get out of this place, and yet here they were on a Saturday night. True, Rio himself was one of them, but that was mostly because he enjoyed watching people, and as photographer for the school paper was expected to have at least something to bring to the table come next editorial staff meeting.

"Come on", he added. "Let's find a vantage point."

Considering the size of the hall, and how the large number of people in it made it difficult to see a whole lot from floor level, he thus made a bee-line for the bleachers and climbed a few rows in order to put himself and Lauren on a level from which they'd have a perfect overview of the majority of the hall.

"Alright", he said as he sat down, and took out the camera he'd picked up from his locker on their way to the gym hall, just to be prepared. "Let's see..."

Scanning the crowd, it didn't take him long to spot a couple of known faces.

"Okay, see the guy over there, in the bright yellow suit? That's Loren... uh... Dasen, I think. He's all the kinds of gay I'm not; singing, dancing, musicals... extremely loud fashion sense. He seems to be a little on the dim side, and apparently made a real spectacle of himself in the hallway the other day, but he seems nice and friendly enough. And over there is Frankie Meir. She's on the student council, and she's your basic radical feminist. Loud and opinionated. I'd hate to get on her bad side. Seriously."

Pausing there, Rio then stretched his neck a little, in search of the next "character" he'd mentioned to Lauren earlier.

"Oh, and there's Barbie and Ken", he said as his gaze landed on Marie-Elisabeth and Josh. "A.k.a. Josabeth, or some such. You know, like Brangelina, and other such stupid nicknames? Anyway, it's the blonde in the strapless blue dress, and her date. Marie-Elisabeth Normandy, and Josh Brennan. She's the head cheerleader, he's the captain of the football team. Talk about a major high school cliché, right?"



(((ooc: Hope everyone's okay with their characters being mentioned. Some of them haven't been RPed in quite some time, but none of them have been RPed leaving, so...)))

So, they'd been talking about him, huh? And not in the good way either, Matt could tell. It wasn't as though the looks exchanged between Natalie and her suitors upon his arrival had been all too subtle. He saw the way she raised a meaning eyebrow at them, and the slight grins on their lips, as though sharing some kind of secret. Still, regardless of what had been said, the other guys quickly feel into line, right along with Callum's arm from Natalie's shoulders, knowing all too well that of the two, Matt was still the one they were better off siding with. They might talk behind his back - the jocks in particular, since anyone who happened to be successful without being on the football team, in their eyes, was a threat, not a pal - but they knew better than to openly act against him. Because, see, that was the thing; no matter what Natalie did to humiliate him (minus of course blowing his secret) she'd need far more than a few hours at a dance to do it. Popularity was a fragile thing, yes, but the thing about it was that it was easier to destroy from above, than from below. Natalie, while she had started ascending the moment Matt had asked her to the dance, was still far, far below him on the social ladder, so whatever she did, it wouldn't carry nearly the same weight as if Matt had done it to her. And the irony of it all was that she had chosen for it to be that way in the first place. She had shunned the preps and the power that came with hanging with them, yet now all of a sudden, she wanted that power. She even acted as though she thought she already had it.

Well then, Matt figured. let her. Let her chip away at his popularity with her little hammer and chisel, while Matt acted the part she had ordered him to play, denying her every excuse to bring out the sledgehammer instead. She was only digging her own grave anyway: She was being too obvious. Despite her subtle gestures, such as of favouring Callum's company over Matt's by shifting her stance towards the former, she was being far too obvious in that by doing so, she made it no secret that something wasn't right. Try as Matt may to seem all smitten with her, that was the first thing that would tip people off that something was up, without her being able to blame him for it. Matt didn't get smitten, not once in his life had he acted like a lovesick puppy. So, when they didn't buy it, it wouldn't be his fault, since it was Natalie that had ordered him to play a role that they just wouldn't have bought even if it had been true. The second thing to tip them off, was that Matt hadn't moved on to greener pastures by now, despite Natalie's behaviour. In what universe would Matt Sidle have ever simply accepted playing the third wheel like this? He would have dropped her like the bag of garbage that she was, and moved on within two seconds flat. Last but not least, there was Natalie's own behaviour, and the way it reflected on her; why on earth would she, a girl with a reputation for knowing what she wanted, have accepted Matt asking her out, when she obviously didn't enjoy his company? She'd be more likely to go alone. Unless there was foul play involved.

Indeed, if(/when) people got suspicious, it would be because of her behaviour, and because of the behaviour she had forced Matt to display. There was no way that she could blame him for having her plan fail: It wasn't his fault it was a bad one.

Why, she must have lost her touch over the past couple of months, trying to make everyone think she wasn't the grade A b*tch that she was. Although, Matt supposed that it did require a lot of effort to keep that one hidden, and so other areas were bound to wither due to negligence.

And speaking of b*tches...

"Okay guys", came the DJ's voice over the ending notes of 'High School Confidential' - which, had Matt seen it right, had been another jab at the preps from Natalie as it seemed to have been played at her request, judging by the signal she'd given the DJ, and earned her a bit of a glare from Matt - in the preparation of yet another song from someone's wishlist: "We have a request for one of the pretty ladies out there. This one is dedicated to the one and only Marie-Elisabeth Normandy."

'Oh Christ, please don't tell me Josh is that cheesy' was the thought darting through Matt's head at that, completely unaware that only a few moments later, when the explicit lyrics burst from the speakers, he would find himself in the exact opposite situation; realizing that it hadn't been Josh, but seriously wishing that it had been. Because what those lyrics had to say sure went a long way in putting Matt's current opinion of Marie-Elisabeth into words.

Someone actually did that! He couldn't believe it! And neither could the rest of the students in the gym hall, because for the few seconds that the DJ tried frantically to turn the music off before finally succeeding, all conversation seemed to cease, and every head in the place turned, including Matt's, to catch the conceited smile on Marie-Elisabeth's face melt right off and turn to a mask of shocked horror instead. Oh, it was priceless! So much so, that even Matt couldn't keep a straight face, but let slip a smirk. A restrained one, but a smirk nonetheless. One that he made no effort to hide, when Marie-Elisabeth's gaze darted over to him. Though he did give an innocent shrug, as if saying it wasn't him that was behind it. But whoever was, he gave them a mental pat on the back.

A few seconds later, the DJ finally managed to stop the music, and as a bunch of cheerleaders and other preps tripped all over themselves in their rush to flock around Marie-Elisabeth and comfort her bleeding ego, Matt turned back to Natalie and the others, and their various states of surprise, vengeful muttering and, in Natalie's case he supposed, amusement.

"So", came her voice from his right, in the sweetest of tones, "how about a dance? Been waiting...."

Doing his best to try and hide his own puzzlement at that statement, Matt turned his head to look at her, momentarily gauging her motives. What happened to the very first thing she'd said to him this evening, "You don't have to dance with me"? She'd been quite firm when dictating her rules for their "date". Though as suspicious and wary as her request made him, and no matter what she'd said earlier, she currently had him in a position where he couldn't exactly refuse. So, it was only a split second later, that he managed a casual and even somewhat eager "Sure thing", and started guiding her onto the dance floor for the slow song now playing, discarding the cup of punch that she'd rejected, by simply putting it down on the nearest table.
He was soon to learn that, much like he'd thought, she'd had an ulterior motive.

They had danced all but a minute or two - although it felt like an eternity to Matt, who was trying hard to resist the urge to step on her toes, and half expecting her to step on his, while at the same time trying to keep his bruised jaw angled away from her - when she suddenly stopped, and instead ushered him over towards the empty tables in the corner.

"So...", she said, and the way that she eyed his appearance let him know that despite his efforts, she'd noticed his reddened jaw after all, "either you just fail at dolling yourself up, or you've managed to p*ss someone else off. Given that it's you, I'm inclined to believe the latter."

There she paused ever so briefly as though reviewing the possibilities, before continuing;

"Given that Mark's been drooling over my shoes all night, and Madison can't throw a punch to save her sorry soul... what happened?"

Matt shot her a glare. After that introduction she'd just given, she actually expected him give an honest answer?
’Well, bite me'.
And really, those were the only two possibilities she could come up with, when apparently, he was just sooo good at p*ssing people off?
In light of all that, it was simply impossible for him to keep the sarcasm out of his tone;

"Oh, I just ran into some gorilla who was just so disappointed he didn't get to take you to the dance."

Because really, had there been anyone actually interested in asking her to the dance, it probably was a gorilla, seeing as how her status before she'd forced him to ask her, had been befitting of one. Though for a moment, he'd considered just telling her Parker had found out Matt had asked her, and tried to knock some sense into him in order to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life by going out with her, but Matt kind of figured now wasn't the time to push it.
A sentiment that Natalie herself did not share;

"Oh, does Brennan get a little rough at playtime?", she quipped at him, at which Matt's eyes darkened even more.

But only for a moment. Within a few seconds, he was trying to steel himself against her jabs, telling himself that as long as he let her get away with it to his face, she'd have no reason to try it with an audience. So, as much as her words stung, since she knew how to hit him where he hurt, he did his best to ignore it, and replaced the initial scowl with a fake smile and a sweet tone;

"He's got his hands full with his own grade A b*tch", he said, both as a way of deflecting her dig, and an attempt to shift her focus.

Normally, he would have been loyal and kept his mouth shut about his current opinion of Marie-Elisabeth, but it wasn't as though Marie-Elisabeth's attitude towards him lately had carried an ounce of anything that warranted such consideration, now was it? And besides, Natalie had already seen his reaction to the song dedication, so unless she had developed a sudden case of acute stupidity, she would have already realized things weren't well between him and Marie-Elisabeth.
Sadly, however, she didn't go for it. The diversion didn't work.

"No need to get jealous, I'm sure he can handle two", she snickered, and then gave him the assessing once-over when adding suggestively; "Or maybe you've been doing the handling... b*tch."

Try as he may, that one had a bite to it that Matt just couldn't make himself ignore, and his jaws tightened as he looked away, while his cheeks flushed slightly with humiliation. She just wouldn't stop twisting the knife, even for a second.

"What do you want?", he snapped at her, in a tone of voice as dark as his eyes.

"What do I want...?", Natalie seemed to ponder for a second, before actually launching herself into something other than another vengeful term for once; "Let's start with what I did want, which was for you to leave me alone. I get it, Matt. Guys want sex, it's easy. It's like a basic no-brainer, but you... so, were you going to publicly humiliate me after you'd slept with me, or was I just too boring for you to get that far?"

At that, Matt glanced up at her, with a small crease of confusion etched between his eyebrows, wondering just what she was on about now. That minor tirade and talk of sex had come as a bit of a surprise to him, since frankly, what he had mentioned to his friends back when he was setting her up to be taken down, about possibly waiting until he'd gotten into her pants, was the last thing currently on his mind. But then it hit him, and once it did, it didn't take him long to realize that someone - most likely Mark, Callum or Freddie - must've suddenly seen it as their duty to inform her of that particular comment. Though he failed to see what her wanting him to leave her alone had to do with it. If she hadn't wanted to go out with him back then, she could have just said no. Unless she meant the stabs he'd taken at her after all that, about Parker, in which case she was just being incoherent. Like one might get when p*ssed off and venting... which meant that despite her outward cool and retorts over the past couple of weeks, he'd gotten to her after all...

"What do you want?", Natalie continued, now with something relentless seeping into her voice, without giving him a chance to respond, but instead going straight back to attacking him. "For me to stop? For me to feel sorry for you, you pathetic weasel? Tell me what you've done to deserve it. From me or anyone in that hall."

And with no chance to reflect or take a stance before she came at him again, guns blazing, the darkness from before struck into Matt's eyes all over again in instinctive defence.

Did he want her to stop? H*ll yes. Did he want her to stop out of pity, because she felt sorry for him? H*ll no, he wanted her to choke on her own self-righteous, holier-than-thou attitude! He knew where she'd been, and what she'd done, and she'd had the gall to come here and pretend to be so much better than the rest of them, when she had far more blood on her hands than any of them. And now she thought she was somehow entitled to teach him a lesson, for pointing that out to her? And not just that, she was apparently making herself the representative of the whole school, and judging him for doing what she herself had done back in Chicago! That presumptuous, hypocritical hag!

"You made your own bed, little Miss too-good-for-the-rest-of-us", he fumed darkly with acid in his voice, too irked and cornered at this point to manage anything more salient.

Consequently, Natalie didn't quite get the message.

"Oh, I'm sorry", her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Did I hurt your pride? D'awww!"

A split second later, the mockery vanished from her features:

"Grow up, you spoilt brat", she snapped, "not everything is about you."

What do you know? For once, they agreed. This was actually about her. At least it had been. The irony was, it was she herself that had made it about him, when she decided she had the right to blackmail him and teach him some lesson, thinking he deserved it for (just like her, mind you) figuring he was better than everyone else.

The thing was, he didn't. It wasn't that he had decided he was better than everyone else. Everyone else had decided he was better than everyone else. He'd grown up handsome, wealthy, and had both intelligence and a charm that had melted hearts since he was a toddler. With that came a whole bunch of expectations from the people around him. Expectations that he'd felt since before the first grade, and that he'd tried his best to live up to. And in many ways, he had. Sure, he'd been born with a silver spoon, but he had managed his assets and made something of them, of himself. He took good care of himself, stayed in shape, he was socially suave, he had good grades, and he was the star runner on the track team. That was all real, that wasn't fake. No one could take that away from him. They were the basis of his popularity. Popularity was always built on something that made you stand out. The popular ones got that way, because they had something that the rest admired; a skill, a personality trait, a lifestyle. Matt had all of the above.

However, as successful as he was, deep down, Matt himself didn't genuinely think he was better than anyone else. On the contrary. Deep down, he was acutely aware not of his strengths, but of his flaws, and the guilt he carried around for not being what everyone thought him to be, and expected him to be, was killing him.

Natalie didn't see that. She didn't stop for one second, to contemplate the fact that had Matt truly believed himself to be better than everyone else, she wouldn't have been able to blackmail him in the first place, because had Matt considered himself better than everyone else, he would think he could do no wrong. Currently, Matt's life was all about covering up all the things he did wrong.
So far, he'd done a fairly decent job, because the only one who knew the truth was Josh. Natalie and Esteban had discovered his secret, and both of them were taking advantage of it, but neither of them possessed the common sense to solve the equation. They were still just as blind as everyone else.

Still, as the saying goes, even a blind hen can sometimes find her corn, and right now, that's exactly what Natalie was about to do;

"Do you know what?", she kept on relentlessly, apparently interested only in hearing her own voice. "Screw it. You're a spineless coward. You're a fake, a liar, nothing more than some glorified thug, but worst of all, you're a disappointment. And you know it."

With that one, she struck right into Matt's number one Achilles' heel. It didn't matter how blind she was to everything else, or that she meant it in a way completely different from how Matt himself saw it. Hard pressed - by her, by Esteban, by Marie-Elisabeth, by the whole Mark/Dylan situation, and even or perhaps foremost by Josh - and already teetering on the edge of what he could take, that last comment did hit home in a way that made him visibly flinch, and for a moment, he could but stare at her.

But it was only for a moment. The knowledge of how close he was to coming apart already had hovered at the back of his mind for the past couple of days, and it hovered there still, fuelling his defence mechanisms. Within the bat of an eye, those mechanisms were hard at work, to steel him against her venom, and before long, the humiliation and the guilt had been channelled into rage instead, that sent the flames of fury blazing in his eyes.

A disappointment? Oh, she was one to talk! Matt may not have driven any of his girlfriends to suicide, nor driven under the influence in some stupid attempt to undo the damage he shouldn't have done in the first place by toying with people, nor had he gotten Daddy dearest to bail him out of trouble only to then flee the scene and put on this whole "too good for you" charade to those who didn't know her true colors, but he had kind of figured he didn't need to do any of that!
And a glorified thug, huh? Like he was the one who was blackmailing people, and forcing them to do things they didn't want to do, by threatening to completely ruin their lives! That was him, was it?! And as for a fake, and a spineless coward?
Oh, he'd show her! He'd show all of them!

Without a word, and indeed, without even really thinking, Matt turned on his heel, and headed straight for Josh. He wasn't hard to spot, standing next to Marie-Elisabeth who was still being swarmed by the cheerleaders since her moment of humiliation a few minutes ago. Though that didn't stop Matt. Reaching the small crowd, he didn't hesitate for a single moment, but instead just forced his way through them, completely uncaring of the few surprised and offended Hey!'s that sounded from the girls he pushed aside in order to reach Josh. He barely even registered the surprise on Marie-Elisabeth's face, or the puzzlement on Josh's, when the other boy's eyes met with his own, pitch black ones. Though before Josh had a chance to react, Matt was through, and still without a single word, he grabbed Josh firmly by the head with both hands, and pressed his own lips against his. And even though it lasted only two seconds, before Matt pulled away again, the effect was instant. Silence fell like a curtain among the cheerleaders, along with their jaws, and it was almost as though it all sent a shockwave through the rest of the students close enough to have seen what had happened, some of them having had their curiosity piqued by Matt's determined stride across the dance floor. Everyone seemed to have just stopped to stare. Conversations had yet again ceased, dancing had come to a sudden halt, and movements had frozen mid-motion. The only thing heard was the slow, soft ballad currently playing, and so when Matt then turned back to Natalie, his peeved voice carried easily over the music:

"There!", he said hotly. "It's out! Now everyone knows! I've kissed Josh! I've kissed him a number of times! You happy now, Natalie? You've got nothing left to blackmail me with! You're done! You and that Morales kid both!"

Looking around, his dark gaze searched for Esteban, but when he didn't spot him, he simply went on to address him anyway;

"Morales, wherever you are, you coward, I hope for your sake you got off while you had the chance, because you're done. You're real tough, aren't you, beating on someone you know can't afford to hit you back. Real tough, real macho. You spineless piece of sh*t."

He practically spat out the last couple of words, leaving no room for misinterpretation regarding his feelings, and then turned back to Natalie:

"You're both done, and you can both just go to H*ll!"

With that, he then pushed his way through the crowd of flabbergasted students once again, and left the gym hall, fed up to the point of throwing up with all things Brooklake.


(((ooc: So sorry for the length of this post. There was just so much to cover, and I didn't want to do it half*ssed. :/ Wasn't all that inspired though, so sorry if it turned out crappy anyway.)))