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Fruitsnacks

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About Fruitsnacks

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    Feels Wrecker
  • Birthday November 11

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    kagesenjo

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  1. For anyone interested in what Shadow Hunters is/which specific permutation of Shadow Hunters I'm referring to, you can watch it here: http://freeform.go.com/shows/shadowhunters/episodes
  2. @Kio made me start watching Shadow Hunters and now I have an insatiable itch 8I (Which... usually means a character has entered my crosshairs... <v<;;; ) I've got a few ideas bouncing around, but wanted to see what folks think? I tend to not RP with much of a pre-ordained plot, more just "eh here's a premise let's throw them in the sandbox and see who dieswhat happens! 8D" could be large group, small group, 1-on-1, whatever :P I tend to have a fairly slow pace - depending on how many folks are involved, could be anywhere from each of us posting 1x/week to 2-3x/month I don't super duper care about post lengths, but be aware that I tend to write long posts (as do @Kio and @Dragonslover, if they join~) would be rad to have a mix of canons and OCs~ to accommodate the characters I have in mind (depending on what scenario we run with, and whether or not @Kio and @Dragonslover join in and with which characters), side-note that while it's primarily in the Shadow Hunters' world, there may need to be some... ah... flexibility... with the world premise. clarified and agreed-upon upfront, of course! EDIT: forgot to add - I don't really envision this being something where a group starts and that's it, I'd be down for folks/charas to drop in/out as they please. super free-form :) Anyone down for something along those lines?
  3. +Minnow+ Minnow didn't really mind much whether or not Grani was overstating things - she was just happy he seemed to be more comfortable with the conversation now! It seemed like it had been forever since she last conversed with someone-- ...but, wait, she never had, right? A slightly larger, stray spark made her wince, betraying the answer to Grani's question. With a meek, embarrassed smile, she replied, "Ah... I-It's alright... I'm sure Bingo doesn't mean to! He's just malfunctioning, is all." Yet, even as she said that, her confidence in her words already began to fade. Her brow furrowed, and she lowered her head to examine Bingo's innards more acutely. "...Everything... looks fine, though..." Her eyes flickered across her little friend, then she sat up again, another smile precariously drawn across her lips. "He's quite dirty - it's been a while since I last cleaned him up." Another small spark, accompanied by another wince. "Maybe it's just a bit of build-up that's disrupting his circuits?" Placing down her tools to look up at Grani, she continued, "His power core needs to be recharged, but I don't think that'd make him spark like this. Let's try cleaning him up first! Do you have spare cloth anywhere I can use? That and a bit of oil should do the trick!" But, something deep down told her that wouldn't work. She felt like she knew the answer, but for some reason just couldn't grasp it, couldn't articulate it. As soon as she got close to pulling it out of the shadows, she'd be met with another spark, another flash across her mind, another pinch of pain. What's wrong, Bingo? Why are you doing this... ?
  4. +Minnow+ Although Grani seemed to get angrier at her words, he also seemed... less upset? He was a curious puzzle to her, fascination lighting her eyes as she tilted her head. "Yeah?" she asked, legitimately awed by his claims. "That's really cool! I bet its a real help around here, huh?" As the conversation appeared to be picking up again, Minnow reached down to retrieve her satchel and set it atop the table. Pulling out a few slim tools and tiny parts, she placed Bingo before her and set to work trying to repair her friend. "Brandon looks strong, but he doesn't look like he'd have been able to maintain this place on his own. Did you help him out with it?" At her fingertips, Bingo was gently sparking, giving her a dull but constant pain in her temples. She didn't appear to mind it as she worked and talked, but she couldn't shake an odd feeling needling at the back of her mind. Something about this felt incredibly familiar, though she couldn't quite pinpoint just what it was. After all, she'd been alone all her life, right? She'd never had a friend before, aside from Bingo, right? She'd... never worked on an artifice... beside someone else... ...right... ?
  5. To say the very least, his sister's words made Brandon thoroughly embarrassed, both of his hands raising defensively in front of a panicking smile. "Crystal..." he groaned, nervously glancing towards the death-glare hidden behind a golden masque but that he knew to be bearing upon him and his sister. While he hadn't the slightest inkling of an idea what was going through the Death Queen's ancient mind, he'd gathered well enough that it wasn't anything good, and his sense of self-preservation remained considerably higher than his sister's. Though, Vali certainly didn't seem concerned about it, a point proven by the words to follow. In an instant, the suave turned his cheeks nearly the same red as the wine. His head whipped around to regard his companion with pure horror, his voice cracking in his mortified cry. "V-Val--!!!" An invading tongue cut him short, and despite all that had just transpired the young cambion couldn't help but melt on the spot. A part of him hated how easy it was for Vali to make him buckle and bend, convinced it made him little more than a plaything in the demigod's eyes, a toy he could call upon when he pleased but would one day ultimately lose all interest in. The rest of him loved it - let him be leashed, let him be used, so long as Vali sated his undying hunger then what did he care the pretenses or methods? Even in front of their siblings, he couldn't help but lean in, his addicted tongue seeking more, more - it was all he could manage just to keep his hands upon Vali's shoulders rather than his waist, chest, neck, ears... When Vali pulled away, it was at once a great pain and relief, leaving him breathless while his mild haze subsided. Leaning back into Slejpner's embrace, Kryt watched the kiss, knowing all too well the darkness that corrupted the otherwise beautiful exchange. Her hands laid gently upon his arms, smiling and giving him an apologetic nod and pat, but her mind was elsewhere, drifting back five, ten, fifteen years. How many times had she fallen, despite her every effort not to? How quickly had Love and Lust grown so intertwined, she couldn't separate them, and ultimately rejected all notion of one for the simplicity of presuming it was all the other? Brandon, at least, still didn't fully grasp "love," and so his "transition" had been comparatively smooth, but even still she could see the guilt in his happiness, the pain in his pleasure. In the end, Slejpner had saved her from such turmoil, despite the many, many... many trials she'd put him through, and despite it all she found she couldn't honestly wish for any of it undone. She didn't know if Vali would be the one to likewise save Brandon. She rather doubted her brother even could be saved, a point that wrought her with guilt over her role in it. But, at the very least, Vali kept him far from hunger, from danger, from the emotional turmoil she'd known for all those years. When they released and she caught Vali's eye, she threw him a crass smirk... but at the last moment it softened into a teary smile. Thank you. Twisting in her lover's arms, she found Slejpner's worried eyes and reassured him with a grin. "Yeah, yeah," she chuckled, fingertips sneaking up between them to coil strands of messy hair. "Hey, at least I'm still dressed, right?" The evening's request for restraint went slightly sidelined, just long enough for her to seize his lips in a kiss of her own - plenty of others were doing it, so why the hell not? She kept it short, though, knowing she had to last at least another goddamn hour before tearing through his suit and armor like giftwrap. Lady Eir was watching the kids overnight, right? Oh, how the Asgardian air would sing tonight!!! Presuming Hel's mood didn't kill everyone's spirits, anyway. Though her gaze was hidden, Slejpner could likely tell all he needed about her mindset from temperature and manner alone - after all, Slejpner was one of two people who had spent any meaningful length of time in her life, and was arguably more privy to the Death Pantheon's innerworkings than the other. Watching the quivering thing on Vali's arm confirmed the source of the demonic scent in the air, the bony points of one hand threatening to pierce clear through her glass. Eventually, she regarded Narfi with a thin, pursed smile, having had her fill of watching the cambions sinking their claws into otherwise perfectly capable warriors of Asgard. "Well," she replied, voice full of blatantly faux cheer, "at least you and Fenrir's lovers won't betray us." That was as much blessing as anyone was going to get out of her. Hardly interested in suffering any of it any longer, she turned to extend her fleshed hand towards the blind mouse, caring little for whether the others took issue with her abrupt manner. "Come. You miss my brother. I will take you to him." Although the woman seemed feeble and meek, she was still Aesir, which put her miles ahead of the others in Hel's book. So long as she never stepped foot on the battlefield, she wouldn't find herself on the receiving end of Hel's concern. Meanwhile, Jormungandr remained sat upon the floor, awkwardly slapping at Fenrir's hand as the damn wolf teased his hair. As his brother described the group, he frowned, having a bit of difficulty following along. "...I think it'ss inane," he muttered, still finding the words he had an easier time pronouncing. "What are they?" he asked with a snicker, inclining his head towards the twins. "Lionsss? Ratsss? They look ssmall..." His eyes continued to gleam in the hall's grandiose lighting, finding the topic amusing. Honestly, he found all of it amusing, on some level... Though he wasn't quite so well versed on the Ragnarok prophecies, the fact he and Fenrir had been imprisoned for all these centuries was testament enough to their might. That told Jormungandr all he really wanted to know about the upcoming war - that it would surely be very, very fun for him and his brother. "Bet ol' Odin'sss real fond of 'em, mm?"
  6. ǂBrandon Armickǂ Alarm gripped him when he realized what they were talking about. The... Th-The Bifrost?! Dropping his knife, he turned to start running towards them, anxious to put a stop to whatever they were discussing. But soon, Grani's words reached his ears, and his heart sank. Hiding just around the corner, he listened to his nephew's pained exclamations, every word pushing the invisible knife deeper and deeper. Not... intelligent... ? Quietly, he considered everything Grani said, unable to outright deny any of it. How could he? It was all true... Though Brandon tried his best to provide Grani with as safe and healthy an environment as possible, it hardly compared to the grandiose luxuries and expansive resources he would have known back on Asgard. His one advantage in life had always been his mind, but lot of good that did when you lived out in the middle of no where. Face furrowed, he wrestled with his thoughts, suddenly doubting every single decision he'd made since they first arrived here seven years ago. He'd been trying to protect Grani, to shield him from the cruelty he knew humans to show towards "others." But in doing that, had he done the boy more harm than good? Should he have brought him up in the city, or a nearby village, despite the discrimination he'd have inevitably faced? I can't... I can't even raise my own nephew... Vali was so good with Liranya. I bet he would have made the right decision... He would have known what to do. A sigh escaped him as he turned and silently walked back towards where he'd been prepping their dinner. Grani was right to want to go back to Asgard - he'd be way better off there, especially with Sigyn looking after him. Sigyn, he knew, was the best when it came to raising kids! After all, in his personal opinion, she'd raised the most perfect person he'd ever known! Objectively speaking, of course. But, if he goes back, what will I do? I wouldn't get along very well back on Asgard, not with Vali gone. I suppose I'd manage well enough here. It'd be lonely, but... ...I'd manage... ══════════════════════════════════════════════════ +Minnow+ Grani's sudden show of such emotion caught her completely off guard, her eyes blinking in confusion. He was... upset... ? Guilt began to settle in, curling her brow with sympathy. What had she said to upset him? It sounded like... he was upset that he didn't know much? For a moment, Minnow remained silent, not quite sure what to do or say, or how to react. She wanted to make him feel better, but how was she going to do that? ...Well, laughter always cheered people up, right? And though she didn't really know much about her past, she knew one thing for certain: she was great at laughter! And so, she threw on a big, bright smile, then slapped her hand upon his shoulder. (She was careful to use her fleshy hand - didn't want to hurt him, after all!) "Don't be silly!" she chirped with glee. "We're having conversation right now, aren't we? You're doing just fine!" Convinced he'd need a bit more encouragement on the matter, she reached out with her metal hand to spin a chair around, then released his shoulder so she could plop down in it, arms folded atop its back. "I didn't always know stuff about cores, you know! And I still know nothing about glyphs, or..." She paused for a moment, surveying the room for ideas. The sounds of chopping vegetables tickled her ears - beaming again, she pointed towards the kitchen. "...or gardening! I know squat about that!" Folding her arm back with her other atop the chair, her demeanor drew back in, calming down towards something less overwhelming. "And you can run real fast... And I bet you know how use that axe good! And don't those ears come in handy for tracking animals? See, you've got plenty of stuff you're good at! It may not be the same stuff that I'm good at, and I'm sure neither of us are good at the same stuff Brandon's good at - but he's probably not good at our stuff, either! And that's okay... That's what makes the world varied and interesting, y'know?" She wasn't sure if any of this was helping, but she sure hoped it did - Grani was much cuter when he smiled!
  7. Jormungandr's eyes flickered anxiously between the Naddems, growing more irritated with every passing second of Gabriel's cool, detached stare. How dare that asshole remain so fucking bored?! Honestly, he didn't get either of them, but they apparently had certain connections relevant to his interests. It helped they were both easy on the eyes, and great for a quick fuck - especially since that seemed to be their sole form of exchange. Want someone to walk you home? Fuck. Want to go see that new movie, but don't want to go alone? Fuck. Maybe you're just interested in the latest gossip and rumors? Especially if you had a specific person in mind... fuck. Drugs? Alcohol? Money? Fuck. Jormungandr knew exactly what he was in for when he dealt with the pair, and it was always a price he found himself willing to pay - though he wouldn't be caught dead admitting to willingly letting Gabriel plow his ass. Maybe that's why he got along so well with them? They were consistent, predictable... If you could get past the nature of their focus, it got surprisingly simple to get anything you wanted out of them. Compared to the situation back home? He'd trade it all for the Naddems any day. Personal interests aside, their antics furthermore proved thoroughly entertaining, if not downright hilarious. The grin twisting his face swelled in anticipation as much for Lilith's incoming "gift" as for the prank he could practically smell on the horizon. Sure enough, barely a moment after Gabriel reached his seat, that stupid little girl he sat behind was outright shrieking, bringing Jormungandr to laugh right alongside the rest of the class. Hel, on the other hand, was hardly amused by it all. She cared little for the girl in question, but every commotion delayed class further and further, and she quickly grew impatient having to wait for everyone else to catch up with her. She'd even come to foster resentment towards their teacher over it all - Hurry up and put them in their place. Must things always get this out of hand? You should let that "other" guy handle things sooner. On a personal level, she didn't care one way or the other who Jormungandr spent his time with... But, if she were honest, she would have preferred if he remained mindful of himself. Of his siblings. Of their "home." Jormungandr knew damn near everything he did angered their father, bringing about loud and violent nights that put the house to bed with a breeding ground for fresh nightmares. Sure, it never really affected her much, but she was certain it one day would. As the youngest of the three, she remained painfully aware of the fast-approaching day both her older brothers would leave home, and she'd be left to deal with their father alone. When that day arrived, she feared no amount of good grades, exceptional behavior, and self-imposed growth stunting would keep him at bay. Bah. Yeh'll mature soon enough! Can't wait 'til yeh fin'ly have a nice, full rack an' wet cunt o' yer own. Then maybe I can save summo th' whore money and buy meself a proper house! Lips pursed, she looked back to the pages between her fingertips, shutting out the classroom, Mr. Slejpner, and her wandering thoughts. All she had to do was study. Get ahead. Graduate with her brothers - or, better yet, before them. The world isn't in the business of saving people. You have to save yourself. Jormungandr sure as Hell wouldn't. Glancing up at Lilith as she passed, he held out his hand to receive the pill, his tongue flicking across his lips amid his laughter. As their teacher hurried to assist Silfrin, he took the opportunity to pop the bag open and retrieve the tiny, white pill between two fingertips. Eyes trailing back towards Mr. Slejpner's frantic attempts to calm his student, he caught that pompous ass Narfi surveying the class, looking like he was gonna punch someone right then and there. He sneered, staring him down as he crumpled the plastic baggy in his hand and popped the little pill between his lips. What're you gonna do, asshole? Scoffing, he returned his glare to their teacher. By the time the prick was talking again, the pill was already slipping down his throat. Hell yeah I'm done with this shit. Fuckin' ass...
  8. Kryt's face broke into an all-out grin at Mr. Slejpner's mutter, grades be damned. She knew full well he intended on disciplining her... but also that he'd have a rough time remaining true to his principles. She signaled her agreement to his demand with a sly wink, then turned on her toe to slip back into her desk, her skirt lifting barely not enough with the motion. Settling back into her desk, she tossed her paper negligently into her backpack, then folded one leg neatly over the other - his "reward" for "inviting" her to a bit of "alone time." The rest of attendance carried on more or less the way it usually did, with the usual results and antics across the class's wide range of personalities. Head propped up in the palm of her hand, she watched them pass by one-by-one, her bored stare broken only by her drummer's greeting. She considered his kid sister weird as fuck, but he and his brother were quite easy on the eyes, and pleasant enough company to hang around... especially when it came to his brother's not-so-subtle pining. She'd off-handedly suggested they write a song about it, and honestly she was only half joking about it - the band did need a few more songs in their repertoire, and what better than a one-sided rock ballad about a secret crush? Speaking of which... Idly, Kryt glanced towards the classroom's door. She'd caught on that it wasn't something, but rather someone that had gotten her brother thoroughly flustered. As much as she wanted to help him, though, she wasn't exactly the best source of love advice, having never gotten emotionally involved with anyone and fully intending on keeping it that way. With a resigned sigh, she glanced down to her textbook, prodding through its pages in a half-assed attempt to figure out what they were supposed to be covering today. He'll just have to figure out the hard way what a waste of time love is. She needed only glance over her shoulder to find her proof of its trials and tribulations, though she didn't recognize the feelings for what they were. Once again, the class had erupted into laughter, though this time it was around particularly irritating shrieking. Even before she looked, she knew exactly who was making the commotion, though she'd completely missed it was her own guitarist who'd caused it in the first place. She eyed the perfect, pretty little nobody with a snarl. Who the hell does she think she is, makin' that kind of racket? Sure, Kryt was a bit of a troublemaker, and her bandmates were even worse than her, but at least they kept their antics more or less to themselves! She rolled her eyes and turned back around with a huff. She's such a God damn attention whore. What a baby... Grow up. Life ain't gonna give you a free pass just cuz you cry a lot! Meanwhile, and unbeknownst to her, her brother was already beginning to feel the pain of loving someone. Literally. Brandon's only relief was the total vacancy of the bathroom when he burst through the door. What began as a sigh turned into a groan as he trudged over to the sinks, reluctantly surveying the bloody mess he'd made of his face. Carefully removing his hand, he soon discovered the cover had done more harm than good, the smear of his blood making his injury look far worse than it actually was. I'm such a screw-up... Abandoning his assignment upon a neighboring sink, he reached over to claim a paper towel. He wiped off most of his crimson accumulation before carefully twisting the faucet to start a low, steady stream of cold water. "Cold water helps it clot," he murmured lowly, repeating his mother's advice. He wet a fresh towel so he could clean his face, then held it against his nose for a moment while he checked the damage he'd done to his shirt. "Warm water will make it set." Keeping one hand holding the towel to his nose, he reached out with his free hand to grab and wet a second, that he might begin the awkward contortionist act of trying to dab the blood off his shirt when his other hand and arm were in the way of his view. "You won't impress anyone like this," he coached himself out of frustration. He'd hoped it might help him feel better, might encourage him to do better... It only partly worked. How am I supposed to impress someone that perfect? He grew quiet, a wary thought creeping into his brain. "Maybe... Gabriel... ?" Everyone likes Gabriel, right? He's bound to have good advice! But, he's friends with Sis... He'll probably tell, unless I... "pay" him...
  9. ⥊Hel⥋ Too preoccupied with her thoughts, Hel offered no protest to Slejpner's frantic shuffling, allowing herself to be easily removed from Madame Voutois' presence. Her submission came as a surprise to the shopkeep, given the remarks that had been exchanged since the pair entered her store, but it was a notion she didn't mind for very long - after all, that strange man had just paid quite a hefty price, so what did she care of the pair's bizarre antics? By the time they got outside, Hel had recovered enough from her thoughts to begin reclaiming autonomy, a hand laying gently upon Slejpner's chest before pushing him from her. She took a few steps further towards the cobblestone road's edge and lifted that same hand to the air, anxiously searching the bustling street for a carriage. At last, she spoke, her voice trying its best to remain strong despite the slight tremble to her lips. "I am sure I do not need to emphasize to you the severity of this situation, Brother." Not seeing a carriage yet in sight, she scowled in frustration, then turned to face him. "If He is here in this city - is posing as its King, no less, then that means our most formidable and tenacious enemy has already all but seized us. His presence alone threatens our survival in this place, and the stability of Asgard's place among the Gods." So consumed was she by the presence of The Devil, her guard against Slejpner was dropped, her language growing careless - she didn't even realize she'd revealed her personal interest in Asgard's power relative to the others, nor how such a thing might challenge the precarious veil she'd drawn over her brother's eyes.
  10. ǂBrandon Armickǂ When Brandon at last emerged from his room, he was wearing a fresh shirt - and no eye about his neck. In his few moments of solitude, his penchant for logical conclusions had sobered him to the reality of their new life: that, even if Vali was back, it was highly unlikely he'd ever come here, or that he and Grani would ever return there. As he steadily made his way back towards the kitchen, he scolded himself for ever having gotten swept up in such a fantasy. It had been seven years... Surely, he should be over this by now? If anyone was ever going to come for them, they'd certainly have heard or seen something by now. Anyway, the life they had here was good. Grani had grown into a fine young boy - not without his flaws, of course, but he was strong, and kind, and protective to a fault. Brandon had become more capable, a fact both his sister and Vali would surely have approved of. True, he was a bit out of his element, what with the lack of computers out here in the wilderness, but despite that he'd found ways to make himself useful. To keep himself relevant. That was something he never could have dreamed of achieving back on Asgard... Honestly, he should be thankful for this faraway isolation. Really. By the time his mind had settled upon this, he was back in the kitchen, pulling out the basket of produce they'd picked from the garden earlier. In the stillness between his quieted thoughts, he could hear Grani frantically conversing with Minnow, bringing a small smile to his face. I'm glad. It's about time Grani had a true friend! Though he didn't want to pry, he slowed his chopping so he could steal a small excerpt of their conversation. Whatever it was, it certainly sounded exciting! His head turned a bit to angle his ear towards the other room, and his hand drew to a momentary pause. ".... it can just go there?" Confusion furrowed Brandon's brow. Go where... ? Minnow's home, perhaps? ══════════════════════════════════════════════════ +Minnow+ Honestly, she was kind of surprised to hear Grani going off on a tangent of his own - he didn't really seem like the type to do such a thing. It made her wonder if she'd somehow upset him, but it was a passing fret, replaced with another scowl. "He, not it!" she scolded, waggling her metal finger. Her frustration appeared to be just as temporary as her worry, however, for soon her arms were folded across her chest, a wide grin planted firmly upon her face. "And of course he can! Aquatic travel is his specialty, and all that separates us from Genesaris is a bunch of water!" In the back of her mind, she was still struggling with some of the words he'd said - bi-frost, realm, heimdall. Er, Heimdall, capital H! The way Grani had spoken about the word definitely made it sound like that was a person. Some kind of... communications mage? Her metal hand lifted to rub her chin, her quick and innovative mind already fast at work. She guess Grani probably meant "realm" in figurative terms - she had to admit, Genesaris was pretty far away! It could very well take a full year to get there on Quincy alone, which was probably why Grani felt this "Heimdall" person should be involved. "Well, it shouldn't be too hard to make a beacon for Heimdall to find, right?" Was that a girl's name, or a boy's name? Maybe one of those ambiguous ones? She couldn't recall hearing anything similar before. Though, she admittedly also didn't recall much about Genesaris to begin with. Whether or not Grani needed the explanation, she turned to start tracing upon the table beside them, explaining her thoughts aloud and literally drawing blueprints into her hand's memory core. "See, a beacon would enable us to transmit a message, in turn reducing the distance Heimdall would need to reach out in order to make contact. Think of it like if two people each shot an arrow at each other!" Lifting her hand off the table, she faced him fully again, each hand held apart in front of her with their index fingers lifted. "We fire our beacon..." Her fleshy hand moved first, arching through the air, then her metal hand followed suit, until her fingertips touched in front of her. "...and Heimdall searches for our signal. They meet halfway, thereby establishing a connection point! Then, once Heimdall knows that, they just need to aim the... uhh..." She slowed a bit, still struggling to figure out the last word. Her confusion having finally caught up with her, she lowered her hands, her face screwed up in a puzzling look. "...say, what is a 'bi-frost,' anyway? Some kind of two-way ice glyph?"
  11. No one knew much about the Naddem duo - themselves included. The mystery surrounding them had grown to a status quo they carefully maintained through a combination of half-truths, false confessions, and subtle misdirection. All anyone could say for certain was that they lived and worked at the local orphanage... ...and that they were beautiful. Sporting exotically bronzed skin beneath thick locks of midnight hair, no one could quite pinpoint where around the world their lineage hailed from - perhaps some combination of East Asian and Southern European? Their features spoke of all the world's finest qualities, as if each country had contributed their most beautiful citizen to a melting pot, from which emerged the perfect Adam and Eve. When they graced the school's halls, they did so with an exquisite poise and luxurious gait, knowing full well they'd captivated the world around them and absolutely reveling in it. But as much as the without was elegant, so was the within distorted. When they spoke they did so with a singular, focused purpose, taking full advantage of their audience's curiosity to draw them further and further into their enveloping snare. One simply didn't approach the Naddems without knowing full well they could find themselves strewn behind the schoolyard atop a sweaty mess of clothes and flesh. To give them the slightest regard was to tease such a fate - luckily for them, not everyone at the school minded it. They'd found companionship with two students in particular, rounding out an amateur rock band headed by a loud and self-important storm of a girl who could almost keep pace with their rampant libidos. They certainly appreciated the effort, deeming their post-practice tumbles adequate recompense for their unique talents. (In addition to their musical gifts, they were apparently quite good for business.) Their relationship with the band's fourth was hardly any different, but where they provided her with their attendance they rewarded him with a steady supply of intoxicants. So it came to be that Gabriel Naddem knew precisely what Jormungandr's look meant, returning it with a disinterested stare. The male half of the seductive pair existed somewhere between the Jotunn twins, not nearly so built as Narfi but nor quite so lean as Vali. In this respect, Gabriel appealed to a wide spectrum of tastes, most of the students deeming him plenty "good enough" should their ideal twin reject their advances. With a few key, tasteful piercings and an edgy cut ending in dyed, bright red tips, Gabriel claimed a fanbase all his own, serving anyone--student or teacher alike--seeking something a bit more rebellious. After a brief moment of holding Jormungandr's stare, his piercing eyes shifted to find Lilith Naddem, and his slender face allowed a subtle nod. Among the class's small-framed girls, Lilith offered a hearty meal somehow tight and voluptuous at once. Her hips were wide, and her breasts heavy, but nothing appeared to sag, and the thickness of her limbs appeared born of taut muscle. It was incorrect to say she was a "large" girl - rather, she was simply built more so than the average girl, and just smoothed enough to not find herself in a bodybuilder magazine. This alluring package came with a seemingly infinite knowledge of all the correct ways to twist and bend herself, her default lean catching the morning sun along all the right curves and giving the students behind her a glimpse of the day's color of lace waiting beneath her pleated skirt and ruffled blouse. She shared Gabriel's wild aesthetic, the pair of them feeding the notion that they were twins - though no one could say for sure if they were even related. Her hair was cut and styled in similar fashion to his, save for slightly longer locks lined by tight braids and bright blue dye in place of his red. She'd taken a bit more liberty with her piercings, the lion's share of her beauty regimen resting upon her coordination of accessories rather than skillful makeup. Catching Gabriel's look, she responding in kind with a knowing smirk, then looked to the girl sitting in front of him. Oh, she had the goods, all right... but, they'd need a suitable distraction if Jormungandr was to safely get his fix. Gabriel sighed, but he'd expected as much - he knew the drill by now. By then, his name was being called - as he stood, a slender hand slipped into his desk, two long fingers plucking something into his palm. With the tiny object hidden in his hand, he strutted to the front of the classroom with a winning smile - who could possibly hate or distrust so charming and beautiful a creature as he? He paid their teacher every ounce of due respect and then some, offering a polite bow of his head as thanks for the grade scrawled upon his paper. Another perfect score. He turned and drifted back down the aisle towards his seat, catching Lilith's eye as he walked. Soon thereafter, she was standing and making her way to the front, her stride just as confident but twice as hypnotizing thanks to the rock of her inviting hips. With a smile that brightened not just her face but indeed the very air around her, she offered up a bow of her own, one hand lifting to lay daintily upon her blouse's topmost buttons while the other plucked her assignment. Impeccably perfect marks. By the time she turned around, Gabriel had reached his seat, one hand stretching out to pull out his chair. As he did, his fingers strayed near the sweet, innocent-looking girl that sat in front of him - Silfrin, a particular favorite target of his. A flawless and practiced motion used this opportunity to loose the object he'd hidden away earlier: a tiny, plastic spider, innocuous enough upon sight but real enough when tumbling down the back of an unsuspecting girl's shirt. As Lilith turned back towards the class, assignment in hand and back to the teacher, the hand she'd placed upon her shirt slipped its fingers between her buttons. A single, tiny baggy was easy enough for her to free from the bind of her bra - if Gabriel's distraction worked, she would then have all the time she needed to deposit it and the pill it held upon Jormungandr's desk before their teacher's attentions returned to the class. If not, Jormungandr would just have to wait until between periods. Either way, Lilith could count on a solid boning come lunch hour.
  12. As the youngest student in the class, Hel rarely took interest in her peers' antics. She was here simply because the school had run out of elective courses in her own grade level - everything else failed to hold her attention much longer than a week or so. On the grounds that she make up all of the course's missed assignments on her own time (a feat she'd managed in a single weekend), Principal Allfather permitted her to take the academy's World Mythologies course, one of the few subject matters she couldn't simply learn the basics of and deduce the rest. (Of course, there was also the added benefit of helping her older brother keep her oldest brother in line... Or, out of suspension, anyway...) Most days, she arrived after the twins, but before her brothers: she didn't have any friends to waste her time, but nor was she particularly eager to get there in a hurry. Fenrir got them out the door on time and, while he and Jormungandr took off to do gods knew what once they reached the campus, she headed straight to class, whereupon she could continue ignoring the other "prodigy" and read her textbook. In all honesty, she could hardly understand how that odd boy had even come to be known as such a thing. A constant ball of nerves, he was distracting at best and a nuisance at worst. Whatever... so long as it didn't interfere with her grades. By contrast, the eldest of the Grboda children took great amusement in the hopeless mess of a kid, if only because it made this boring-ass class mildly entertaining. He was always the very last to stroll in, towering over the only three people in the entire school who could stand his presence, black-lined eyes sneering through the locks of his dyed mohawk. He took a kind of attendance of his own, eying each and every classmate to see what variety of entertainment he could look forward to for the next forty minutes of hell. To that end, he was always pleased to see Kryt's kid brother in diligent attendance. If only because he didn't want issues with Krytical KnockOut's front woman, he left well enough alone when it came to outright bullying the younger Armick, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself whenever the brat made a fool of his own damn self! Dropping into whatever random seat he first spotted, his long arms reached back to retrieve the drumsticks stuck in the back pocket of his black skinny jeans. It appeared today was one of those rare occasions when the teacher was late, so he intended on taking full advantage of the silent few moments of peace they'd have before lectures, class work, and discipline ensued... ...by thoroughly obliterating that peace to the tune of rhythmic clacking against his desk. His classmates' protests would go ignored, his expert fingers manipulating the long and slender sticks about his thumbs right up until the teacher at last arrived - even then, he didn't stop until he'd finished out the rhythmic phrase he'd begun before finally begrudgingly sticking his drumsticks back in his pocket. Leaning forward in his desk, he propped his head up in an upturned palm, his other hand unable to stop itself from tapping atop his desk in a fashion similar to his previous drumming. The "liberated" bike chains he'd wrapped around his forearms into makeshift bracelets jingled with his every movement, adding to the classroom's ambient noise as a reminder that, yes, Jormungandr was still in this class, after three whole years of repeats. This was his last chance to graduate. His siblings reminded him of it damn near every day - if only to protect themselves from any stray aggressions from their drunken father. As their graded papers began coming out, Jormungandr got his first hearty laugh of the day, and damn, was it a good one! Elsewhere in the room, Hel rolled her eyes, closing her book to patiently wait the call of her name. What an idiot! she thought, glaring at Brandon. Doesn't he have any self respect? Jormungandr's laughter cut off with the rest when Kryt stood up, only to be replaced with a snort as he exchanged knowing looks with his other two mates. The three of them knew exactly what was drawn on that page - Lilith had even modeled behind the cafeteria for reference! He was still snickering when he and Hel were called, though he didn't have respect enough to look their teacher in the eye as he approached the front of the room. A dismissive and negligent hand snatched his paper with hardly a glance - he knew damn well there'd be a solid "B" on it, as he'd been very clear that Hel downplay the answers on his worksheet. Her forgery of his handwriting was spot-on, but people would get suspicious if he suddenly started doing too well on his assignments. Passing Kryt, he gave his friend a congratulatory fist-bump. Passing Narfi, he made no effort to move aside, adamant on making sure the school's star athlete knew he didn't have everyone intimidated. His antics earned him a glare from his sister, repaid with a sneer. Collapsing back into his seat, he folded his arms upon his desk and laid down on them, feet shaking beneath. Idly, his ringed fingers grabbed the gunmetal brass knuckles pendant hanging about his neck and stuck it between his teeth. Damn, he could go for a hit... He tilted his head to find Gabriel, careful to not catch his assembly of cartilage piercings on the torn sleeves of his tank, and cast the way-too-seductive lead guitarist a vile, irritated snarl. Where's the goods? Hel, meanwhile, was back to reading her textbook. In only a few more paragraphs, she'd be finished with the day's excerpt and ready to complete their homework the minute their teacher handed it out. That was the only way she'd have enough time later to... "help" Jormungandr with his homework...