Passerine Hills: Just a Bite

config.footer.center: "{embed passage: 'Saves'}" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" config.body.transition.name: "none" config.style.page.color: "#222222 on #d2dde6" config.style.dark.page.color: "#d2dde6 on #222222" config.style.page.link.color: "#222222" config.style.dark.page.link.color: "#d2dde6" config.style.backdrop: "#d2dde6" hollyunlock: false phonesearch: false emviunlock: false emvi11: false karaunlock: false izzycheck: false clarecheck: false -- <center> <h1>Passerine Hills</h1> <h3>Just a Bite</h3> <h5>[Lonely Week Edition]</h5> [[Content/Trigger Warnings]] </center> [align center] [[Intro]]

SAVES <div id="popup-save" style='display:none;visibility: hidden;'> <div id="popup-save-wrapper"> <div id="popup-titlebar"> <h2 id="popup-title">SAVES</h2> X </div> <div id="popup-body"> Here, you will be able to save and download your current progress, or load a pre-existing save file! {load save} - {save to file} </div> </div> </div>

<pre><code> window.chapbookSave = { get fileName() { const [m, date, hour] = new Date().toJSON().match(/(.+)T(.+)(?=\.)/); return engine.story.name() + '-save-' + date + '-' + hour; }, extension: '.tw-save', export(encode = true) { let json = JSON.stringify({ ifid: engine.story.ifid(), state: engine.state.saveToObject() }); if (encode) json = btoa(json.replace(/[^\x00-\x7F]/g, m => `UNI(${m.codePointAt(0)})`)); const url = URL.createObjectURL(new Blob([json], { type: 'text/plain' })), link = document.createElement('a'); link.href = url; link.download = this.fileName + this.extension; link.click(); requestAnimationFrame(() => URL.revokeObjectURL(url)); }, decode(json) { //is encoded if (json[0].trim() !== '{') json = atob(json).replace(/UNI$(\d+)$/g, (m, n) => String.fromCodePoint(n)); let data; try { data = JSON.parse(json); } catch (e) { throw new Error(`Couldn't parse file into a usable object. Save file broken.`); } if (data.ifid !== engine.story.ifid()) throw new Error(`Save file comes from another game!`); return data; }, import() { const dataHandler = data => { engine.state.restoreFromObject(this.decode(data).state); }; const input = document.createElement('input'); input.type = 'file'; input.accept = this.extension; input.onchange = () => { const reader = new FileReader(); reader.onload = () => dataHandler(reader.result); reader.readAsText(input.files[0]); }; input.click(); } }; customElements.define('import-link', class extends HTMLElement { constructor() { super(); this.addEventListener('click', () => chapbookSave.import()); this.addEventListener('keyup', e => { if (e.key === 'Enter') chapbookSave.import(); }); this.setAttribute('tabindex', '0'); this.setAttribute('role', 'link'); this.setAttribute('title', 'Load game from file'); this.classList.add('link'); } }); customElements.define('export-link', class extends HTMLElement { constructor() { super(); this.addEventListener('click', () => chapbookSave.export()); this.addEventListener('keyup', e => { if (e.key === 'Enter') chapbookSave.export(); }); this.setAttribute('tabindex', '0'); this.setAttribute('role', 'link'); this.setAttribute('title', 'Download save file'); this.classList.add('link'); } }); </code></pre>

config.footer.left: "{back link}" -- <details><summary>THE HOUSES</summary> Just so you know, I'm not explaining the houses because I think you're stupid, I'm explaining because I don't know if the same houses with the same rules exist in the future and I'd rather play it safe. There are three dorms, or houses, here: Lyrebird, White Crow, and Sparrow. All of this builds a hierarchy that we've got there. <details><summary>LYREBIRD</summary> Lyrebird is the most exclusive house. You get there because of one (or more) of four reasons. One: you're a legacy student. Two: you're insanely, incomprehensibly rich. Three: you're so iconic that placing you anywhere else would be wrong. Four: someone on the Board decided to put you there for some reason. People in Lyrebird don't have to submit collaterals and they can actually customize their rooms to a higher degree than everyone else. </details> <details><summary>WHITE CROW</summary> White Crow is the biggest house. It's nothing special because of that, since almost everyone will be there. Ironic with a name like that. </details> <details><summary>SPARROW</summary> Sparrow is the smallest house. It's for scholarship students, if they're there. The entire existence of Sparrow is kinda sad because it's clear that nobody cares about it as much as they should and it was definitely just an afterthought. Fucked up, isn't it? </details> </details> <details><summary>COLLATERAL</summary> Fancy word for blackmail material, really; anything you wouldn't want the press to get a hold of, like an embarrassing secret or something that'd get you cancelled. If you break the "absolutely no telling or showing what's going on in Passerine Hills" rule or make some other giant mistake like revealing someone else's collateral, your collateral gets released to the public. </details> <details><summary>TO TURN VOID</summary> When your collateral turns void, it means that it's no longer relevant. This might be because you revealed it yourself to the public, a nosy journalist got into your business, the public found out on their own, that kind of fun stuff. </details> <details><summary>TO GO VOID</summary> When you go void, you leave Passerine Hills for good before your time here is over. I don't know why it's so similar to turning void, okay? Just try to not get the two confused. </details> <details><summary>TO GO NULL</summary> When you go null, you reveal your collateral yourself. It doesn't have to be to the public, you can go null with people in private. That meaning evolved a little and it's also used in a joking way, like, admitting to an embarrassing secret. You can say something like "she went null about being a Swiftie" or whatever. </details> <details><summary>LIFE BEFORE</summary> That's the life that you had before money and/or fame. Some people have it, some people don't. I did. </details> <details><summary>WALK OF SHAME</summary> This is what happens after someone fucks up and their collateral gets released. It usually means that they have to leave Passerine Hills for good so they get this whole entourage of staff that helps them move out of their dorm. People like to gather and watch as the person that got kicked out and the whole staff parade walk to the Golden Gates — that's the walk of shame. </details> <details><summary>TO GO NULLCLEAR</summary> When you go nullclear, you're revealing someone else's collateral to the public with the full knowledge that it'll lead to your collateral being released as well. You must really hate someone and/or have nothing to lose if you do that. </details>

config.header.left: "Intro" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### Hi. It's Tiffany. Tiffany Ragnell. Yes, that influencer - I'll spare the introduction, you probably know who I am. If you're reading this, you probably were searching for something in the Passerine Hills Library and accidentally found this instead of whatever you wanted to find. Sorry about the disappointment. You can put it down and we'll forget about the whole thing, I won't be mad. But do you really want to miss out on a storytime? I know you've probably heard so much about the traditions of this place already that it makes you want to hurl but you need to hear me out on this one. From the very beginning of Passerine Hills to, like, the early 2000s, there was this phenomenon where one person just couldn't keep their mouth shut and absolutely had to let the world know their little embarrassing moments and spicy secrets. Since they couldn't really *tell* anyone (are you still doing collaterals in the future? consult the "lore" section if you have no idea what I mean), they wrote everything down, hid it, and waited for some other person in the future to find it, so that the story is read while staying behind the Gates. No rules get broken this way, win-win situation. I'm bringing it back. There's so much that happened to me here and everyone I can talk to about it right now already knows everything there is to know. It'll be a bit tame at the beginning but trust me, things get wild at some point. I'll spare you the boring bits about work and school itself because this isn't what I need to get off my chest, and it probably isn't something you'd want to read about anyway. For a variety of reasons, I'm not going to tell you everything here. Consider this to be... a sample. Just a bite out of a bigger meal so you can find out if you want more. If you don't, you'll just put it back where you found it, if you do... I'll tell you where to find more later. And just for legal reasons, all of the things I write about here are totally alleged, hearsay, rumor, fanfic, whatever you want to call it. Believe what you want to believe. To not waste your time any further: [[everything begins on that one night, October 18th...|Terrell Hall]]

config.header.left: "1 - Terrell Hall" config.header.right: "October 18" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### It's yet another Friday party in Passerine Hills. Every Friday since the beginning of school year in August, without fail, a party happens. The main organizer of the whole thing is Izzy Terrell, from the same Terrells that the stupid Terrell Hall I'm in right now was named after. Go figure why the party's a sacred, untouchable thing, even if it's not entirely compliant with rules and regulations. And every Friday, I appear in the Terrell Hall with my bestie, Holly. I come with her and I leave with her. That's how things always are. And yet, she's nowhere to be found, no texts answered, nothing, while I'm having the worst night of my life — well, at least the worst night of my life *so far*. My head feels like it's being continuously split in half with a dull, rusty axe. The pain waxes and wanes with the rhythm of the music that's being played at the party, and it's fucking hyperpop clearly made by someone who probably has far too much fun with drugs. I know, that doesn't narrow down anything in the hyperpop scene, but there's really nothing else that I can say about it. It's loud. It's fast. It's *killing* me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispered)` Holly, where the fuck are you... [align left] I haven't felt this nauseous since that one time someone spammed my email with gore. I'm not really meant to look at that inbox, that's a job for other people, but I did it anyway, out of curiosity, and you know, some people take twisted pleasure from knowing they fucked up someone's day. Especially if that person is a dumb bleached blonde whose job is taking selfies. ...anyway. My head is fucking killing me, and it's this type of pain that makes you want to die, or at least end the pain by any means necessary. Unfortunately, the two usually overlap, so my thoughts are pretty dark right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...fuck... [align left] There's that primal instinct in people that tells them to lie down when they feel bad, and so, I slide down the wall and curl up as much as I can, trying to shield my eyes and ears from the bright lights and insanely loud music. As you may guess, it doesn't really help a lot, but something is still far better than absolute nothing. I know that if I stay here, I'll most likely just throw up in the hallway, and if anyone sees it, I'm totally done socially, but I really can't find any strength in me to move. There's two things on my mind right now: *fuck, I'm going to die here* and *Holly, if I survive this, I'll kill you*. [align center] ~~???~~ Is everything okay...? [align left] I can't even tell whose voice it is. It's soft and warm, with a hint of a definitely non-American accent, but I don't really care about anything except the fact that the question is absolutely fucking *stupid*. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Do I *look* okay to you? ~~???~~ ...no. Can I help you? [align left] See, I don't really like accepting random help from people. Usually, there's always something hiding behind it, usually an implied debt of some sort. I've learned a long time ago that there's almost nothing that comes for free. And yet, I don't really feel like I have a choice other than to accept the offer, mostly because I don't think that being curled up in the corner while your head is exploding is a particularly cute or sexy look for me. So I open my eyes, just for a while, to see who I'll be owing my soul to when the whole thing is over. The corridor lights blind me and for a moment, my dinner threatens to leave me. I'm a strong girl, though, so I suppress that and try to focus my vision enough to see the person standing above me clearly, or at least as clearly as possible at the moment. Just don't look at the lights... I almost sigh with relief when I finally realize who's above me from the vague, blurry details I can see right now. Clare. It's fucking Clare Dumont, thank God, hallelujah. It's Clare, the girl who literally volunteers in the infirmary for... some reason. It's Clare, who never asks for anything in return for her help. Or at least I've heard so from Holly, and Holly is rarely wrong when it comes to people. Never in my entire life have I thought I'll be this happy to see her. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, my head's fucking killing me. [align left] Clare kneels right next to me. I can feel her gaze on me as she's trying to assess what's wrong. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Poor you. Did you drink too much, took any drugs? ~~TIFFANY~~ The fuck- *no*, it's just- my head. [align left] As eloquent as always. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Just so we're on the same page: you won't be in any trouble if you took something, okay? [align left] If anyone else was stalling like this, I would probably get really fucking angry. But there is something in her voice, some kind of softness and care that even I can't get mad, and I guess that she needs to know that, just in case. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I didn't take anything, just- *fuck*, can you take me to my room? ~~CLARE~~ Sure. Here, let me... [align left] She stands up, then helps me do the same. All of this movement is enough to make the pain way worse for a moment, as if someone decided they had enough of me and decided to drive some ice picks right into my head. Unfortunately, that reminds me of a particular image from that gore collection I mentioned earlier, and that memory, combined with pain and all the light, is enough to make me audibly gag. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(clearly concerned)` Do you want to- ~~TIFFANY~~ No, just- let's just go. ~~CLARE~~ Close your eyes if that helps you. Just put your arm around me and I'll, uh... put mine around your waist, if that's fine by you. It's for stability. [align left] Of course, I hate being touched by people I don't really know that well – who doesn't? But beggars can't really be choosers. I let Clare put her arm around my waist and I throw my arm around her shoulders for some more stability, then shut my eyes tight to not have to look at anything; I don't think I can handle both light and movement right now. I briefly wonder about Holly, but at this point, I'm too busy trying to not throw up. I'll see her tomorrow. [[I always do.|Guardian Angel1]]

config.header.left: "2 - Guardian Angel" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### The corridors of White Crow are predictably quiet and dark. Well, they *were* like this until the motion sensors detected us and the bright lights started shining all over the place. I grit my teeth while keeping my eyes shut as tightly as possible. How did I make it past the flight of stairs? How did we manage to cross the distance between Terrell Hall and White Crow? Did anyone see how pathetic I look right now? Have I even told Clare where to go? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ We're here. Uh... You have the keys, don't you? ~~TIFFANY~~ Mhm. [align left] I suppose I told her, then. I'm absolutely fucked because I don't remember when did that happen. Clare finally lets me go so I can comfortably search for my keys in my pockets. I can still feel the lingering warmth where her arm used to be and it's a really, really weird feeling. Like an afterimage of a touch that's slowly growing colder and colder. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you want me to do this for you? ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll be fine. [align left] It takes me a while to get the door to open, mostly because at this stage, I can barely see. The sound of the lock clicking just like it should was sweeter than anything else. I just stumble inside the room, take my coat off, head straight towards my bed, and throw myself onto it without any care for dignity or maintaining my image. I mean, why would I care at this point? Clare literally saw me curled up, all pathetic and on the verge of throwing up. One more display of helplessness won't make any difference. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you have anything to drink? Water, preferably? [align left] So, she followed me in. Great. See, I'm fine with having guests, but maybe not now, when all I want is to fall asleep. Good fucking God, I need it, desperately. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...aren't you making yourself too comfortable here? ~~CLARE~~ I'm asking because I think you could use a painkiller... and it's better to not swallow pills dry. You could choke. [align left] Way to make a bitch out of yourself, Tiff! You got yourself a consistent branding and you stick to it, congratulations! [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh... there should be some on the table... wait- ~~CLARE~~ Don't worry, I'll get it. [align left] Something inside of me keeps screeching about how someone else is now going through my things, as if someone searching for a reusable water bottle was about to throw my whole wardrobe upside down. I tell it to shut up because, well, what else can I do right now? It feels like any move is going to make me throw up, and I certainly don't want to get some poor cleaner to take care of that... or have Clare clean it up, since I'm pretty much sure she would, and that'd be even more awkward than this entire situation. I think I'd die if that happened, actually. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Here you go. Uh, you should sit up for that. Take your time. [align left] So obviously I act like a good girl and sit on my bed, even though moving doesn't exactly feel like a good idea right now. Through half-shut eyes — I don't even want to fully open them so that the bright moonlight coming from the window doesn't assault them — I can see Clare's face. Round, pale, freckled, and... *blurry*. In her left hand, there's my trusty reusable water bottle — the second most appealing thing in the world right now. In her right hand, there is a small white pill — the painkiller, which is the *first* most appealing thing in the world right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait. Where'd you get *that* from? [align left] I know, I know. Don't look a gifted horse into its mouth and shit. But the infirmary is incredibly stingy with giving out anything, let alone giving a surplus that you can give out to others. Apparently it's because of some incident that happened ages ago, and I guess they don't want to repeat that, but let's be real, you can get much worse stuff from Izzy Terrell without bigger problems. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh, this? Agreement with the infirmary. I'm actually on volunteer duty at every party in case anyone needs some basic assistance. [align left] Of course. Of course Clare volunteers in the infirmary and she's such a good girl that they just let her bend some rules. This is a perfectly reasonable explanation, so I take the bottle and the pill, praying to whatever's up there that it's not bitter and that I don't choke as I swallow, since I'm totally not used to this. Fortunately, I don't. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ It's good that you questioned me, though. [align left] I can't help but notice that she sounds... happy? Amused, maybe? I open my eyes a little more, and... well, she *is* smiling. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... why wouldn't I? No offence, but I don't even know you that well. ~~CLARE~~ Not many people do. [align left] She looks away. Seems like she's having *a moment*, so I just stare into the distance, at the entrance to the walk-in closet that I'm very fortunate to have here, until she looks back at me again. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Nevermind. I need to stay here for a tiny bit more to be absolutely sure that you're okay. I promise I'll be gone after that. Can I sit down...? [align left] She points on my bed. Normally, I'd ask her if she's okay, because this is absolutely an invasion of my personal space, but let's be real, this space was invaded several times already today, so it's not like it matters anymore. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ [[I guess so.|Guardian Angel2]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- Clare sits down. There is some distance between us, but it's still close enough for me to be able to smell her perfume – a faint, inoffensive mix of vanilla and something flowery. Thank God it's not too intense, I don't think I'd be able to handle that now. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I hope I'm not too close? ~~TIFFANY~~ Didn't you literally have your arm around my waist like, five minutes ago? Chill. ~~CLARE~~ I- Uh... that doesn't mean I'm entitled to your personal space *now*! [align left] She looks away; her long, blond hair now hides her face from me completely. Guess I went a little bit too far with that comment and got poor Clare embarrassed. I take this moment to close my eyes and realize that getting away from all the lights was clearly a good decision. My head's still throbbing and it's terrible, sure, but I no longer feel like I'm going to die. Either the painkiller works this fast, which I doubt, or the placebo effect started kicking in. Good. The first thing I see when I open my eyes again is, well, obviously Clare, staring at me. She's got those weirdly blue eyes — not uncanny, don't get me wrong, just... it's that type of color you'd see in a cloudless sky on a really nice summer day. Completely out of place in a typical human being color palette, but somehow, completely natural on Clare. The moonlight that fills the room gives her skin a certain type of glow that I'm sure no skincare routine could ever give you. All of this, combined with her blindingly white vintage cardigan, makes her look totally *ethereal*. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to stare. ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... I'm used to it. ~~CLARE~~ You're used to it, but that doesn't mean it's okay. [align left] Can't deny, this answer kind of stuns me. It feels weird to hear it being said out loud, not because it's wrong — it isn't — but because I'm used to people thinking that I can never complain about people staring at me, due to being who I am. Then again, it's not like anybody cares behind the Golden Gates. I'm overthinking things, am I not? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you feel any better now? [align left] She asks me with a small smile on her face. It's so... soft. It even looks like she might legitimately care about my answer. Something about it almost makes me want to smile back in response. *Almost*. You need to remember that I still kind of want to throw up. I just give her a little nod as an answer, small enough to not trigger any weird feelings or pain. Clare stands up, dusts off her long, wine red skirt and picks up her worn out messenger bag off of the floor — how didn't I notice it before? I guess pain really blinds you to things. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Get some sleep. If things are still bad tomorrow, go to the infirmary or come find me. ~~TIFFANY~~ Don't you think I won't be able to if things will be this bad again? ~~CLARE~~ Oh! God, I'm so- you're right. Wait. [align left] She opens up her bag, then takes out a pen and a small notebook. Can't help but wonder what else she's got there. She kneels down and puts the notebook on my bed, then, after a short while of scribbling, she tears out the page and puts it on the nightstand. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You could literally just tell me your number and I'd save it in my phone. ~~CLARE~~ Do you want to have a bright light shining straight at your face right now? [align left] I cringe violently at the very thought. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I thought so. Well. Take care and goodnight. [align left] She heads towards the door. As she opens it, the motion sensors outside activate and the warm, bright lights of the corridor completely envelop her. Something about them makes her blond hair look *golden*. She turns her head around again to send me a last smile, as soft as the one before. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Clare, wait. [align left] I have to say something; it feels like I can't let her go without a last word. Clare's head tilts just a little bit to the side and her smile widens ever so slightly. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Yes? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...thanks. For helping me. [align left] I don't really like thanking people. It's not because I'm a bitch, though maybe I kinda am, but because thanking someone means you acknowledge that they did something for you, and from here, you might put yourself in a situation where you'll have to repay them. But I know that Clare won't want anything from me, so it's safe to say it now, and good God, does it feel nice. And Clare blushes. Clare fucking blushes, and I can see it as clear as day. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Anytime. [align left] The door closes so gently that I can barely hear the click of the lock and I'm left alone. Jesus fucking Christ. I should probably go to sleep, but I don't, instead opting to stare at the door, as if that'd make anything better. It's quiet until people start coming back from the Terrell Hall, breaking the silence with barely contained laughter and ear-splitting door slamming. I listen in, trying to pick up Holly's laugh, but it's all for nothing. Maybe it's because she lives on the floor below me. Must be that. When things quiet down again, *"You're used to it, but that doesn't mean it's okay"* starts ringing in my head and I just can't get it out of there, just like I can't get Clare's softness and that goddamn blush out of my thoughts. It's weird. I haven't even thought that much about her until tonight. She was just always in the background, and sometimes, in hushed whispers and gossip that I didn't really remember, but she was never on my mind. And now, I think of her when I let my mind idly wander. There are just questions that I lowkey want to know an answer to. Why does she want to help people this badly? Why doesn't she want anything in return? What is someone like her even doing here, behind the Golden Gates? ...too much thinking. Once the painkiller fully kicks in and my head becomes blissfully empty, [[I finally slip into sleep.|Dream a Little Dream...]]

config.header.left: "3 - Dream a Little Dream..." config.header.right: " " config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I'm falling. I cut through the air so fast that it feels like I'm going to fall apart from the speed alone. I try to reach out, to grab something and hold onto it, but there's nothing — nothing above me, nothing below me, nothing as far as the eye can see. I don't think there's a way to nicely describe it. It's just nothing. So I'm falling, and it's been an eternity here. No move that I make helps. I try to scream but my voice just doesn't come out, no matter how hard I try. Entire years pass right before me with no trace. Nothing I can do. Maybe I'm just meant to fall. Maybe things are meant to be this way. I close my eyes — it changes nothing — and let gravity do its job. If I'm at peace with falling, maybe it won't be that bad. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ ■■■■■■■? [align left] I can't hear anything properly but there's something — *someone* — talking to me. I open my eyes again and see nothing, obviously. I try to answer but all that I say sounds like it's been put through three different compressions after being recorded with the world's cheapest microphone. But at least I'm making a sound, I guess. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ ■■■'■ ■■■■ ■■. ■'■ ■■■■ ■■■ ■■■. [align left] I look around, trying to find the voice's source, and I see it — a light in the distance. I can't move myself towards it, but it moves itself towards me instead, and the closer it gets, the more it starts to resemble... something. The light is close now and it's blinding me, but I can't look away. After a while of staring, I can make out the outlines of someone's silhouette, and I just know that I'm looking at an angel. Her — I don't know how I know it's a woman, but it just feels right — wings are blocking out the darkness around. She extends her hand towards me, clearly so I can take it. I do. It just feels safe. I don't want to fall anymore. The angel wraps her wings around me and everything is right for a moment. [align center] ~~■■■■■~~ I can ■■■■ you. [align left] Everything gets brighter and brighter, and I slowly stop feeling anything. And then, there's [[nothing|The Search]] again.

config.header.left: "4 - The Search" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I'm never sleeping in my clothes ever again. It's this kind of thing that makes you feel absolutely miserable and dirty in ways you've never thought might be possible when you wake up. Fortunately, there's nothing that a really fucking hot shower won't fix. I'm in my cute little bathrobe and I really don't want to dress up yet, so I'm laying on my bed and staring at the ceiling. My head no longer hurts, but it feels like I got my brain taken out and replaced with a bunch of used makeup wipes while I was asleep. Not that it'd change anything when it comes to my intellect, but you know. It's 10am, and there's still not a single sign of life from Holly. She never left me alone without an explanation like this before. If she wanted to leave earlier, she just told me, and we came back together. I already sent her a message to ask if we're going to meet up in the morning, as we always do, and she didn't even answer this one. Now, that's... concerning. I stand up. The notebook page with Clare's number on it is still there, and maybe I'd pay it a bit more attention if I wasn't feeling like something terrible either happened already or is about to happen. Seeing it gives me an idea, though. I dial Holly's number as I start pacing around to get some of that anxiety off of me, and... *This number is currently unavailable.* Now the panic really sets in. There is no time for outfit planning and makeup — even if there was, I don't think I'd be able to come up with something looking even remotely good, mostly because I'm shaking like a rabid chihuahua. No use going for breakfast because I don't think I'll be able to swallow anything with that knot in my throat. I need to make sure that Holly is fine before going back to having a normal day. The corridors are deathly quiet when I finally leave my room. It's been a while since I visited Holly, mostly because we tend to hang out either in some more public space or in my room, but I don't have to think too hard about where I need to go — I'm practically on autopilot when I arrive at her door. Some part of me still clings to the thought that I'm overreacting and everything is going to be alright. Maybe she's just asleep after a rough night, maybe she's already in the cafeteria, maybe she's with someone else, she's social like that. But she'd never let her phone die and she'd never leave me without a word for no reason, I'm sure of it. I knock on the door — or rather, I try, because it opens just a tiny bit after I hit it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly...? [align left] No answer. I open the door a little bit more to get a better look. The entire room looks like she didn't let the cleaning team enter for weeks. Her pink dresses and sweaters are all over the place. Empty cans and bottles *everywhere*. The bed is completely unmade and even her beloved plushie, an absolutely ancient black kitten that she named Dolly, lies next to her nightstand, face down. Holly loves it too much to let it rot on the floor. Something had to happen. Something had to... I want to move but I just can't. I'm standing in the doorway and trying to process, and that feeling of dread creeps all over me. What do I do now? Where do I go? Check the infirmary? Go to the guards? What the fuck is going on? [align center] ~~???~~ Looking for Holly? [align left] I turn around to check who the voice belongs to. Behind me stands Ana Vitória, or Vi, as we all call her. She's not a celebrity or anything herself but she certainly has an aura of one, probably inherited from her mother, who's a pretty big deal in Brazilian TV. You wouldn't find a single person that doesn't like Vi in the entire Passerine Hills — she's just got a way to get along with everyone. That's why she's on Izzy Terrell's team for Friday party planning — she's handling a lot of things related to invitations and gathers all sorts of info from people to make sure that there's no conflict or weird stuff going on. And this makes her particularly useful to me at this moment. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah. Any idea where she might be? ~~VI~~ Uh, no. I thought *you* might know. *Fuck.* See... [align left] She opens up the sports bag that's slung over her shoulder. From what I've seen, she's using it instead of a backpack or a purse for whatever reason — probably to match her the overall aesthetic that she's trying to curate with that varsity jacket and tennis skirt combo. It's all in neat shades of white and green, and that really works well with her tan skin and dark hair. So you can imagine how out of place it felt when the thing she took out of her bag turned out to be pink. [align center] ~~VI~~ She, uh... left this. [align left] Holly's phone, I have no doubt about it. It's her phone case with all those faded doodles all over it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ It's dead, isn't it? ~~VI~~ *Extra dead*. [align left] She flips the phone over so that I can see the screen... or whatever is left of it. It's cracked into tiny little pieces in a way that definitely makes it unusable. You don't get cracks like that from just dropping your phone once. It had to be done on purpose. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ How the fuck did *that* happen? ~~VI~~ I don't know. The last time I saw her was yesterday, when she left with Izzy, but she didn't come back. I thought she was with you. ~~TIFFANY~~ She *wasn't*. ~~VI~~ And you didn't check on her when you were coming back? [align left] There's no judgment in Vi's voice but I feel the need to defend myself anyway. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Just ask Clare, she'll tell you why I *couldn't*. [align left] Vi looked mildly concerned until I mentioned Clare's name; after that, it's definitely a look of absolute panic. It's unnatural to see her like this, without that trademark confident stare. That doesn't help me calm down at all. [align center] ~~VI~~ Did something happen? [align left] She looks me up and down like she's trying to find some sign of injury or whatever on me and a shiver goes down my spine. This is meant to be a safe place for us all. This is meant to be a place where we come to rest from the fame and the drama, outside of all the regular social stuff that's inevitable when you have a bunch of people gathered in the same spot in the middle of nowhere. The thought that someone could still get hurt here, combined with the sight of the smashed screen and that mess in Holly's room makes me feel legitimately nauseous. [align center] ~~VI~~ Tiffany? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...had a migraine, that's all. Pretty strong one. [align left] Vi sighs with relief but that worried expression doesn't disappear from her face at all. I wonder if she's thinking the same things I'm thinking right now. [align center] ~~VI~~ Okay, so, nothing suspicious happened? Nothing- ~~TIFFANY~~ Nothing. ~~VI~~ `(cautiously)` Before *and* after Clare took you out of the Terrell Hall? [align left] I don't like how she said it, like she's scared of the answer. She's staring at me with her dark, almost black eyes and her grip on Holly's phone tightens just a little bit. I swear she expects me to drop something catastrophic on her, like she's preparing herself for bad news. Like she knows something I don't. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, before *and* after. Why? ~~VI~~ Okay, good, forget it. Listen, Holly talked to Em last night, maybe she'll know something. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...Em? ~~VI~~ Emmeline. [align left] That's what I thought and that's exactly what I didn't want to hear. You don't just go to talk to Emmeline about the weather or to have a nice chat — she's all about the *business*, which in her case means that she's willing to get you out of trouble with just about any institution you might have a problem with in Passerine Hills. Us, White Crow guys, are still somewhat bound to rules and regulations, so she's not left without any work to do. Need to smooth things over with the guards? Go to Emmeline. Need to get a package that won't go through the screening on the entry? Go to Emmeline. Fucked up in any way? Go to Emmeline. Of course, she doesn't do any of this for free. Sometimes, she takes money for it — frankly, pocket change amounts for rich bitch standards. Other times, she asks for a piece of information — a rumor, a secret, anything that might give her leverage against you or others. But the most terrifying payment she takes has to be a favor — a promise that you'll do something for her at some point in time. Nobody admitted to owing her anything but rumors spread. Some say that she's getting invites to events this way or that she asks you to go null with her, others say that she's asking for help with literal crimes, and in the end, nobody really knows. That's why it's terrifying. You don't know what she's going to ask for and since she's besties with Izzy Terrell, you don't want to refuse her, just in case she decides to use this connection in some way. So if Holly had to go to her, she had to be in trouble in one way or another. There was no other explanation. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Alright. Alright, let's go. [align left] Vi gives me Holly's phone. I put it in my pocket to not lose it and we head out. As we get outside, I can't help but notice that Vi keeps throwing curious glances at me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What? ~~VI~~ Are you scared of her? ~~TIFFANY~~ Excuse me? ~~VI~~ Are you scared of Em? [align left] She doesn't seem to be joking. Complete poker face. There's no way she doesn't know what Emmeline's reputation is like because it's the main course on the Passerine Hills Gossip Menu. Nobody knows where this girl came from, fuck knows why she's here in the first place, her name returns no real results in any search engine you might try. It's like she came out of nowhere and instantly got herself into this weird position of power where she can negotiate whatever she wants in a matter of what, a month or two? It went as far as people speculating she's in witness protection, that maybe her family is all lawyers that got themselves into something they shouldn't, and that's why she's... like this. That seems to be the most popular theory — that nasty scar on her face is proof enough that she must've been through some things I'd rather not think about. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You aren't? ~~VI~~ No, why would I be? ~~TIFFANY~~ Nevermind. Where are we going, anyway? [align left] There aren't many people outside, probably because it's cold as fuck. I look around, just in case I might catch a glimpse of Holly somewhere. Nothing. [align center] ~~VI~~ The library. Wait, did you even eat yet? [align left] She sounds like she actually cares or something. I wonder how much of her niceness is an act and how much of it is genuine — you just can't be friends with everyone, after all. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll deal with it later. ~~VI~~ Got it. But if you need a protein bar or something, just lemme know. I always have an extra or two. [align left] Normally I wouldn't even begin to entertain the idea but my good image is already on a trial, since I'm wearing whatever I first grabbed from my closet and I've got no makeup on, and I don't think my barely existing dignity could take another hit if my stupid stomach growled in the worst possible moment. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ If you offer. [align left] Vi raises her left brow; I wonder if she did this on purpose or if she just can't move the right brow at all. There's this scar that runs through it and it doesn't look very deep or thick, but you never know with those things. [align center] ~~VI~~ You're not allergic to peanuts, right? ~~TIFFANY~~ No. ~~VI~~ Great. [align left] She opens up her bag — quite a challenge, considering we're moving — and takes out one of the bars. For a second she wrestles with the wrapper, cursing under her breath in Portuguese, I assume. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You know, I can- ~~VI~~ I've got it, just... [align left] She stops, probably to focus all of her energy and attention on opening the damn thing. After an entire lifetime of waiting, she finally manages to do it and hands me the bar with a stupidly proud grin on her face. I just take it with a *thank you* nod and we go back to walking. The library is just around the corner but Vi slows down. [align center] ~~VI~~ Hey, can I ask something? [align left] My mouth is still absolutely full of dry, peanut-flavored mess, so I just nod. Maybe she wants to give me time to actually eat it before we go in. How considerate. [align center] ~~VI~~ Sorry, but- was Clare- was she *normal* yesterday? [align left] This is a really weird question but I think of Clare for a moment anyway while finishing the bar. I think of how she stayed to make sure I'm okay, how she left me her number to make sure I won't be left helpless if the situation continues, how her arm felt so warm around my waist, how weirdly ethereal she looked like in the moonlight, and I almost choke instead of swallowing because what the fuck am I even thinking about? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh, yeah. Yeah, nothing... nothing weird, I think. [align left] Vi just nods. No other reaction. She doesn't even let me ask any clarifying questions before she turns back to the library door and I wonder why would anyone even ask about something like this as [[I follow her in.|Deal with the Devil]]

config.header.left: "5 - Deal with the Devil" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I really love libraries. You know those kids that would rather spend their entire life tucked away with a book somewhere in the corner because the world is just a little bit too scary to confront today? That was me in the Life Before, believe it or not. So when I find myself inside the library, I can't help but feel safer, even if just for the short moment between our entrance and the inevitable meeting with Emmeline. The library building has two main parts: the older part where the library actually is and the modern one with the café that is there in case anyone will want to grab something while pulling an all-nighter studying. Maybe people who do it exist, I don't know, I'm not one of them, but coffee's pretty good here. We come here with Holly from time to time. I hopefully scan the café tables in an attempt to find her here but it'd be too good if I found her now. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(quietly)` She said she'll be here... she's never late, where is she... [align left] Vi looks around as well, trying to locate Emmeline, I assume. She curses under her breath — pretty much sure she threw a *caralho* in there, which is one of those Portuguese words that I learned to recognize as more and more Brazilians kept flooding my comment sections. [align center] ~~???~~ Viii~! [align left] We both turn around to find the source of the noise. I have to do a double take because it's just not possible but it clearly is. Emmeline is rapidly approaching us, coming from the library entrance's side. It's her, without a doubt. You can tell by just a quick glance at her hair: pitch black, save for the right half of her straight bangs, which is white for some reason. She's wearing her trademark navy blue suit and carrying that black briefcase that probably contains three centuries of blackmail material. But I still had to do a double take because Emmeline would never call anyone by their nickname; she's really adamant on using last names for everyone. She'd never call Vi, well... Vi. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Apologies, Vi, I was- [align left] Or she would, actually. She stops talking as soon as she sees me; her face, already paper-white, gets drained of all color there was, making the reddish scar on her cheek even more visible. This wasn't a mixup or a coincidence. She called her Vi again, *on purpose*, and she's aware that I heard it. I look at her, completely stunned. The top of her head is somewhere under my chin so she tilts her head up a little to look me back in the eye; the light coming from the glass roof reflects in her square glasses, hiding her eyes behind the glare. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ah. *Ragnell*. ~~TIFFANY~~ > [[...did you just call her *Vi*?]] > [[Ah. Odenkirk.]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" emviunlock: true -- [align left] I know I should've kept my mouth shut but I couldn't control myself. Emmeline's jaw drops; it's just a split second of actual shock and her expression is back to the usual resting bitch face that she's got, but I know what I saw. I struck something with this question. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You've misheard me, Ragnell. I said *hi*. [align left] We both know that she didn't — it's *Vee*, not the *Vi* like you'd have in, let's say, *violence*, so it's not even remotely similar. She's just hoping that I won't question her "correction". I won't, mostly because I'm not suicidal and I don't want her to destroy me, but also because I'm here to get info out of her and making her mad before she tells me the price of that *service* isn't the best move in general. {embed passage: 'Deal cont.'}

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Now, with... *greetings* out of the way... may I know what you're doing here? [align left] Her accent sounds like it's been taken out of a 20th century movie — clear, formal, definitely giving the upper class vibe... and conveniently untraceable to any place. [align center] ~~VI~~ Em, calm down. I brought her with me. [align left] Emmeline takes a step back. She looks me up and down, then switches her attention to Vi. It's clear that she doesn't want me to be here or to talk to her at all and honestly, it's mutual. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ What for? ~~VI~~ Why don't you ask *her* why she's here? [align left] Vi's tone is weirdly soft and encouraging, like she's trying to convince a very stubborn child to be nice to someone. I guess that works because Emmeline sighs deeply and looks back at me again. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ I'm *listening*. ~~TIFFANY~~ I, uh- ~~EMMELINE~~ *Don't waste my time.* ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly talked to you yesterday. I need to know what happened. [align left] I don't know how I manage to keep my voice stable and calm like this. It's probably funny to you, the thought that I could be scared of someone like this, but you never had to face her. If I sound too desperate, I'm fucked. If I sound like I don't care, I'm fucked. And I can't afford to not know. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Holly? Holly Marchmont? We talked, that's true. Naturally, I can't divulge the exact contents of the conversation, but... I could tell you *something*. For the right price. ~~TIFFANY~~ Alright. How much? [align left] Emmeline gives me her trademark soulless smirk: the right corner of her lips rises while the left one stays unmoving, probably due to nerve damage that probably was the consequence of... whatever left that scar on her face. It's not the lack of symmetry that scares me but the way I can't see her eyes behind the glare in her glasses. The shiver that goes down my spine is so strong that I can't help but cringe. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ No need to be so *material*, Ragnell. [align left] Oh no. Oh fuck no. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You'll just... repay me with a favor in the future, how about that? [align left] Well... ***fuck***. I must've sounded a bit too desperate. Now she knows that this *means something* to me, and that's a weakness that can be exploited. Sure, I could try to backpedal and seem more unbothered than I really am but I don't think she'll buy it – hell, I don't think I'd be able to *sell it* in the first place. But accepting this deal means that I'll have to do whatever she'll want me to do and I have no damn idea what someone like me could even offer her. She's not going to go back on it, I know it. So the only way is... [align center] ~~VI~~ Em, aren't you a bit too harsh? [align left] Both of us turn our attention to Vi immediately. I still can't see Emmeline's eyes but I'm sure that they're wide open in surprise. Mine surely are. You just don't tell Emmeline that she's doing something wrong. It's a death sentence and yet, Vi is here, casually lounging in the electric chair. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Aren't you- ~~VI~~ Let it go. It's *important* for her to know. [align left] This is surreal. I hide my hands behind my back and pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming right now — and what a fucking dream it would be — but no, this is real. Vi seriously just cut Emmeline off and she doesn't seem to be sorry in any way. She's got her arms crossed on her chest, frowning with disappointment as Emmeline stares at her in absolute disbelief, not even trying to argue back. Between this and the nickname thing... there *must* be something going on between the two of them. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Vi... if I make an exception once and word gets out- ~~VI~~ I'll take care of any consequences. [align left] I stay quiet. Vi is clearly trying to fight for a better outcome for me and I'd have to be stupid to potentially kill that by saying something I shouldn't. The tension that's hanging between the two of them is so strong that I can practically feel it in my body — or maybe it's just the fact that I'm wasting my time here while not knowing where Holly is that's making me stressed. For a good while, they just stare each other down, neither of them wanting to budge, and I truly have no idea how Vi manages to not break. Emmeline takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose with a tired sigh. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ragnell. I'll go easy on you, just this once. [align left] It takes all of my willpower to not sigh with relief right here and now. As Emmeline puts her glasses on again, I send Vi a grateful look. She just shrugs. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ But you're going to do a small thing for me and you'll do it as soon as I give you the info. No buts, no excuses. And you better not tell anyone about what happened here. ~~VI~~ Em- ~~EMMELINE~~ It's nothing big. Lady Ragnell over here will just have to be my page girl for a moment and deliver a message to Terrell. [align left] Oh, I see what it is now. She still needs a little power trip to keep herself going. Compared to waiting for whole eternity for God fucking knows what, though, it doesn't sound half bad, and since Vi mentioned Holly went somewhere with Izzy, I might as well just go and ask them as well. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Deal. ~~EMMELINE~~ Aww, good girl. ~~VI~~ Em, I don't think you should be telling her that. Anyway, I'll- I'll just get our seats. See you later, Tiffany. ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh, yeah. See you. [align left] I don't really want to dwell on what Emmeline said to me so let's just never mention that ever again. Vi retreats into the depths of the café and Emmeline stares at her all the way through, like she's trying to make sure that she's safe throughout the entire journey. This is when the unthinkable starts to enter my mind: the thought that Emmeline might, in fact, experience human feelings, and that some of them might even be something else than condescension and contempt. Maybe some of them are even warm. Maybe she's even capable of liking — or, dare I say, loving — someone, and this is why she didn't obliterate Vi on the spot after she went against her. You know that weird feeling that hits you when you realize you might've been thinking about someone in a really unfair way? [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ragnell, if you don't want to pay attention, you might as well leave. [align left] Aaand poof, the feeling's gone. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Your info first. Marchmont talked to me yesterday, after we started wrapping the party up. She was clearly distressed, I could barely get what she was talking about. Absolutely nonsensical babbling most of the time but from what I've gathered... [align left] She looks around, making sure that nobody's listening in. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(whispered)` Whatever it is about... I don't think it's regular trouble with the school. It's something else, possibly something bigger. Trust me that I tried my best to find out but there's no negotiating with someone in a state of... emotional distress. I told her to come back once she's calm and I haven't heard from her since. This is the entire story. [align left] *Something bigger*. There's such a weight to those words. *Something bigger. Emotional distress*. Fuck. There must've been something I missed. Some sign, some clue, something, anything, but I have no idea how to find them or where to search. She didn't tell me anything suspicious. Think, Tiffany, think... [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ That was it, Ragnell. Time for your end of the bargain. [align left] Emmeline walks up to the nearest table in the cafe and throws her briefcase onto it. As she searches for something inside, I keep thinking about how stupid this shit is. I'm out there, running from one person to another and getting nothing but crumbs of information in return, all while Holly is God knows where, doing God knows what. I wish she could just walk in here, run up to me and tell me that she's fine. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Easy task. Even you shouldn't have trouble remembering what you're meant to do. You go to Lyrebird House, find Terrell, and give them this envelope. The man behind the desk won't let you go through without a pass because it's *Lyrebird* so I include the pass here too. If I find out you messed it up in any way, shape or form, you're dead. Do you understand? ~~TIFFANY~~ I do. [align left] She hands me a simple white envelope — quite thick, without any marks or writing on it — and a black card with *House Lyrebird* proudly displayed in gold letters in the middle. I've never been to Lyrebird before because I never had to go there but it's one of those places you keep wondering about. It's the aura of exclusivity, I suppose. I take the quest items from her and she sends me that trademark smirk of hers again. She puts her hand on my shoulder and pats it in an infuriatingly condescending way. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ You know, Ragnell... I've already sent all of this by email but there's something so charming about the good old ways. Good luck. ~~TIFFANY~~ Please never touch me again. [align left] Emmeline just raises her eyebrows — the right one is white to match the color of the bangs, I suppose, and I still wonder why someone like Emmeline would make that fashion choice — but she says nothing more. She gets back to her briefcase, makes sure everything inside is in its place and disappears into the café. I take a deep breath and make sure that I have the envelope and the card grasped as firmly as possible. At this point, I only hope that Izzy will have some more concrete information somehow. [[If not, I think I'm going to start committing crimes.|Breaking the Silence]]

config.header.left: "6 - Breaking the Silence" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### I can't remember the last time I walked so fast. The sooner I get to Lyrebird, the sooner I get to talk to Izzy and maybe that'll finally clear something up. On my way, I'm trying to piece everything together: the disappearance, the broken phone, the mess in the room, the fact that Holly is in trouble of some sort, and that it apparently transcends the Golden Gates. It just doesn't feel real. She'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't she? We're friends, we're besties, we've been together here since the very beginning. It doesn't make sense. None of this makes any sense. [align center] ~~???~~ `(from somewhere behind me)` Stop. [align left] It's not a voice I recognize and I don't have time to stop for anyone. I don't even turn around because honestly, I don't really care. [align center] ~~???~~ Tiffany, stop. [align left] When I turn around, I'm fully ready to tell whoever is behind me to fuck right off because I just don't have patience for any of this. When I see who it is, though, that plan gets instantly abandoned. Tara. It's Tara fucking Talwar in her black Victorian dress and violently red makeup. I didn't even know she could *talk* until now — she never gives any interviews, never really talks to anyone, and there's literally no footage of her even speaking — so that's why I'm totally stunned. If you're interested in fashion or even just celebrity news, you probably saw Tara's work at shows or on the covers of magazines. She's not just a make-up artist, she's *the* make-up artist; while she sticks to the runway and editorial looks most of the time, since this is where her creativity really shines, she will sometimes benevolently look down upon us, non-models. If she agrees to work with you, it's a sign that you *really* made it. I won't lie to you: I wanted her to notice me but maybe now is not the best time for that. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Listen, I don't have- ~~TARA~~ Something happened yesterday. [align left] The usual rumor that goes around when it comes to Tara not speaking is that she's just too ashamed of her Indian accent; it's definitely there, don't get me wrong, but it absolutely *isn't* what makes her sound strange. It's the fact that she sounds like a broken text-to-speech, mechanically separating her syllables and having a completely flat tone. It takes me a while to realize that what she said wasn't a question but a statement. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Like what? ~~TARA~~ You didn't come back to the dorm with your friend and she didn't come back at all. Strange. ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait, how do you know? [align left] Tara just stares at me for a moment. It doesn't show well on pics so you might not know that, but her eyes are unnaturally yellow — and I don't mean the whites, I mean the *irises*. Vivid red reverse eyeliner really pops against her brown skin but it's also so sharp and... *hostile*, like... I don't know, war paint of sorts. Now combine all of that with the fact that she doesn't blink and you can imagine why she's giving me goosebumps. [align center] ~~TARA~~ I don't sleep well. [align left] That's all she says. I grip the envelope and the Lyrebird pass a little tighter because my hands start to shake and I don't want to accidentally drop anything. Since Tara stays silent, I just assume that she was awake and saw me coming back to White Crow — we both live there, after all. [align center] ~~TARA~~ You're going to see her? ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly? When I find her, I guess. Do you- ~~TARA~~ Not Holly. Clare. [align left] She points towards the pass in my hand. I try to think of a reason why she would even ask anything like that and then it hits me. If she was awake to see me come back, she probably saw me with Clare. She saw Clare's arm around my waist and how we went into my room together, and... and she probably got a really, *really* bad idea of what happened. I must be as red as her eyeliner right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, listen, you got it all wrong- ~~TARA~~ Don't let the sweetness deceive you. All you know about her is a lie. She's a hunter. [align left] A... what? I look at her to try and see any sign of her messing with me; maybe some muscle twitch as she tries to not smile or whatever, but no. She's perfectly still. Unblinking. Her black, wavy hair that's touching her shoulders should move at least a little bit if she's breathing and it just... doesn't. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What does that even mean? ~~TARA~~ Do you remember Reed Verbrannt? [align left] I only have really vague memories of them. They were one of those rare scholarship students that disappeared after the first two months or so — no walk of shame, so I guess they just went void. From what I've heard, it's not that uncommon: there's always a gap between them and, well, everyone else, socially and financially. Add the academic pressure and the fact that people practically expect them to disappear... yeah, no wonder someone wouldn't want to be here. I know I should just go on my way because I have things to do but let's be real, it's a bizarre situation. Tara's speaking, for starters, that's already an event, and now there's a whole additional *mystery of Reed Verbrannt* bullshit happening. Maybe if Tara tells me more about it, I'll be able to talk about it with Holly once I find her. Bet she'd appreciate sharing what she knows. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What about- ~~???~~ There you are! [align left] Tara turns her head towards the voice right as the sentence begins; I need a bit more time to process but as soon as I have that person in the field of my vision, everything makes sense. There's only one person in Passerine Hills that's this tall and this... gorgeous, honestly. Kaja. Yes, *that* Kaja, supermodel Kaja Dvorak-Bednarczyk. Is she as beautiful in real life as she is on the covers? No, she looks somehow even better, even in the dullest oversized hoodies and baggy pants with an unimaginable amount of pockets that she apparently loves to wear when she doesn't have cameras in her face. Even with no makeup and short red hair that seems particularly messy today, she's effortlessly stunning. You need to forgive me for being all gay on main; she was one of my biggest celebrity crushes for a bit, which makes the fact that we're in the same place now, on a roughly equal level, really fucking awkward. I'm kind of grateful that she doesn't seem to see me, mostly because whenever she does see me, she looks at me like my very presence is offending her somehow, which is fun, since I literally didn't do anything to her, but okay, I guess. She just goes straight to Tara and immediately starts signing something to her with broad gestures. Holly always said Kaja and Tara are... soulmates. They have this whole secret sign language that only they know – that's how Tara gets away with never saying anything out loud, Kaja interprets everything and kind of serves as her voice. They appear at every event together. They even have the same room — not even people in Sparrow share rooms when they're there, mind you, it's not a necessity. Sure, they never confirmed that they're a couple or anything, but it's so obvious that you'd have to be the most oblivious person on the planet to not see that. Kaja turns to me after Tara replies to her with a series of sharp gestures that don't look all that nice. Her blue eyes are weirdly grayish and dark when she looks at me — not like I offend her by existing this time, more like she's watching a struggling stray animal. [align center] ~~KAJA~~ God, you look like shit. Infirmary is close if you're sick. [align left] I'm not sure if she's mocking me or not and I don't really want to think about it too much anyway. It's hard enough to not think about how cute that Slavic accent is, so my intellectual resources are kinda stretched thin at the moment. Some thoughts just never go away, I guess. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, thanks. [align left] For just a split second, Kaja seems surprised. Guess she expected a different answer, something sassier and snappier maybe, but I really don't want to go there now. Then, after the shock apparently wears out, the world's tiniest smile appears on her freckled face. Before I have any time to process, she signs something to Tara and they both walk away as if nothing happened. Alright then. I go on my way too. I only remember that Tara didn't finish what she was meant to tell me when I'm already right [[under Lyrebird.|Lyrebird]]

config.header.left: "7 - Lyrebird" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" _honorific: random.d6 -- ### Kinda too late to turn back now, right? I squeeze the pass in my hand so hard that the plastic bites pretty deeply into my hand. There's just something wildly intimidating about Lyrebird. It doesn't look a lot different from all the other buildings there with its white walls, arched windows, and columns at the entrance, but has this aura of exclusivity that makes me feel like I'm going to get kicked out and yelled at for just stepping inside because I'm not good enough. It's ridiculous, of course, that someone who walked literal red carpets would be afraid of going inside a building like this but fear isn't always rational. A guard in the white uniform materializes out of nowhere so I show them my pass. They nod in approval and open the door for me. I don't even have time to look around the lobby — white, black, and gold all around, Passerine Hills' trademark colors — before the guy at the front desk notices me. [align center] ~~THE GUY AT THE DESK~~ Good morning! I don't think I've seen you here before, Miss...? [align left] I've never seen him before either so I assume he's assigned to Lyrebird specifically. Slick back blond hair, cleanly shaven, weirdly friendly smile on his face. The staff's smiles are rare and usually fake but there's something authentic about this one. Maybe it's because he doesn't look much older than most students here and he hasn't gotten to the bitter stage of life yet. Also, not that I'm complaining, but how the fuck doesn't he know who I am? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...Ragnell. [align left] I look at the nametag — black and gold — pinned to his gray vest. *Mark Bracken*. Okay, cool. [align center] ~~APPARENTLY MARK~~ Miss Ragnell, right. Your pass, please. [align left] I give it to him. His brows furrow as he examines the card; the sudden thought that the pass is fake and I'm going to get in trouble for that crosses my mind. Emmeline wouldn't do this... would she? What if she did, though? What if she asked someone to get her a fake pass and- okay, that's too far-fetched, I need to chill. Mark opens the drawer in his desk, puts the pass there, and takes out a six-sided die. He rolls it, examines the result, and looks back at me. [align center] ~~MARK~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Visiting Mixter Terrell? [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Visiting Miss Terrell? [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Visiting Mister Terrell? [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Visiting Mixter Terrell? [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Visiting Miss Terrell? [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Visiting Mister Terrell? [align left] I don't even want to ask how he knew that. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yes. ~~MARK~~ Floor -1. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...floor -1? ~~MARK~~ `(clearly amused)` The basement, if this is the terminology you prefer, Miss Ragnell. Down the stairs to the right, it's very hard to miss. [align left] I'm not even surprised. If there's one person that'd completely unironically live in the basement, it's probably Izzy Terrell. Everyone knows that they spent years in Passerine Hills already, even though they're roughly my age, due to some agreement that their family has with the school, and the lack of contact with the outside really shows. Their accent is a mess that can't be assigned to any place, they seem like they'd disintegrate if you'd ask them to take a step outside, and as we all know, they're... I don't want to say *weird* but I don't think I have a better word. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...thank you. [align left] And to the basement I go. Not the way I imagined my first visit to Lyrebird but to be fair, I didn't really imagine that a lot and the whole chain of events that had to happen in order for me to come here was also beyond anything I could ever think about. The warm lighting of the Lyrebird lobby contrasts so much with the cool white light that I can see at the end of the marble stairs. The deep black carpet completely muffles any sound my steps might make and it's all so eerily quiet, like nobody was meant to come here. I swear to God, I can hear my own heartbeat when I finally step into the corridor, that cold, liminal space with sparse doors with no handles or knobs. Fucking backrooms energy. But one door is painted vivid turquoise. There's no plaque or number on it but I know it has to be Izzy's, since it's pretty unique. I knock, making sure that I have the envelope ready — it's a little bent but I guess they'll have to deal with it. For a short while, absolutely nothing happens. I'm about to knock again when I hear a bunch of metallic noises from inside the room and then, the door opens. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(clearly tired)` Hey, uh... didn't expect you. Anything you need? [align left] I don't think I've ever seen them during the day — I only ever meet them in the Terrell Hall on Friday nights, when we're both completely drenched in the party lights. Now I get a full view of their messy electric blue hair, dark eyes — though they're known for wearing colored contacts, so it might not be their natural eye color — and horribly, *horribly* pale skin, like they never saw the sun in their entire life. Considering that they live in a literal basement, that could be the case. Honestly, they're really brave because I swear to God that I would never in my wildest dreams be able to open the door wearing nothing but boxers and an oversized t-shirt that says *"I used the litter box in the gender neutral bathroom at the Dorian Electra concert"* like they did. This might be because I'd never wear any of this but if I hypothetically owned this kind of an outfit, I'd probably keep it to myself. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Just saying that I'm out of coke, so like, no bumping that until I get more, sorry. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, not here for that. [align left] Izzy can get you practically anything you want. Holly told me that they're dealing just for fun — that they don't really take any payments because money is an abstract concept for them and that all they want is for people to, quote, *"not take fuck-knows-what, if they need to take it"*. They can just do anything they want because they're a Terrell, their parents are on the Board, and the Terrell family has been deeply involved with Passerine Hills — financially and otherwise — ever since this place's beginnings, hence the *Terrell* Hall. Izzy could be assembling a nuclear bomb in this basement and they'd meet exactly zero consequences. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Waaait, no. You needed a pass to come here, you had to put in some effort... is it time-sensitive? Like, plan B or- ~~TIFFANY~~ No, Emmeline- [align left] Izzy covers their mouth and makes a high pitched noise that I only ever heard in corrupted audio while editing my earliest content. This shouldn't be a sound that a human can make, and yet. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ *Emmeline* needs it? Oh shit, did she- ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, no! [align left] I shove the envelope into their hands. They frown, sniffle, then open it. After a short while of studying the contents, they whine in disappointment. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ She really sent you with this? Like, she sent me an email already... ~~TIFFANY~~ She told me, yeah. [align left] They yawn and stretch their arms up; guess I wasn't the only one who had a rough night. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Sorry, she's weird like that... love her to death, but she's really touchy about paperwork. Wanna, uh, come in? Hang out? See my new army, maybe? Painted a new batch yesterday... ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll pass. Listen, about the party- [align left] Izzy sniffles again, then somewhat absentmindedly wipes their nose with the back of their hand. Blood. There's blood on the back of their hand and blood in their nostril. Fortunately, I'm not one of those people who overreact at the sight. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God. *Oh my fucking God, you're* ***bleeding***! [align left] Just kidding! I can't fucking take it at all. I need to put my hand on the wall to keep myself steady because my knees get really weak all of a sudden. Izzy takes a good look at their hands — both the clean one they're holding the envelope with and the bloodstained one — and sighs. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(even more tired than before)` Not again... sorry, let me... [align left] They take a step back and take a tissue out of nowhere, then just shove it up their nose. It's like that didn't even faze them in the slightest. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, uh... what did you want? About yesterday? ~~TIFFANY~~ Are you sure you- ~~IZZY~~ `(ignoring me completely)` Something about the party, right? ~~TIFFANY~~ It's... it's about Holly- ~~IZZY~~ Oh, right! I have that phone I promised her, can you quickly go to Clare's and tell her to come get it? Sorry for, like, bossing you around after that stupid thing Emme made you do, but- ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait, no, pause. What do you mean go to *Clare's*? [align left] Izzy looks at me like I just told them a joke that didn't quite land. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ To... Clare's room? ~~TIFFANY~~ I got that part, just- she's here? At Clare's? [align left] They lean against the doorframe and nod; the look on their face shifts to one of concern, which is incredible, considering they're the one with the tissue shoved up their bleeding nose. I can see that they're mildly shaking, so I probably shouldn't take too much of their time. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ I, uh... listen, Mark- the guy behind the desk... he's gonna... he's gonna try and get you to leave when you go back up. Tell him I sent you, alright? That I... that I want you to go to Clare, okay? [align left] They give me a weak smile as they step back into their room. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're gonna be fine, right? You don't need me to- I don't know, get someone? ~~IZZY~~ Nah. Go get your bestie. [align left] I don't even get a moment to answer because they close the door in my face. There's no time to process. That corridor seems weirdly hostile now, like it's going to collapse on me, so I keep my hand on the wall as I make my way out. Not even a bit of this anxiety is warranted but try to convince your wildly beating heart that you're not in mortal danger after seeing someone bleed. I almost trip on the stairs; my legs feel like jelly but I really can't stall any longer. Holly is here. Holly's at Clare's, for whatever fucking reason. Finally, after a bunch of running around, after all this worrying, I'll get to see her, talk to her, find out what went on. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Miss Ragnell! I hope you had a- ~~TIFFANY~~ Where's Clare Dumont's room? ~~MARK~~ First of all, your pass only allowed you for one visit. Second, Miss Dumont already- ~~TIFFANY~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mixter Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Miss Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mister Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mixter Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Miss Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Did I fucking stutter?! Mister Terrell sent me, just tell me where to go! [align left] Listen. I'm not a big fan of yelling at people in general and screaming at people who are just trying to do their job is absolutely disgusting behavior. But for fucks sake, I'm tired, I'm so tired. There's been enough obstacles and delays already; one more was just the straw to break the camel's back. Mark doesn't even flinch. His smile disappears for a brief second but it appears again just as fast. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Ah, Miss Ragnell, you should've said so earlier! Down this hallway. All rooms are- [align left] I just bolt. It's like I'm possessed by something. I'm not thinking, I'm just running, and I don't care about who might see me or what they might say. It'll be over soon. I'll get Holly, we'll talk it out, and everything will go back to normal. Everything will finally be back to normal. I almost slam into the wall at the end of the corridor. It's all a blur but I still make out the *C. Dumont* engraved on the golden plaque on one of the doors. My hands are shaking as I knock and I'm just generally a mess, emotionally and physically. I'm here, no real breakfast, no coffee, no makeup on, wearing a completely random outfit, shaking, and panting like crazy. When Clare opens and the smell of pancakes hits me, I almost start to cry. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh! Tiffany, I- why didn't you call, I would- how are you- ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly. Holly is here, right? [align left] The spark in Clare's eyes goes out. She steps outside and closes the door behind her, then takes a deep breath before she looks at me again with a serious expression on her face. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ She's here. But I think there are some things you need to know first. [align left] I think my soul leaves my body at this moment. It's like I'm floating just an inch or two from where I'm supposed to be. Is there something wrong? Why is she here in the first place? Did something happen to her? Did someone hurt her, in the end? Or did she hurt someone and had to hide somewhere? What the fuck happened? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` I went to the infirmary in the morning to get some of my records straight and... and she was there. She wasn't in very good shape, I think... she might've had a mental breakdown of some kind. She says she doesn't remember a lot, and... [align left] She takes another deep breath. This reminds me that I should probably breathe too. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I had to take care of some minor wounds- I know what you're thinking, but they're definitely self-inflicted and they should heal up very soon, so, please don't worry about that. Mentally, she's not... she might be unstable. I invited her for breakfast so she can calm down a little and I know you want answers but... you need to give her some time. Alright? [align left] I'm not even sure what to say to that. At least I know where Holly is now and I have a vague idea about what might've happened but... breakdown? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Ah! I'm sorry, I- You clearly want to see her and I'm rambling, I- did you eat anything at all? You look so pale, and... my, you're *trembling*! Please, come in! [align left] She opens the door again and takes a step back, looking at me like she's scared I'll run away. I hesitate. *All you know about her is a lie.* *She's a hunter.* I don't see a hunter. I see someone who wants to help me. I see someone who took care of my friend. I see someone who's so visibly worried that it practically breaks my heart. What Tara said makes no sense whatsoever. Maybe she lost something in translation or misunderstood what the word meant. Yes. Must've been it. And yet, I don't feel at ease as I walk right into [[Clare's room|Breakfast Club]].

config.header.left: "8 - Breakfast Club" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### She's here. The interior is blindingly white so I have to squint while I'm adjusting to this level of brightness. Still, I can see her so clearly. She stands out — she always stands out because she always needs to wear something pink and this time, it's that muted pink sweater I never liked — one of her favorites. Same one she was wearing yesterday. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly! [align left] Holly looks up from the plate of pancakes, or rather, an absolute mess of bite-sized chunks that probably used to be pancakes at some point, and the world stops at this moment. I'm so used to her looking at me with her big hazel eyes. I have every little color variation in them memorized at this point. So when I see how red they are now, straight up bloodshot, like she cried really hard or didn't sleep at all, it doesn't feel real. It doesn't even feel like she's looking *at me* but at something else behind me, like I don't even exist. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Oh. Tiff. Didn't know... didn't know you'll be there. [align left] Her voice is always so smooth; now, it's raspy and quiet. It's all too obvious that she had to cry or scream or... whatever else could fuck her voice up this badly. I quickly glance at Clare. She gestures towards the small, round table, then moves into the kitchen part of the whole place. I can't deny, I'm hungry, but seeing Holly like this makes my stomach twist to the point where thinking about food in general makes me sick. I sit down anyway. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, I didn't know that either. [align left] Holly sends me a weak smile. I just can't help but notice how weirdly ashy her normally warm, deep brown skin looks, and how a small cut makes it very clear that she must've bitten her lip pretty hard at one point or another — she does that when she's stressed but never to this point. And maybe it's my imagination but even her hair looks different, like it lost volume and all the curls have loosened, and Holly I know would never let that happen. I want to ask her about everything but I can't. It's not because Clare asked me not to but because the question just can't leave me. I'm not ready for the answer. I'm so not ready for the answer. I just watch how Holly sinks the fork into a solid chunk of pancake and I get a better view of her scraped knuckles. It looks unnatural. It doesn't look right on her, if it can even look right on anyone. Honestly, I barely even notice that there's a plate in front of me now. The scent of food is making me feel even sicker than before. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ It's so nice to have your own kitchen sometimes. ~~HOLLY~~ Oh, honey, it really is... but I'd burn White Crow to the ground if I had one. Can't be trusted with that stuff. [align left] Her usual cheery tone is back and the distinct Southern accent is definitely more prominent now. If it wasn't for the fact that her looks are totally ruining the illusion and the hoarseness in her voice is completely unnatural, you'd think that she's totally fine. Maybe it's because she's got company now — she's *thriving* with people around, the more, the better, and she actually gets along with almost everyone here. And honestly, it's incredibly ironic that she's more social than I am, considering that I'm the fucking influencer here, but I think it's because she's *genuinely* happy to be around others... and others are genuinely happy to be around her. Same can't really be said about me. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Tiffany... your food is getting colder. ~~HOLLY~~ Yeah, Tiffy, you spaced out for a moment there. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, uh... I... thought we're... waiting for Clare...? [align left] I say it so awkwardly that it's obvious I didn't think that at all. Clare smiles and dismisses it with a handwave anyway. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh, no, don't worry, I ate already. [align left] I quickly glance at the pancake massacre on Holly's plate. Almost like she's reading my thoughts, she stabs one of the bigger pieces with her fork and raises her brows like she's telling me to do the same with mine. And good fucking God, trust me, if you took one bite of those pancakes, you'd never forget it. It probably sounds like I'm exaggerating but I'm really not. Even now as I'm writing this, a long time after that day, my mouth automatically waters because I remember the perfect sweetness and absolutely godly fluffiness... fuck, I'm hungry now. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ I don't know how I'll be able to go back to the cafeteria breakfasts after *this*. [align left] Clare blushes just a tiny bit. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I wouldn't mind having you both over for breakfast more often... I love to cook for others and I don't get an opportunity to do so these days. If you just give me a call or text me beforehand, you're free to come. [align left] Holly reaches for her phone; when she realizes it's not there, she bows her head a little, like she's ashamed of something. Of course, it's in *my* pocket right now... but maybe it's not the best time to bring it up. It's not like she can do anything with it at the moment anyway. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Yeah, I'll... give you a call. Thanks. [align left] The atmosphere gets rather tense and awkward so we just go back to eating. Clare just looks at us with this strange curiosity, which definitely doesn't help with anything. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh! Tiffany, do you feel better today? [align left] I mean, that's a good question. Physically? The worst I feel is the aftermath of me running like I'm crazy without breakfast or anything. Mentally? No, seeing my friend over there looking all fucked up and not knowing what happened isn't all that great for me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I don't want to kill myself over a headache anymore, I'd say that's an improvement. ~~HOLLY~~ I guess we both *really* went hard last night, didn't we? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah. [align left] She tries so hard to sound unbothered but her eyes are practically begging me to not ask any questions or try to figure out what happened at all. I wonder if Clare can see it too. Before I can even glance at her to find out, Holly clasps her hands so loudly that it makes me jump in my seat. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Wait, it's Saturday morning! Time for the Breakfast Club! ~~CLARE~~ ...Breakfast Club? [align left] Now, that's embarrassing. Remember when I kept saying that we meet up every Saturday morning? That's the Breakfast Club. We started it a long time ago, when we were still a trio — me, Holly, and Audrey. If you wonder why I didn't mention any Audrey before, well, that's because they kicked her out and she had a walk of shame... and those who had walks of shame are meant to be treated as if they're dead the moment they cross the Golden Gates for the last time. All you need to know is that with names like these, we just had to make a *Breakfast at Tiffany's* reference. I mean, come on. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ It's our, uh... fake podcast. ~~HOLLY~~ We recap what we saw at the party, exchange all the tea, go through the most important events of the week... and you know, doing it all for a fake audience... even if we forget they're there... having a little fun with it, it's good for you to be a bit silly from time to time. [align left] Clare's eyes narrow like she's having trouble with understanding the whole concept. The wave of cringe that goes through my body is so violent that it makes me flinch. There's a reason why Breakfast Club was always a me and Holly — or me, Holly, and Audrey — thing, and it's that I could never do this with anybody else. It requires a certain kind of vulnerability I can only show with Holly. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(slowly)` I assume I'm a sort of a... guest star, then? ~~HOLLY~~ Basically, yes. I think it'll be really interesting to hear from you. Right, Tiffy? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(trying not to sound too dead inside)` Yeah. [align left] Clare nods slowly like she's still processing what exactly Holly wants from her. After a short while of considering, she smiles. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I'll be back to you in a moment and we can begin. [align left] She turns around and gets to the kitchen — I still didn't process the fact that they let her have it here. As she turns on the coffee machine, I look at Holly. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ `(whispered)` Why are you looking at me like that? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispered as well)` Breakfast Club is *our* thing. ~~HOLLY~~ Listen, I had a really rough night and I just want to have some fun. And ever since Audrey- ~~TIFFANY~~ Do you *have to*- ~~HOLLY~~ I don't care that we're not supposed to talk about her, Tiffany, she was our *friend*. [align left] I want to tell her something but I'm not really sure what I can say. I know she's right so I can't come up with any counters and luckily, I don't have to. Clare is back with a whole damn tray containing a pot of coffee, three blindingly white cups, and all the traditional coffee add-ins like sugar and such. Does she just have all of this lying around? Do people come to her often enough so she needs to have it all on hand or are we just lucky and she restocked just before we came? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tea would probably be better but... it's morning, I think we all need it. ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, thank you. [align left] Holly straightens up in her chair and clears her throat while Clare pours coffee into the cups. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Gooood morning, Passerine Hills, and welcome back to the Breakfast Club! I'm your beloved host, Holly Marchmont... ~~TIFFANY~~ ...and I'm That Bitch, Tiffany Ragnell. ~~HOLLY~~ And today, we are joined by a guest, our local guardian angel, Clare Dumont! [align left] Clare sighs and hides her face in her hands. No matter how hard she tries to conceal it, I can tell that she's blushing. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Why would you say that...? ~~HOLLY~~ Because that's what you are! All the work you do to keep us all from having to go to the infirmary... and we all know what infirmary people are like, it's like they all attended Emmeline's School of Technicalities and Gotchas. ~~CLARE~~ Emmeline isn't *that* hard to talk to... is she? ~~TIFFANY~~ Not if you're Vi... [align left] I don't intend to talk about everything I went through this morning but if we're meant to exchange information then I just need to mention that little thing I witnessed. That's how Breakfast Club works. I seem to hit a jackpot because Holly smiles and I know this smile well — it's the one she gives me when she knows I'm about to drop an absolute bomb. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You know how Emmeline never refers to people with their first names? [align left] The smile fades and Holly sighs, clearly disappointed. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Honey, I know where it's going and it's old news. It's all because Vi's last name is, like, really long and she can't be bothered. Which... anyone else thinks it's a little... weird? I mean, she's got no problem with calling Kaja by both of her last names and I'd say it's more complicated to say *Dvorak-Bednarczyk* than *Loureiro do Rosarío*. ~~TIFFANY~~ No, no. You don't get it. She didn't call her *Ana Vitória*. She called her *Vi*. [align left] There's no sound except for the loud *clink* as Clare puts down her coffee cup on the matching saucer a little harder than necessary. I have to stop myself from smiling. None of them knew that. It's fresh, scalding hot, third-degree-burn-inducing tea. I'm getting a good grade at information exchange, which is both completely normal and possible to achieve. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ ...no way. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yes way. I heard it myself, literally this morning. ~~HOLLY~~ Oh my God, that's... this *can't* be real. *Emmeline*?! Calling Vi by her *nickname*?! ~~CLARE~~ `(flatly)` Are you really surprised? [align left] We both look at Clare but she doesn't look back at us. I'm sure neither of us ever thought of her as someone who'd interrupt anyone speaking. I expect her to go into full apology mode, all blushy and panicked, but she doesn't. She slowly picks up her cup and takes a sip of her coffee. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(bitterly)` Vi could always have any girl she wanted. *Especially* those that were... difficult to get. ~~HOLLY~~ Right... you know her better than anyone here. [align left] It's pretty common knowledge at this point that Clare and Vi used to be together in high school and that they broke up at some point before coming to Passerine Hills. There were some nasty speculations about Clare being the one to end things because Vi is trans but that got cut short when Vi herself said that wasn't the case. Nobody knows why *exactly* they broke up but everyone knows that things are a little sour between them... and honestly, I get it, since they've been together for literal years by that point. It just has to hurt. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Oh, sorry, we probably shouldn't be talking about all of this then. ~~CLARE~~ No, no, don't worry, it's alright. [align left] She definitely doesn't sound like it's alright. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ I think we should move on. So, let's get the usual stuff out of the way first... [align left] That's the part where all of the normal, boring events get recapped, just in case routine got broken for one reason or another. I mentally check out of the conversation and decide to look around, now that my vision isn't blurry from running. Everything is bright and immaculately clean — about what you'd expect from Clare's place, really. Lots and lots of white and various shades of... white, again. I'm not sure how I feel about it — it's giving vibes of something between one of those minimalistic houses and a clinic of some sort, not to mention that it's probably a nightmare to ensure that it all remains without stains. I don't envy the cleaning team that's assigned to her... or maybe she's cleaning it all herself, since she's already cooking for herself anyway. Who knows, maybe she likes that. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ `(with a sigh)` ...and, of course, Tanaka and Tai were there, doing coke, *as they do*... ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` You'll see it anyway so I might as well tell you... [align left] And naturally, there are some plants around, all in great condition. I don't know what any of these are but it's not hard to tell that they're thriving. Did she request them as a part of her room? Did she bring them from home? Do they mean anything to her or does she just like to have something to take care of? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tai might have to find... another way to, uhm, indulge in his habit, since his nose is, uh... broken. ~~HOLLY~~ ...don't tell me he finally got what he deserves. ~~CLARE~~ If by this you mean that someone punched him then yes, this is exactly what happened. See... [align left] Everything else is hidden behind walls but I can catch just a glimpse of something from behind a half-open door. There's a desk made out of some light colored wood, probably to match literally everything in here. [[Except a bright red stain on its corner.|Breaking Point]]

config.header.left: "9 - Breaking Point" config.header.right: "October 19" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### *She's a hunter*. Suddenly, it gets really hard to breathe. All of my thoughts go to a variety of violent scenarios that just make me want to throw my freshly eaten breakfast up. *Do you remember Reed Verbrannt?* They just disappeared. They just disappeared and nobody ever asked where they went, and for all we know they may be dead, and what if this is what Tara meant? What if it was a warning? What if Clare... I hide my shaking hands under the table and I look at her. She's smiling at Holly and explaining something I can't understand right now because the words just kind of melt together into this mess that doesn't seem to mean anything. Could Clare hurt someone? Could she... And then it hits me how stupid I am. Reed disappeared months ago. If that stain was blood, it would be brown by now, not vividly red. Even if you assume that Clare is, somehow, a ruthless murderer, she wouldn't be stupid enough to just leave evidence laying around. What the fuck am I even thinking about? Did Tara really manage to make me this paranoid in just a couple of words? [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Tiffy, what's going on? You look like you're about to throw up. ~~CLARE~~ Are you *sure* you're alright? [align left] Great, I'm thinking about her potentially killing someone while she's worrying about me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah. Yeah, it's just... I don't have a lot to talk about? Not a lot happened. [align left] Not a lot, if you don't count Holly having some sort of a breakdown and me having this horrifying migraine. You know. Business as usual. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean, the weirdest thing was that I couldn't spot Izzy anywhere. [align left] Holly suddenly straightens up. I immediately look at her face because I know what that means and... yeah, her cheeks gained just a little hint of redness. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...Holly, what's the blush for? [align left] She makes a high pitched noise and buries her face in her hands. I wince when I see her scraped knuckles again — I almost forgot that this whole thing happened at this point. I'm not happy that I got reminded, that's for sure. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Listen, I- it was- it's just one time, okay? Like, it doesn't mean anything, I- ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly, what did you- ~~HOLLY~~ `(weirdly fast)` -like, it was just once and I- it's not like I- like, *they're not a girl*- I mean, they say they kinda are, but it's more complicated than that, but they're not a girl, so it's not like I'm- ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Holly, it's alri- ~~HOLLY~~ -like, fine, *I kissed them*, and I'll admit, it felt *nice*, but it doesn't mean anything and it's not like it makes me- it doesn't mean anything, *right*? [align left] She looks at us desperately, hoping to find any support for her denial. All she finds is Clare's concerned stare and my completely stunned expression. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Listen, this place has the highest percentage of queer people per square mile in the country, nobody except Brett fucking Hawthorne cares about who you kiss. Which- girl, seriously? Out of everyone- *Izzy*? Izzy Terrell?! ~~HOLLY~~ I went to grab a drink, they were there, and... we talked a little and- they wanted to show me this one room in the Terrell Hall- `(louder)` Tiffy, what's your issue with them? ~~TIFFANY~~ I don't have any issues with them, I'm just saying that there are much better candidates for casual kissing. ~~HOLLY~~ For fuck's sake, can you support me for once? One fucking time, is this too much to ask for? [align left] What Holly just said hits me so hard that I need a moment to process. She doesn't swear. She hates doing that and she takes every opportunity to make it clear. And sure, Clare is there, but she's in the background. All I can see is Holly. Holly with her red eyes and barely contained tears. Holly with her quivering lip. Holly clenching her fists, making her scraped knuckles even more prominent. Holly at her breaking point. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Holly, I'm- [align left] She raises her shaking hand to stop me. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Sorry. Yes, you're always sorry- you *say* you're sorry all the time. You said you're sorry when they kicked Audrey out and I couldn't deal with it, and you said you're sorry when we had that argument last month, and you said you're sorry that you *don't seem to care*, and you always say that! And you never *mean it* because you never *do anything* to fix things. [align left] That's when something just snaps in me too. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Right, I really don't give a fuck about you, that's why I spent this *entire morning* searching for you because- ~~HOLLY~~ Because you need me! You don't have anyone else to talk to! [align left] Have you ever heard something that just felt like a slap? Something that just made you feel that burning pain in your cheek, something that made you flinch as if you were hit for real? That's what this sentence was to me and it hurt me so much because it was true. If I wanted anyone to talk to — really *talk to*, none of that small talk bullshit — I only had Holly here. Nobody else. For a second, I just want to hurt her back. If I wanted to, I could deliver an insult so devastating that she'd start reevaluating her life instantly... but I don't want to. Her eyes are still red and her hands are still injured, and even in anger, she still looks like she's about to fall apart. I could do this if it was literally anyone else but I just can't do this to her. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Alright, things are getting a little- ~~HOLLY~~ Clare, honey, I think you helped me out enough for the day. Thank you so much... but I think I need to go. ~~TIFFANY~~ You won't even hear me out? ~~HOLLY~~ I've been listening to you all the time. You haven't *listened* to me once. So, guess. [align left] She stands up and just by looking at her, I know that her mind is already made. The tiny bits of anger that I still had disappear so fast and it's all panic from now on, that type of panic that hits you fast and hard when you realize that you fucked up *badly*. It's so obvious now that this isn't just another argument that I'll be able to fix in a short while and this realization feels like being thrown right into cold, deep water while not knowing how to swim — you know, you're alert and really aware that you're screwed but there's not much you can do except for trying to not die. So, to continue the metaphor, I begin screaming for help — which is to say, I look at Clare and hope she'll help me out because I just know I'm in a lost position here. But she doesn't. She just sighs. Clare Dumont, for the first time in her life (to my knowledge), refuses to help. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Remember to check up with the infirmary and rest a lot, alright? ~~HOLLY~~ Will do. [align left] Panic. Panic, panic, panic. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(in the most pathetic tone you can imagine)` You can't just leave like that. You can't do this to me. [align left] And for a second, just a split second, Holly's expression gets softer. She's *hesitating*. But in the end, she turns around and walks straight to the door. It doesn't feel real. I can't move. I just stare at her as she leaves and I pray to whatever god is listening that this is all a dream. It has to be, right? I'll wake up in a cold sweat from this nightmare and I'll check my phone, and it'll be the morning of October 19th again, and Holly will be blowing up my notifications with *omg Tiffy where are you??? Breakfast Club needs you!!!* messages, and I'll hang out with her, and I'll listen to her, and I'll keep my fucking mouth shut for once. I'm stuck to my seat and I'm staring at the door, as if I'm waiting for Holly to come back and tell me it was all a fucked up joke or something, or that she changed her mind. Obviously, this doesn't happen. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(gently)` Tiffany... she had a rough night. I'm sure she didn't mean any of it. Just give her some time to calm down. [align left] I really wish I could tell you what happens next in detail, just so you could have an idea of how bad things were, but I just... black out at that moment. It doesn't feel fair that I did all of this for Holly and still got told that I don't care about her. It doesn't feel right that this whole situation happened in front of someone who shouldn't be a witness of it. It's not fair that Holly didn't even give me a chance, it's unfair that we didn't get to talk it out in peace, it's unfair, it's unfair, it's unfair. I try to calm down but I just can't. I'm tired, I'm sad, my best friend — well, only real friend here — is gone. So all I remember from this moment is that I'm crying because I no longer care about what it looks like. I no longer care about anything, actually. I'm a kid sobbing because the other kid took her toys and left, and it's unfair. Unfair, unfair, unfair. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tiffany... [align left] I snap back to reality when I feel Clare's arms around me. I don't know when she got close enough to do this but I'm not complaining. She's soft, she's warm, she's all I need right now: a small bit of comfort. I can't explain why but it feels safe. It feels right. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(whispered)` I'm here for you. [align left] She holds me until tears finally run out. I don't know why but all of this makes me think of the dream I had — you know, the one with the angel wrapping her wings around me and all — and I pull away, just because things suddenly became a little too awkward for my taste. Sure, it's just a dream, it doesn't mean anything, but... it still feels weird. Like I somehow... predicted this. Not to mention the fact that I just cried in Clare's arms and I made myself so *vulnerable* and so *physical* with her twice in the span of less than a day, and it makes me a little sick. I'm not meant to be like this, not with people I don't really know that well. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, uh. Thanks. [align left] I sound like I've never talked before in my entire life. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Don't mention it. Go if you need to go, rest, and... and if you need me, you can just call me. I promise I'll come. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah. Yeah... thanks. [align left] She's looking at me like she expects me to say something else but I have no idea what I could even add. I'm tired and I'm on autopilot as I'm trying to process everything. It's a blur. One second I'm walking out of Clare's room and Mark the Receptionist yells *have a nice day, Miss Ragnell!*, and I want to turn around and tell him to shove that nice day up his ass because there's no way that this day will be anything but awful from this point on. Before I know it, I'm outside, and there are so many people walking around with their friends, chatting and laughing, and I want the buildings around us to collapse and kill us all. That'd be less painful. That'd be a guarantee that I'll never fuck anything up ever again. And if you're anything like me, you're thinking *wow, that's all bullshit. That's just sudden drama for the sake of it. Why would Holly do this?* I need to tell you something: I lied to you. Well, maybe not lied — *manipulated* would be a better word. I didn't tell you anything about what was going on before the party. I didn't tell you that I was, in fact, a shitty friend, and Holly was completely right. You didn't get to read about all the arguments we've had or all the times during which I completely failed to hear my alleged bestie out. I kept you in the dark on purpose because you'd see me in a way worse light and because I wanted you to feel just how I felt back then: completely clueless about where all of this anger came from. 'Cause, you know, I had the emotional capacity of an empty conditioner bottle at that moment. Normally I wouldn't even write this disclaimer. It's kinda tacky to suddenly go meta like this and I guess you're not stupid so I don't have to tell you what to feel but... well, fuck, I've got a guilty conscience, I'd never stop feeling bad about it if I didn't come clean. So, don't judge Holly too harshly, alright? And I'm sorry for the tangent, let me come back on track. Now, roll the footage of me rotting in my bed and staring at the ceiling while trying to process what just went down. Hours pass but I can only tell that it's the case by staring out of the window and by occasionally checking my phone, waiting for a message from Holly before realizing that her phone is now on my desk, completely screwed up, so it's not like she could do that even if she wanted to. I should be hungry but I'm not and I should probably feel something but I just can't. All I can think about is that I don't understand what the fuck happened at Clare's. Didn't I do everything right? I went out there to find her, I even went to Emmeline and I was ready to make a deal, and she's got the audacity to tell me that I don't care? ...well, she said I don't *seem* to care and it's not like I made a *Get Ready with Me to Find My Bestie* vlog documenting the entire thing. She doesn't know what happened between Terrell Hall and Lyrebird. And it's been a long time, so maybe she's calmed down already and we'll be able to talk all about it. Maybe once I'll explain it all to her, she'll understand. Yeah. Yeah, that must be it. And even if she doesn't want to talk to me, I still need to tell her that Izzy has something for her, since I forgot about that. It takes me way too long to gather all of my strength but I finally stand up. The world gets kinda blurry and a dull pain overtakes my head for a moment. That's an inevitable thing when your only meal was a protein bar and some pancakes, I guess. Hoping that it all doesn't mean I'm going to get struck by migraine again, I leave my room and immediately get hit with the bright light of the White Crow corridor. Doesn't matter if I can see or not, though, since I could get to Holly's room without looking. Everything is so quiet that I can only hear my own stupidly loud heartbeat and footsteps. There's no guarantee that Holly even is in her room now — even if she is, there's an even smaller chance that she'll open the door for me. But I have to try, right? I just have to try. The door is right in front of me. I hesitate a little but finally, I knock and I wait. And I wait. And I wait. And- you get the idea. At this point, I'm just tired. Who knows, maybe she's in infirmary, maybe she's asleep, maybe she's with someone better than me. I'm about to turn around and leave but the door finally opens just a little bit. Holly's here, looking a bit better than she did in the morning; there's this look of absolute embarrassment on her face that lasts for a split second until she realizes that it's me she's about to talk to. After that hits her, she just looks... unimpressed, to say the least. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ *Tiffy, I don't want to talk*. ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, fine, you don't need to, but can you at least *listen*? Please? [align left] Holly looks at me blankly. Through the small gap, I can see that her room is slightly less messy now... but the cleaning team definitely wasn't there. At least Dolly doesn't seem to be on the floor anymore. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ I really think we need a break from each other. Just for a while. ~~TIFFANY~~ You know this is not what I- ~~HOLLY~~ Yes, this is not what *you*- that's the whole thing. You want to talk? Fine, I'll talk. You're not treating me like a friend, you're treating me like a- a therapist and secretary. Or, like, one of those tiny dogs that you put in a designer handbag and carry 'round because you need company and no other living thing will give it to you. And that really messes me up, Tiffany. That really messes me up. [align left] She takes a deep shaky breath. I want to say something but I don't know what. This definitely wasn't a plan that I properly thought through. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ `(quietly)` I just need some time. I need to know who I am without you and- and I think you need to know who you are without me. Can you give me... can you give me a week? Just a week. That's all I'm asking for. ~~TIFFANY~~ > [[Yeah, no. We need to talk now.]] > [[...can you at least tell me what happened to you?]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- I don't know what's wrong with her but you can't refer to her by her name — not when she's around, at least. Maybe she really is one of those people whose last name carries some sort of a massive legacy and it's some weird way to make it known... but nobody really knows where she comes from or what her family does, so it makes absolutely no sense. Unless they're some sort of old money that's fallen from grace and got condemned to the worst fate imaginable: being irrelevant. Sometimes people will go insane once they realize they no longer have the position they used to have and will cling to anything that reminds them of what being on top felt like. If that's the case, then it's actually kinda pathetic... even if I can understand it. {embed passage:'Deal cont.'}

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- Holly straightens up a little — she does that when she's embarrassed sometimes, but this time, it's clearly just anger. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ What part of *I don't want to talk* and *please can we take a break from each other* you don't understand? [align left] Her hands curl into fists. I cringe once when I see her scraped knuckles and then I cringe again when I imagine the pain that must come with the gesture. Instead of saying anything, she just gives me an angry look that actually makes me slightly scared. Holly's not meant to be like that. Holly's not... [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ If you don't respect my *no* then you don't deserve my *yes*. Leave. ~~TIFFANY~~ Why don't you want to- [align left] She tries to close the door but I force it open again. This is, of course, horrible behavior, but at this moment, I don't really care. I'm angry and I'm scared, and I just know that once the door closes, she's gone, and I can't afford that. When she looks at me now, she's not mad anymore. She's disappointed and *scared*, eyes wide as she tries to close the door again and isn't able to. And it's that fear that makes me realize what I'm doing. I'm hurting her because I just don't want to be alone. That's just fucked up. That's so, so fucked up. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` ...sorry, it's just... Izzy's got something for you. ~~HOLLY~~ `(flatly)` *I know.* {embed passage: 'Crying in bed'}

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" hollyunlock: true -- Holly straightens up a little — she always does that when she feels embarrassed. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ ...I'll tell you. Just not now, okay? I don't... [align left] She pulls the sleeves of her sweater down, trying to hide her hands so that I can't see the horrible state of her knuckles. I'd love to feel thankful for that but imagining the fibers brushing against raw skin makes me cringe. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ I promise, okay? I- ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, no, I... I get it. Just... [align left] My throat tightens. I don't even feel like I want to be right or like I need to prove something to her anymore. I just want her to be alright and I'm clearly not making her feel any better. The best thing is to walk away but I fear that she'll just leave forever if I let her go now. She asks for a week but what if this is the best week of her life? What if I was only dragging her down since August? What if... ...maybe it's time to not make things about me for once. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` ...just take care of yourself. Ah, and... and Izzy's got something for you. I forgot to tell you. [align left] She blinks just a bit too fast for it to be normal. The smile that she gives me doesn't look happy, rather... bittersweet. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ Thanks, Tiffy. I'll see you at the Breakfast Club. {embed passage: 'Crying in bed'}

And the door closes just like that. I'm holding up pretty well on my way back to my room but the moment I'm inside and alone, I break down for the second time today. There's nothing left to do but to [[cry yourself to sleep|Just a Bite]] sometimes, I guess.

config.header.left: "10 - Just a Bite" config.header.right: " " config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### The angel is here again. She's hovering right in front of me and all I know is the wild sense of déjà vu. I'm laying in tall grass and I know that it's meant to be green but the colors seem so pale right now, completely swallowed by all the *light* that the angel emits. Or maybe she *is* the light. I don't really know how that works. She smiles — at least I *feel* that she does, since I can't really see her face — and strokes my cheek. I flinch because I expect her touch to be burning hot but it's... just right. It's just the right amount of softness. Just the right amount of affection. I lean into it, even though alarm bells are ringing in my head and warning me not to. [align center] ~~ANGEL~~ ...you must feel so lonely now. ~~TIFFANY~~ Maybe. ~~ANGEL~~ But you're never alone, Tiffany. I'm always with you. ~~TIFFANY~~ Are you? Doesn't really feel like it these days. [align left] She folds her wings and falls on the ground in front of me. For a while, she searches for something in the tall grass, then takes out an apple from it, and God, it's a *perfect* apple. Gorgeously dark red, turning almost purple in some places; that kind that is just the right amount of sweet and crunchy. My mouth waters immediately. I need it. [align center] ~~ANGEL~~ Eat it. It will open your eyes and you'll know me. You'll know everything. [align left] And it's so obvious to me now that I'm hungry and that I need it more than I ever needed anything in my entire life. I reach out and take the apple from her hand, and once I bite, I feel... everything. I can't explain it. I just feel so much at the same time that I don't think there are even words for this. After that, everything [[fades to black|Alone]] again.

config.header.left: "Outro" config.header.right: " " config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- *[This feels like a good place to stop reading. There are more pages but it's getting late and you still have to find the thing you were looking for in the first place. You take the notebook with you, just in case, and so it ends.]* *[For now.]*

config.header.left: "11 - Alone" config.header.right: "October 20" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- ### As you might expect, the next morning sucks. I try to go through the typical morning routine but nothing feels normal because nothing *is* normal. Everything in the cafeteria tastes like soggy cardboard with a side of self-loathing (not because it's actually bad, of course, it's just my mood stripping the taste away) and I don't even take an apple for later like I usually do because something about that stupid dream I've had makes me shiver. And it's so obvious that Holly's presence was like air: easy to overlook until it's gone and you start to suffocate. I took her constant talking for granted and now, the silence hit me. *Hard*. All quiet on my way out of White Crow, all quiet over breakfast, all quiet on my way back. No notifications from her, so, no notifications that I actually might care about. I'd try to keep myself busy with assignments (I mean, it's still an *academy*) and all the business stuff I have to clear but I already took care of everything I had for the week. I keep thinking that I should just tell Holly that I'm bored to death and we should meet up, which obviously isn't an option right now. I just can't go through this day alone. When I check my phone again, I go straight to contacts and I don't hesitate before tapping the right entry on the list to call my dad. I know, I know. I'm an adult. I earn my own money. I'm this independent, strong woman, at least on the internet. That's all cool and great but if there's one person that I can always count on, it's my dad, and it's always been this way. Shame all the people who say I'm the product of "fatherless upbringing" can't get that memo. It never takes him long to pick up... unless he's asleep because in this case, not even an earthquake would wake him up. Ask me how I know. Or don't, you're probably smart enough to figure it out. [align center] ~~DAD~~ `(sleepily)` Tiffy-Taff? [align left] It's a stupid childhood nickname. I don't even remember where it came from. At this point, I accepted that he's probably never going to stop calling me that... and I won't lie, I kinda don't want him to stop. It's a tiny little piece of slightly cringy softness that I definitely need right now. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Hi. Didn't sleep well? [align left] He makes that weird noise — something between a grunt and a whine, I don't know how else to describe it — which usually means he's stretching. [align center] ~~DAD~~ Just woke up. Tadeo's birthday party was yesterday. [align left] Sending your dad into early retirement means that he's got all the time in the world to construct a squad of middle aged guys that he's going to hang out with. I never met any of them but I know everything about them because, naturally, I'm getting regular updates. Tadeo was the oldest in the team but he was also the guy who didn't play around when it came to events. My poor, poor dad probably partied just a little bit too hard last night. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You remembered to drink water, right? ~~DAD~~ ...what if I didn't? ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God- ~~DAD~~ Just kidding. Your old man's dumb but not *that* dumb. [align left] He laughs as he always does, loudly and unapologetically. It made me cringe hard in the past but now, God, now it's like a reminder that things were good in my life once and that maybe they can be good now as well. Even though I don't really feel like it, I smile. [align center] ~~DAD~~ Speaking about me not being that dumb, I know you called because you're sad, so... what's up with that? Wanna talk? [align left] I have no idea how he can tell. It's probably something that I can't really control in my voice or he just has a supernatural ability to sense my emotions through the phone; could be both, really. I stand up because I know I'll have the need to pace around the room to get my anxiety under control. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ So... remember Holly? ~~DAD~~ Alice Marchmont's daughter, right? God, *On the Road* is such a good album, been listening to it lately, what a small world... but yes, Holly, what about her? Something happened? [align left] And just like that, my throat tightens so much that it almost hurts. I don't want to say it out loud. I don't want to admit that I fucked up but I know dad will stay quiet on the other end of the line until I tell him something... and I can't lie to him, he'll just know and press further. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` We're... not really on speaking terms right now. [align left] Nobody can catch you lying if you only tell the truth. The silence on the other side of the line tells me that I'm not fooling anyone, though. [align center] ~~DAD~~ Uh-oh, Tiffy-Taff, are we doing damage control right now? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(trying and failing to sound normal)` Why would I- ~~DAD~~ So we *are*. [align left] Well, I *tried*. I stop the anxiety-fuelled pacing and take a deep breath. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, fine, it was my fault. I'll figure it all out, just... I just wanted to call you because I'm a bit lost right now. [align left] Dad sighs in the same way he always did when I was a kid and admitted to doing something wrong: loudly, like he's tired, but without any kind of disappointment or judgment. That's why I was never scared to come to him whenever I needed him. [align center] ~~DAD~~ `(softly)` Alright. Did you do everything you needed to do this week? ~~TIFFANY~~ Everything. ~~DAD~~ So it's time to relax now. Clear your mind with a good ol' walk maybe... there are places you can go, right? [align left] I don't need him to tell me what to do but I don't want to interrupt him so I sit down on my bed and listen while staring at the door. Do I feel like leaving anywhere today? Not really. Should I leave anyway? Yeah, probably. [align center] ~~DAD~~ You said you have a nice garden over there, that might help... or the library? You used to love reading... and hate giving the books back... God, the amount of fines we had to pay- ~~TIFFANY~~ That was ten years ago! I said I'm sorry and- and they don't even collect fines here. ~~DAD~~ `(laughing)` I know, I know. Well, what else... you can just go and figure things out outside, check what fate brings your way. I don't know, you've got a whole lot of options, you're too young to just sit around. [align left] Of course, he's right. He rarely isn't. I try to come up with an answer but the ring of a doorbell in the background interrupts me. [align center] ~~DAD~~ My package's here- call me later if you need me, alright? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...alright. ~~DAD~~ Love you, Tiffy-Taff. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...love you too. [align left] I feel just a little bit better but I still flop onto my bed as the call ends, as if that tiny amount of energy I had today disappeared completely. If I stay here, I probably won't move for hours, so it'd be good to decide what my plans are now and act fast. [if hollyunlock] > [[...or I can spend this time on thinking how to fix things with Holly.]] [cont] > [[Some library time might be good for me.]] > [[The garden should be nice and quiet...]] > [[Let's just figure out what to do outside.]] > [[Wait, didn't Clare leave me her number?]]

config.header.left: "11 - A Little Chat" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" emviunlock: true emvi11: true -- ### Maybe I miss libraries a little. And it's fall, isn't it? It's literally the perfect time to sit down and read. I can go and find myself a good book, whatever that means in a place like this, then go straight to the café for a nice warm cup of coffee. That's a neat, soft vision, and it's exactly what I need right now. Still, I can't move from my bed. There's that thought at the back of my head — a really, really stupid thought that this is all nothing but a nostalgia chase, that I'm trying to reconnect with a vibe that is no longer mine to connect with. I mean... do I *look* like a reader? Not anymore, that's for sure, and when was the last time I read anything, anyway? Will it seem too weird? Too out of character? Performative? It's definitely not a great time for starting things, not after the whole friendship break thing we've got with Holly, and by this point in time everyone has to know what happened because everyone always knows my every move and they'll know it's all to kill time and I can already imagine the posts and- Good fucking God, I'm paranoid. It's okay. It's Passerine Hills. No posts will be made. I can get all my things and go to the library, it's totally fine, nobody's watching me at all times. I keep repeating that in my head as I get ready and by the time I leave White Crow, the thought's neatly internalized and I can go on about my day. It's not *cold* but I'm used to Californian temperatures at home and this definitely isn't it. I can't even tell you why but I just stop and stare at all the buildings around me. I take in all the decorative columns, arches above entrances, spotless white walls, and I realize how disconnected I feel. It's been practically two months here and I still don't know if I like it here or not, and this thought spirals and spirals until it hits me that I haven't felt connected to any place at all in a long while, not since I left my home ages ago, and that is a whole another rabbit hole that I can't help but fall into. I can almost feel the presence of my mother behind me, just like on the day we met last, and I swear I would be able to see her if I turned around now. She'd look just like me and nothing like me at all. She'd be there with that disappointed look in her green eyes and a scowl that makes the sun damage on her face even more prominent. *That's what you chose*, she'd say. *Don't say I didn't warn you*. Maybe I am just chasing what I can no longer have and maybe going to the library is just an attempt to feel like I did back then, and- [align center] ~~???~~ Hey? [align left] I freeze. Someone *is* behind me. My heart speeds up as the irrational thought of me manifesting my mother's presence here, somehow, enters my mind. She's not here when I turn around, obviously. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(with concern)` You really spaced out. [align left] It's just Vi. She's wearing a gorgeous coat that looks a little too thick and heavy for this weather but I get it. This shade of green really works well with her skin tone and if she dressed like that just to look good, that's so incredibly valid. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...oh, yeah. Just. Just thinking. [align left] I sound like I forgot how to speak to another human being. Vi just nods and apparently doesn't decide to press further. She takes a step closer and looks in the same direction I was just staring at, squinting like she's trying to figure something out. [align center] ~~VI~~ About architecture? I'm still trying to figure out if it's Beaux-Arts or not. [align left] She turns her head to look at me again and I can't decipher her expression at all. It's something between pity and a mild surprise, and I have no idea why she would even react this way. [align center] ~~VI~~ If you're done thinking, do you want to go somewhere? [align left] Okay, so, that's definitely an invitation, right? My mind glitches a little because I can't come up with even one reason why until I remember that Vi simply talks to a lot of people and there's quite a chance that she knows about what happened to me and Holly. Maybe Izzy told her, I don't know, not like it matters. She's either gonna try to get the other side of the story from me or she just pities me for being a lonely loser... and both are bad. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Thanks... but I was just heading to the café, actually. ~~VI~~ Hey, guess who else was on her way there. You get one try. [align left] Guess she's really determined, regardless of what's her intention. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...you? ~~VI~~ `(with a smile)` Smart girl! [align left] This is extremely embarrassing but those two words are enough to make me blush and I can't even begin to explain why. Vi gets mildly red as well as her smile fades in a comically slow way. She tucks some stray hair behind her ear and sends me an apologetic grin, and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't kinda cute. [align center] ~~VI~~ Uh, sorry. Anyway. We can walk there together. If you want. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...do *you* want me to go with you? ~~VI~~ `(without hesitation)` Yes. [align left] I give her my best *okay, I guess* shrug and she makes a broad *follow me* gesture, not giving me enough time to react before she starts marching in the direction of the library. I swear to God, she wasn't that fast yesterday... or maybe she was and I was just full of adrenaline which made me able to keep up with her. I'm almost jogging now; when Vi sees it, she slows down, thank God, and gives me another *I'm sorry* smile before she looks away again. She keeps her head high in a way that gives her an aura of confidence I've never seen in anyone before. I can't even begin to explain it to you but it's so, so clear that this is authentic and she's *really* just that proud of who she is. And envy is such a fucked up thing because for just a split second, before I can stop myself, I wish for her to trip and fall face down onto the sidewalk so that maybe that expression disappears from her face. I know it's wrong — she helped me out yesterday, she let me tag along now, and she's never been a bitch to me or anything, so it's not like she deserves it. Just an intrusive thought, messed up, but not entirely my fault. Vi glances at me. There's no way that she knows what I just thought about but I wonder what would happen if she did. [align center] ~~VI~~ Ever been to the chapel? [align left] Not what I ever expected to hear but okay. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...there's a chapel? ~~VI~~ Outside the gates. You get that entire guard entourage when you go there. Nice place, really quiet — good if you need to think about something... or pray, if you're into that. [align left] The library is right in front of us now. It's so strange, now that I think about it. It's all classic trademark Passerine Hills white walls and columns for the old part against all that oxidized metal and glass panes for the new part, and I don't know how I feel about this combination. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ And, uh, you're into that? ~~VI~~ `(without hesitation)` Mhm. [align left] She goes back to her faster walking speed, all to get the library door open for me. Chivalry really isn't dead, it just belongs to women now, I guess. I throw Vi a quick "thanks" and take a moment to appreciate the faint scent of coffee coming from the café and the seemingly endless rows of shelves that I can already see near the entrance to the proper part of the library. Yeah, it's... peaceful. Soothing. It was a good idea to come here. [align center] ~~VI~~ Kinda packed... you want to get a table together? [align left] There is quite a lot of people here — not loud, thank God, but there's enough of them to take almost every free space. I quickly analyze the situation and realize that there's really only one table that's still not taken. To be honest with you, I could use a latte before I get anything to read. It'd be a really bitch move to take that place for myself, too. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... seems like the only option. ~~VI~~ Got it. [align left] She goes through the sea of tables and I, obviously, follow. Once we're in our corner, she takes off her coat and throws it on her seat. The outfit she's wearing underneath looks like a casual uniform for some sort of sport: green (obviously) varsity jacket with white sleeves and skirt (guess the color). [align center] ~~VI~~ What do I get you? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...get me? ~~VI~~ A drink. What do you want me to get you? [align left] I expect her to be joking for some reason but she's clearly not. She's got this smile on her face that's so friendly it seems to soften some of her more sharper features. Even that nasty scar that cuts through her right eyebrow looks a little more tame than usual. Normally I'd probably just tell her that I'll get something for myself but... I don't know, someone has to keep this space occupied so it doesn't get stolen from us, right? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...just a latte? [align left] She nods. [align center] ~~VI~~ Got it. Watch my coat. I'll be right back. [align left] I watch as she smoothly walks through this entire labyrinth of heavy wooden tables and accompanying chairs. She's got her last name — Loureiro do Rosário — and the number 13 sewn onto the back of her jacket; there's a small patch where I assume the first letter of her deadname used to be. Some people turn their heads as she passes, which isn't surprising at all, considering how well-liked she is. Her skirt twirls in the most satisfying way on the last sharp turn before the counter, which she leans on with completely natural nonchalance. The barista laughs with her as they chat while he makes coffee. Suddenly, I understand why Clare said Vi could have any girl she wanted on a completely different level. Even in this filled café, she's the only person that just naturally attracts your attention. I don't even know what I feel when she makes her way back to me. Classic dilemma of *do I want to be with her or do I want to be her?*, I guess. She had to insist on taking our coffee to our table herself, which is unusual but okay, because she puts a tray down on the table. Three drinks — my latte and two black coffees- Wait. *Three*? Before I can ask about it, I hear a loud sigh. Someone practically throws themself onto the seat next to Vi, though not before removing the coat from it. Their briefcase hits the ground so hard that it's a miracle the impact doesn't send the contents flying. Wait wait wait, God, *no*- [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ She didn't announce it! Vi, dearest, I'm so tired of this clownery, I will- [align left] Emmeline pauses as soon as she sees me. Her face gets so pale her white eyebrow seems to disappear. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ And what does *that* mean? [align left] Vi gives her an awkward smile. She flips her hair from her left shoulder to her right shoulder, then pushes past her to sit down. The whole situation doesn't seem to bother her too deeply. [align center] ~~VI~~ I just thought I'll invite Tiffany to hang out. ~~EMMELINE~~ Was I supposed to learn about it at any point in time? ~~TIFFANY~~ Hey, just so we're clear, I didn't know either. ~~VI~~ I'm sorry, okay? I just wanted to talk to you two and- [align left] Emmeline interrupts her with a loud, heavy sigh. She takes her glasses off and pinches the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut like she's got the world's worst migraine. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ I'll tolerate it. Mostly because I need to talk to you *both* as well. [align left] It's like someone started projecting white noise straight into my brain. It was a bad idea to come here, it was one of the worst ideas I've had this week, actually, and there's been a bit of those. Vi shoots me the most panicked look I've ever seen from her and it does absolutely fuck all to calm me down. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(unsurely)` Both...? [align left] Emmeline readjusts her tie — it's gray, probably the most exciting part of her outfit since she always wears the same navy blue suit — and clears her throat. Yeah, I can already tell we're dead. It was nice to be here while I could. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(angrily)` You *both* are complete and utter imbeciles who are incapable of doing such a small thing as remembering that, when handling *potential evidence*, you absolutely *cannot* touch it with bare hands because this is one damn way to get yourself falsely accused and another sure way to help the actual perpetrator get away with what they've done due to the evidence being clearly tampered with. You are both *extremely lucky* that Marchmont ended up being fine and relatively unharmed because you both would be going through thirteen layers of interrogation hell if she wasn't and it would be far less pleasant than the tirade I'm serving you right now, and if that doesn't speak to you, perhaps the knowledge that you could've potentially let someone who hurt her get away will. Do you understand or do I need to deliver this to you in writing? [align left] We just nod. Emmeline's expression doesn't even shift. If it wasn't for her cheeks getting a little redder, you would never be able to tell that she's angry just by looking at her, and there's something about it that gives me absolutely brutal goosebumps. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(bitterly)` This is all, of course, only true under the assumption that there is justice in this country. ~~VI~~ Em- ~~EMMELINE~~ *Loureiro do Rosário*, respectfully, stay quiet on this one matter, won't you? [align left] Vi looks like a traumatized dog who's been shouted at and it's actually kinda heartbreaking. She takes her cup without a word and I do the same, trying to focus on the smell of my latte to comfort myself. Of course, Emmeline is right to some degree and I probably shouldn't have Holly's broken phone in the first place — God, I need to give it back to her somehow — but it's not like people tend to assume the worst all the time, right? Especially not people like Vi, known for being very much oriented for best vibes possible. My focus drifts to the scar on Emmeline's left cheek and I get a little lightheaded once I start to think that maybe she's so mad about it all because *she* didn't get justice for... whatever the fuck caused *this*. Vi has to notice that because she gives me a smile that actually makes me feel somewhat better. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Ragnell, I thought you'll be more talkative. [align left] Emmeline's staring at me and weirdly enough, she seems more curious than mad now. I think it's the first time I can properly see her eyes and I quickly realize that I have absolutely no idea what color they are. It's something that's neither blue nor green, but also both at the same time, somehow. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I don't really feel like it. ~~VI~~ Of course you don't, it's all about the sun! [align left] She points up as if that makes her point any clearer. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ The... sun? ~~VI~~ There isn't enough of it! It's dark and cold, and it's making people depressed — especially if they're used to more sunlight, like me and Tiff, right? [align left] I'm sure she knows damn well that it's not just the change of seasons with me but I'd be stupid to not go along with it. The last thing I need is Emmeline knowing that my mental state is in a ditch. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean, yeah, it's not California, that's for sure. Hey, isn't it literally summer in Brazil right now? ~~VI~~ Spring, yeah. Definitely warmer and brighter down there. [align left] She looks up at the ceiling and sighs dreamily. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Can't wait to come back home for the winter break? ~~VI~~ I'm going back for New Year's. When it comes to Christmas, I'm spending it with Em- [align left] Her eyes go wide and the sentence stays unfinished. Emmeline has a complete poker face on but I could see that brief eyelid twitch, just a tiny bit. That was a piece of information that wasn't supposed to get out. Vi takes her cup and tries to drink the awkwardness of the moment down but let's be real, it's all out now and it can't really be put back in. A part of me, that one that's still a somewhat decent human, wants to change the topic to make things easier for Vi. The other part, however, is a petty bitch who remembers how smug Emmeline was when I needed help with Holly's case. I put on my softest, warmest smile. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ [[Oh, *Odenkirk*, that's, like, sooo kind of you!|EmVi11b]]

config.header.left: "11 - Random Encounter" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" izzycheck: true _honorific2: random.d6 -- ### Do I know what to do now? No. But I also know that staying here in my room alone doing nothing won't do me anything good.Turning into a bedrotting disaster wasn't a part of my plans when I first came here and it isn't about to become a part of my plans now. And who knows, maybe I'll do well in the universe's giant game of chance and accidentally come across something I haven't seen before? Or maybe I'll find someone else in a similar situation and we'll just cling to each other for the rest of our time here, you know, just to feel something. Even if I don't end up meeting another person, maybe I'll learn how to value myself as my own friend... or something like that. The issue is that my bed *really* doesn't want me to go anywhere. The moment I decide to leave, it becomes more comfortable than it ever was, to the point where I almost reconsider my plans. Almost. Dad definitely didn't raise a quitter. I indulge in mild scrolling through social media for a while (from a fake account, of course, just so I don't accidentally like something I shouldn't on main) before I get up and get out. It's cold, don't get me wrong, but it's not tragic. I walk, and I walk, and I walk, passing all of the buildings which look fairly the same with their blindingly white walls that must take ages to clean, columns that are there only to create vibes, and arched windows. They seem like they are made to be stared out of in a very specific way, like in some kind of old romance book where the main heroine has to look outside and sigh with yearning for her beloved, who's probably in a completely different social class, and therefore, their love is forbidden, or whatever. To be fair, this is probably still happening for those Lyrebird guys who come from families with wealth that makes my head spin if I think about it for more than five seconds. I know that it's strange coming from someone who's rich herself but I wasn't born into it and I'm pretty sure that this lifestyle alters your brain chemistry in unimaginable ways when you're in it since day one. You live in a completely different world with a different set of rules, and who knows, one of them might just be "you can't date anyone outside of your own tax evasion bracket". People keep saying that Lyrebird-Sparrow relationships are cursed because they are always failing but it's just assigning supernatural bullshit to a completely mundane thing. And speaking of supernatural bullshit, I can tell that something is watching me. It's like a sixth sense at this point, always manifesting itself as this weird tingly tension at the back of my head... but when I look around, there's nobody here. I only see it when I lift my head and focus on the window of the building in front of me. I can't see its face — the sunlight hits the glass at just the right angle to hide it — but its entire silhouette is pure white, like it's shining. I blink. It's no longer there, almost as if it just disappeared into thin air, and on a logical level, I know it was probably just a regular person that walked away, but... I don't know. It didn't *feel* normal. I look down again, just to see where I got myself. The infirmary. I sigh with relief when it hits me that it had to be a nurse or something. Before I can move on, the door opens and a rather short person dressed in a muted red cloak practically runs out of it, then stops as they see me. Their face is completely hidden behind a black mask — one of those that look positively postapocalyptic with those jutting out filters — and a pair of absolutely massive goggles with dark blue lenses. The hood on their head would make it harder to identify them... if it wasn't for the electric blue hair that still can be seen from underneath it. Izzy slowly waves at me. I wave back at them and my brain registers it as cringe for no reason whatsoever, which means that I instantly want the earth to swallow me whole. As I try to not overthink it, Izzy practically runs towards me, trying their best to not trip over their oversized cloak. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(slightly muffled behind the mask)` Hi girl! Going to infirmary? They're in a TERRIBLE mood, so, if you're not DYING, I'd rather... not go, y'know. ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh, no, not going there. I'm just... walking around. [align left] Izzy tilts their head, first to the right, then to the left. A loud crack accompanies each move and I wince because I can just feel it in my own neck. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Ah, got it. Uh... since you're here... with nothing to do... doyouwannahangout? [align left] Wait, pause. What did they just say? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...what? ~~IZZY~~ `(slower)` Do you wanna... hang out? Like, right now? If not right now, I'm free later. Or whenever you want, really, unless the girls need me. ~~TIFFANY~~ *...what?* ~~IZZY~~ `(loudly and slowly)` Me! You! My room! Hanging out! If you want to! ~~TIFFANY~~ I heard you! I just don't know if you're being serious right now. [align left] Izzy's shoulders immediately slump. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(clearly hurt)` You think I'm joking? ~~TIFFANY~~ No, it's not that, it's just- we don't really talk, so... that's a bit... sudden. [align left] I can't see their expression at all due to that damned mask and goggle combo and I won't lie, it makes me feel a little uneasy. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Yeah, we don't. Great time to fix that. [align left] They nervously sway from side to side while looking at me — at least I think they're looking at me, their chin tilted up. I never thought that I'd ever find myself in a situation in which I actually would want to hang out with Mixter "Cringe Isn't Even Real" but... what else is there to do, really? And what harm is there in it? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay. Yeah, sure, why not. [align left] Izzy literally jumps with a quiet "yes!" that I can barely hear from behind that mask they're wearing. I swear they can barely stop themselves from *skipping* when they turn towards Lyrebird and something about it is so... *pure* that I can't help but smile, wholeheartedly and unironically. Nice, wholesome warmth spreads through my chest before I can fully control it. It gets snuffed out as soon as I remind myself that it's Izzy, after all, and maybe they're just glad to have *anyone* in that basement. Doesn't have to be *me*; I just happened to be available. When we get under the Lyrebird's door, every little bit of my enthusiasm disappears. I really don't know what's about this building but the sheer aura of it makes me feel unwelcome. That, and the fact that the guard at the entrance sends me a glare that could possibly kill anyone with bad enough anxiety. It doesn't click for a while but then I remember that you need a pass to get in. Of course, I don't have one. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Oh, don't worry, she's with me. [align left] Just like that, the guard looks the opposite way. Right. I somehow forgot that I'm with Izzy *Terrell* and that they can do anything they want here. They rush to the door to open it but they don't walk through – they're clearly holding it open for me. Wow, guess chivalry isn't dead, after all. I don't think I'll ever be able to get used to all the marble and gold in the Lyrebird lobby. It's not like I haven't been in places like this before, it's just that for some reason, everything here seems way too big, way too bright, borderline oppressive. Izzy, of course, doesn't mind any of it. They approach the desk as if all of this means nothing... probably because for them, it doesn't. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Welcome back- [align left] Just like the last time I've been here, he takes a die out of a drawer and rolls it. [align center] ~~MARK~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Mixter Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Miss Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Mister Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Mixter Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Miss Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Mister Terrell! I hope everything is fine? [continued] [align center] ~~IZZY~~ As fine as it can be in my situation, Mark. Could you get Tiffany on the guest registry? Pretty please? [align left] Mark tilts his whole body a little to the left just to take a good look at me from behind Izzy. His smile gets a tiny bit wider. [align center] ~~MARK~~ Ah, Miss Ragnell! Second time I see you this week. At this rate, you might want to ask for a long term pass. [align left] Izzy laughs as if they just heard something hilarious and so do I, just in case I'm supposed to. Will I ever need a long term pass? I mean, that only makes sense if I plan on coming to Lyrebird often... do I want that? Would Izzy want that? Some stupid voice at the back of my head starts telling me about all the benefits of possibly being besties with *Terrell* and I immediately taste something sour. God, that'd be extremely low of me. [align center] ~~MARK~~ All done. If you'll need a nightly extension- ~~TIFFANY~~ I don't think this will be needed, thank you. ~~IZZY~~ Yeah Mark, thanks a lot. By the way, they have your favorite in the cafeteria, I already told Maria to save you some. [align left] I swear I can see Mark's pupils dilating like he's a cat. He puts his hand to his chest, definitely touched. [align center] ~~MARK~~ [if _honorific === 1] [align center] Mixter Terrell, you are beyond generous. [if _honorific === 2] [align center] Miss Terrell, you are beyond generous. [if _honorific === 3] [align center] Mister Terrell, you are beyond generous. [if _honorific === 4] [align center] Mixter Terrell, you are beyond generous. [if _honorific === 5] [align center] Miss Terrell, you are beyond generous. [if _honorific === 6] [align center] Mister Terrell, you are beyond generous. [continued] [align left] Izzy just waves their hand dismissively but I can still see that their chin lifted just a tiny bit up, almost as if they're proud of themself. They turn to me and nod, showing that it's time for us to go. And so, we head towards the stairs. Even with someone else by my side, the horrifying vibe of the corridor still manages to give me chills. Too bright. Too cold. Too quiet. I need to say something to keep myself from thinking about it too much. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You really like that guy, don't you? ~~IZZY~~ Mark? I'd literally die for him. Actually, most of the staff here absolutely rocks. Like, Maria from the cafeteria? Funniest person alive, I swear. [align left] We arrive at the end of this absolutely nightmarish corridor. Izzy comes up to their door and fiddles with something until it opens with a hiss and a couple of metallic noises. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ I know it's weird but seriously, talk to the staff sometimes. Just don't bother the guards, they don't like it. Uh, wait a bit. [align left] They walk inside the room. I wouldn't be able to see them if it wasn't for the tiniest amount of light that's pouring in from the corridor and one small window that's placed so high you definitely can't look out of it without a ladder. Izzy's hunched over a desk by the entrance, clearly searching for something; once they're done with that, a string of LEDs that are placed across the ceiling turns on, completely covering the place in dim red light. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Hold up... [align left] Izzy looks at their hand as they tweak something with the remote that they're holding. The color of the lights switched from dim red to bright blue. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Okie dokie, we've got it. Come in, sit wherever- not in my gaming chair, though. [align left] I take a good look around the room to figure out my options. This place is, unsurprisingly, huge, even for Lyrebird standards, but it's all offset by the sheer amount of little display cabinets and bookshelves that line the walls. Every single one of them is filled with books, minifigures, replicas of weapons and armor I obviously don't recognize, and a wide variety of trinkets. All the space that's left on the walls is covered with posters and flags — I can see one that is probably a nonbinary pride flag, though it's hard to tell the exact colors in this light, and one that looks like a horrible misprint of the flag of California where the bear has two heads for whatever reason. There's a spot that I can only describe as a gaming corner — there's a bunch of consoles all stacked in one place underneath a more modern TV and one that's clearly older than we are, next to the desk with the gaming chair and one of those computers that can probably run any game imaginable. That's where Izzy is, taking off their mask, goggles and cloak; they throw it all onto the bed in the corner, which is surprisingly neatly made and weirdly... plain. White blanket, white pillows, not even a single plushie or anything on it. And there's an absolutely massive black bean bag in front of it. Good God, I haven't seen one of those in such a long time. It's a bit silly but I almost throw myself on it, which is a bad idea because they can be really hard sometimes, and it feels like it's trying to swallow me whole. Izzy gives me an amused look as I try my best to not sink too deep into it. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Need anything to eat or drink? It's no cafeteria but I've got some stuff. [align left] They bend down a little to reach something under the desk. It takes me a second to realize that there's a hidden cooler there and that they're taking a can out of it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ No, thanks. ~~IZZY~~ Alrighty. Just let me know if that changes. [align left] They lean back and crack open a can of what I can only assume is an energy drink — I've heard they chug those like crazy. After taking a long, long sip, they sigh happily and spin in their chair. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, did you know this used to be a secret society room? ~~TIFFANY~~ Really? ~~IZZY~~ Yeah. The Golden Bow. They were... it was this super exclusive club, almost entirely Lyrebird. They had to disband because they literally killed a Sparrow girl- sidenote, that's where that stupid "Lyrebird-Sparrow relationships are cursed" thing comes from- [align left] A shiver goes down my spine. Literal murder. Here. Here in this place where I'm sitting. Maybe even *exactly* here. And they talk about it like they're telling me about the weather. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're not being serious right now. ~~IZZY~~ I'm so for real with you! That's the only reason why I could land this place. [align left] That sure fucking explains why going downstairs feels like having life sucked out of you. How can Izzy even live here without getting depressed or even just thinking about this stuff constantly? [align center] ~~IZZY~~ But if we had to stop living in places where people died, we'd run out of space to live. And y'know, Portia's the best roommate I could ask for. Unproblematic. Doesn't do anything. Guess she fucks with the wifi sometimes, that's fair, it wasn't a thing when she was alive, she's just confused. [align left] They raise their can as if they're toasting. In this light, they look like a ghost themself; their pale skin seems to be almost glowing and their hair looks much brighter than it usually is. The contacts that they're wearing make their eyes inhumanely dark. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You don't think she's, like... really there, right? ~~IZZY~~ Nah. Just... I think we're sticking around for as long as people remember us- metaphorically or not. So if I remember Portia, she's still 'round here. If people remember me, I'm still around. That's how it works. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah but... you're alive. [align left] Their eyes widen a little, as if they're surprised by what I just said. Then, they nod, like they're taking in some sage advice. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ I mean, yeah! But I'm not gonna be here forever. I want to have some stuff clear when I'm still around to clean it. Future is a scam anyway. [align left] That's probably among one of the most concerning strings of sentences I've heard in my entire life and yet, Izzy seems to be completely oblivious to it, sipping their drink with their eyes closed like it's some sort of fine champagne that needs to be savored. Are they savoring it because the future is a scam and tomorrow's not guaranteed? Why would they even think that? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` Izzy... are you okay? Like, mentally? [align left] I have to ask just in case this is something serious, even though I don't know what to do if I hear *no*. Izzy just stares blankly for a while, then they gasp and cover their mouth, probably realizing what their words sounded like. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Oh shit, I'm sorry, it's just- I can't do smalltalk, okay? And death, it's a pretty good topic- ~~TIFFANY~~ Is it?! ~~IZZY~~ For some people here, yeah! [align left] I imagine Izzy talking about death with Mark the Receptionist. He's nodding along as they go on and on about their little ghost philosophy. The vision is actually funny enough to make that uneasy feeling back off a little. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Like, Clare's got no problem with that... or Kaja... or Tara, she's really fun, or Reed, when they were still there, but I guess that was because- ~~TIFFANY~~ Reed? ~~IZZY~~ [[Reed Verbrannt, yeah!|Izzy11b]]

config.header.left: "11 - Girl in Red" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" karaunlock: true -- ### Guess it's time to touch grass and breathe some fresh air. I don't know what to do now, true, but maybe going for a little walk in the garden will fix me and help me clear my mind. There's a reason why people make all those posts about reconnecting with nature or whatever. Even if it doesn't help, I don't exactly have anything else to do, and if I'm about to suffer alone, I might as well suffer in a more aesthetic place. I sit on my bed for a while, briefly indulging the cringe thought of myself pretending to be the main heroine of one of those weird fantasy romances, dramatic sighs among the roses and longing stares included. Not gonna lie, it's actually funny, and that gives me just the tiniest bit of energy that I need to move and get myself ready to go out. If I'm about to be the main character, I have to look like the main character... though I'll spare you all the three page description of how I'm getting ready *exactly*, that's not what you're here for. And it's all wonderfully thoughtless anyway, so it slipped away from my memory at this point. My head is still fairly empty when I leave White Crow and it's kind of nice. There's not a single person in sight, just me and the whole damn scene in front of me. I think this might be the first time I *really* notice how orange the leaves are against the blindingly white buildings and how the heels of my boots click against the cobblestone path. It's so weirdly peaceful out there now... and so lonely, just not in a way that bothers me; empty in a way that makes you feel light instead of hollow. Even the gate that leads to the garden with all of its intertwined iron flowers seems more beautiful than I remembered it to be. Passing through it feels like entering a completely different world. Maybe it's on purpose — the Golden Gates keep us away from the outside, after all, so maybe this one is just another layer of separation. Everything here seems both chaotic and planned, from the winding paths and weird little statues to the trees and flowers that are everywhere. I'd probably be able to name them all back when I was a kid but now, I can't remember anything. I move on, taking in all the colors, all of the browns, oranges, and yellows that come with fall, and... ...and just the brief flash of vivid red. I stop to take a better look at it but it disappears in the distance. I follow the path and I see it again: someone in a long red dress, close enough to be noticeable, far enough so all details are gone. I trail behind them, partially because I'm nosy and would love to see who's that, partially because I wanted to take this route anyway. Hopefully they won't think that I'm some sort of a fucked up stalker, though to be honest, if I wanted to stalk someone, I would wear shoes that make a little less noise. When I take the next turn, the stranger is gone. There's a small conservatory right in front of me so I guess they just went inside and that this wasn't an instance of some supernatural bullshit. It takes me a second to remember that Holly once told me people call this place The Cage, and honestly, I can see the vision here because it literally looks like an oversized vintage bird cage, just with glass filling the gaps between the bars. Really makes you wonder if this was done on purpose because, you know, Passerine Hills and all the bird theming, or if it's all just a coincidence. I get to the door; once I open it, I get hit with a gust of weirdly warm air and an overwhelming scent that's flowery, earthy, and... *green* all at once. For a moment, I forget why I even came here in the first place. It's a little hard to parse what's going on in the middle of all the plants but on some basic level, I know that it's all beautiful. [align center] ~~???~~ `(out of fucking nowhere)` You're bad at this. ~~TIFFANY~~ *JESUS CHRIST!* [align left] Good thing I didn't overreact, right? I turn around to try and find out who the voice belongs to and I find her, standing in her red dress, partially hidden behind some of the flowers. She's staring at me with her yellow eyes, definitely amused, considering the tiny smile on her lips. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Tara, what the fuck- ~~TARA~~ You make too much noise. [align left] She walks up to me, completely quiet, which shouldn't be possible because her button boots definitely have at least 2 inch heels that *should* make some sort of sound. It's like her presence just forces silence on everything around. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Listen, I wasn't following you- not on purpose, okay? I just wanted to come here. [align left] Her yellow eyes are completely focused on me and as unblinking as always. Somehow, she seems a little less... *unsettling* now. Could it be the dress? She always wears black, maybe the change of color changed the vibe, even though the cut of the dress is vaguely the same. Maybe it's her voice because it might still sound robotic but at least it has some emotion in it... also could be the fact that I can see her breathing for once. Even with all of this sorted out, though, there's still something wrong. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Where's Kaja? [align left] They're almost inseparable but Tara clearly came here alone. That's not normal. [align center] ~~TARA~~ Gone. She'll be back soon. [align left] She finally blinks and looks down. Her expression is as blank as it ever was but I can practically sense how the vibe shifts a little more towards sadness. If they're really as close as everyone says they are — and there's no evidence against it — then being apart is probably pretty painful. And where would Kaja even go without her? Probably some family business or whatever. Not that I care, I'm just curious. Tara looks back at me. [align center] ~~TARA~~ You're not scared this time. That's nice. ~~TIFFANY~~ What? ~~TARA~~ You seemed scared last time we met. Which is fine, I know why. [align left] Her voice is back to its usual monotone that doesn't betray a lot of emotion but I can't help but think she's a little sad about it. I guess I never really thought about how she deals with how she's being perceived... though in my defense, she's definitely not helping her case with how she presents herself. I know, I know, judging by appearance is shallow and bad, but let's be real, what was I meant to judge her by? The talks we don't have or the interviews she never gives? What am I meant to think about someone who never talks and just stands still and stares? [align center] ~~TARA~~ To be clear, I'm not mad. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...I had a rough day back then, okay? ~~TARA~~ Did I make it worse by talking to you? ~~TIFFANY~~ No- wait. You didn't even finish telling me about everything back then! [align left] She nods slowly. Without a word, she turns around and gestures for me to follow her, and I do — I mean, it'd be weird not to at this point, and it's not like I have anything to do. We go through the small alleys, a big mass of green leaves and colorful flowers surrounding us, all blended together, somewhat like the unholy crowd of photographers on a red carpet. My heels click like camera shutters and Tara's, of course, remain as quiet as ever, which only makes me wonder how the hell she can achieve that. She briefly looks back at me, almost like she knows what I'm thinking about, but says nothing. There's a small wooden bench here, clearly worn out a little. It's big enough for two, maybe three people if you're all really committed to squeezing together. Around it, there's an absolutely insane amount of roses — yellow and white, probably because of the whole Passerine Hills color scheme. The smell is slightly overwhelming but I just don't mind at this point. Tara sits down. The overall scenery and her dress make her look like someone that came straight out of a historical romance novel. [align center] ~~TARA~~ First, I need to tell you that Kaja doesn't hate you. [align left] She still speaks in the same way, separating syllables, but Kaja's name sounds smoother than everything else. Maybe she just says it more often than anything else and it just... smoothed out in practice. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What? ~~TARA~~ `(louder)` Kaja doesn't- ~~TIFFANY~~ No, *I heard you*, just- why would you say that? [align left] She clasps her hands together on her lap. Something softens in the way she looks at me and I realize that those yellow eyes no longer seem all that intimidating. [align center] ~~TARA~~ I thought you might want to know. She's... quite rough to others. She feels the need to be rude to- I can't say more, I'm sorry. And you don't have to trust me on that. [align left] I won't lie, it's a little hard for me to believe it. On one hand, Tara knows Kaja best so she's probably the most qualified to speak about what she's really like. On the other hand, Kaja's been nothing but weird towards me in general. If she doesn't hate me, she should do a better job at showing that... and if she's trying to be a bitch on purpose, then I unfortunately understand where she's coming from. Guess that's karma for all the times I did that to others. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...okay? Thanks. [align left] Tara just nods. She sits perfectly straight and still, and I wonder if this might be because of all the corsetry that her dress probably requires, judging by how totally *snatched* her waist is. Sure, corsets might not be absolute immovable death trap cages that people make them out to be, but I don't think you can slouch in them. Honestly, the whole outfit probably requires so much effort with all the layers and I totally respect that. I mean, didn't Victorians literally have to get people to help them dress up? Is Kaja doing that for Tara or can Tara somehow do it herself? That's a weird and invasive thing to think about, isn't it? [align center] ~~TARA~~ Will you sit down? ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh, yeah. [align left] The bench definitely forces us to be too close for my comfort. Tara *radiates* heat like she's got a fucking fever. Faint scent of smoke and cinnamon somehow manages to get to me through the smell of surrounding roses. I never thought about the kind of perfume she'd wear but this combo just makes sense on a level I can't quite explain. [align center] ~~TARA~~ Before we talk more, I need you to know... [align left] She closes her eyes and hangs her head. I can tell that she's not entirely comfortable with what she's about to say just by looking at her lips, pressed in a thin line. [align center] ~~TARA~~ I might... shut down. Stop talking. It's not a choice. I can't stop it or fix it. If you'll try and force me to speak, we will never talk again. [align left] Some things start to make a lot more sense now. If she might just randomly go quiet, then it's completely understandable why she wouldn't want to give interviews or speak in public in general. And the whole sign language thing with Kaja, they probably made it to talk to each other no matter what. I have no idea how I didn't think about it earlier. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... okay? Not a big deal for me. You can use the notes app to type or something, it's literally 2024. [align left] Tara's eyes shoot open. She slowly raises her head, then looks at me. I can't tell what the emotion that's showing on her face might be but it's definitely *the most emotion* I've ever seen from her. And then, she smiles. [align center] ~~TARA~~ `(softly)` I can type. [align left] She looks around, almost like she's checking if we're really alone here. After that, she stretches out her arms and sighs deeply. The smile disappears from her face and I remind myself that we're here to finish that whole talk about Reed and Clare, whatever that was about. Suddenly I'm not really sure if I want to know anything more. What if there's a reason why I never learned about it before? What do I even want to do with this knowledge? Tara tucks her hair behind her ear to get it out of her face. For some reason, it's only now that I notice her sword-shaped earrings; I know it's not possible for them to be sharp but I can't shake off the feeling that they *are*. [align center] ~~TARA~~ `(quietly)` Okay. `(louder)` Reed Verbrannt. What do you know? ~~TIFFANY~~ That they were on scholarship and they went void. ~~TARA~~ Yes. Gone. Without a word. ~~TIFFANY~~ But it's not that weird. Not with the scholarship students here, at least. [align left] Tara looks into my eyes like she's trying to read something from them. Can't deny, it gives me a brutal case of goosebumps, but I hold her gaze anyway. If she's trying to catch me on something, it doesn't matter. I have absolutely nothing to hide. [align center] ~~TARA~~ Did you know Reed and Clare were together? [align left] It's certainly something I've heard before, probably from Holly, but I don't think they were ever too public with it. This might be because of that stupid belief that relationships between people from Sparrow and Lyrebird are doomed to fail — some think it's a curse, I think it's just the fact that there's just a massive difference in lifestyles that drives people apart. That, and the pressure that already is there on scholarship students probably doesn't help with staying stable enough for a relationship. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah. ~~TARA~~ Did you ever... talk to Reed? [align left] I can't remember what they looked or sounded like so we definitely didn't talk, unless I completely forgot about it. I try to recall at least a tiny thing about them but there's absolutely nothing in my memory. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I don't think so? ~~TARA~~ I did. I talked to them. I talked to Clare, too. [align left] Tara looks away, suddenly tensed up. Her hands are no longer clasped together; now they're balled into fists. Whatever memories are going through her head right now definitely aren't pretty. [align center] ~~TARA~~ `(quietly)` Reed told me a lot about Clare. ~~TIFFANY~~ Like? [align left] She shifts a little, like she's trying to get away from me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Tara- ~~TARA~~ If something... *bad* happened, who do you think people would believe? Someone from Lyrebird or someone from Sparrow? [align left] I don't like what's implied in this question but I hate the fact that this isn't even a question in the first place. Both of us knew the answer before she finished talking. Of course the Lyrebird person would be the one that people are even willing to hear out in the first place and I don't think that I need to explain why that's the case. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ So, just to be clear: you think that Clare's responsible for Reed's disappearance. ~~TARA~~ I don't have *proof* but when I talked to Reed... they accused Clare of many things. Some of them were... [align left] Her fists clench and unclench. I can practically hear her breathing now, sharp inhales through the nose, slower exhales through the mouth. [align center] ~~TARA~~ `(faster than usual)` Some things were... absurd. Didn't make sense. I think... I think they were *ill*. But the things that made sense... Clare was quite... controlling. Possessive. And... [align left] Tara's voice sounds strained and more mechanical than usual at the last words. She tries to push through but it's clear that it will get her nowhere. In the end, she gives up and tilts her head back, letting out a frustrated sigh. I can't tell if she's more mad, sad, or tired of this — seems like it's a bit of all three. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay girl, no pressure. Type when you're ready. Or, like, don't, I don't know. [align left] She gives me a small nod, still staring upwards. It'll probably stress her even more if I keep looking at her so I focus on the roses around instead. Soft, white petals. Sharp thorns. Clare in her white cardigan, smiling. Her blindingly white room. *A hunter. Controlling. Possessive*. I try to remember when I could tell her what's my room number and I come up with nothing at all, and it could be just my spotty memory, sure, but there's a feeling deep inside of me that tells me it's *not*. She probably figured it out beforehand, somehow. [[Was she just waiting for an opportunity to...|KaRa11b]]

config.header.left: "11 - Just a Call Away" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" clarecheck: true -- ### She said I can call her whenever I need her, right? Maybe I don't really *need her*, as in, I'm not in some kind of an emergency situation that'd force me to call her so she can help me out... but, you know, we've been meeting each other lately in messed up circumstances and I think that it'd be best to have some good time for once. I probably owe her this much after... everything, not to mention, it's kind of awkward to know she saw me twice in a really vulnerable state and this isn't the image I want to maintain. She needs to know that's not what I am. Not like I know what I really am but that's besides the point. I open the drawer in my nightstand to take out the notebook page Clare wrote her number on. The lines printed on it look like someone couldn't decide between lined or graph paper; not like it matters a whole lot because the number itself is written so neatly that every digit fills the exact same amount of space. This is just incredible when you consider she wrote it all in low light — does she just have insane muscle memory from practicing writing it or is her eyesight just this good? The longer I hold the page, the more obvious it becomes that it kinda smells like vanilla with something flowery underneath — just like Clare herself. Calls are easy. Of course, that's not true for everyone, but I don't have bigger problems with them, not anymore, at least. You just input someone's number and you press that stupid icon, and things just kind of fall into place from here. This time, however, it feels so wildly difficult for no reason whatsoever. There are so many questions that start to fill my head. Like, yeah, she said I can call her, true, but did she really mean it? What if she only left her number out of pity? What if I call and she doesn't even pick up because, let's be real, why would she? She probably has plenty of things to do without me. For a good moment, I just input the number, then delete it, and repeat the cycle. In the meantime I manage to reorganize all of my makeup, make sure that all of my posts are properly queued, and recheck if I *really* did all of my reading for a statistics lecture tomorrow. I'm not sure what's taking me so much time, I don't know what holds me back. The perspective of somehow failing at making Clare pick up her damn phone, which is absolutely out of my control, makes me want to die. Okay, Tiffany. Deep breaths. You need to stop being a little bitch. You talked with literal celebrities most people wouldn't even have an opportunity to look at in real life; this should pose no problem. One digit at a time, you've got this. You've got this, girl. All that's left is to tap the screen in the right place... ...but why do I even think I'm entitled to wasting Clare's time? What the fuck am I doing, am I trying to make another Holly out of her, a replacement that I can use when the original is gone? Is this where this thing is going? No, of course not, that'd be really fucked up. I need to think about the other side. What if she's actually waiting for me to call ever since that cursed night? I close my eyes and put my finger right in front of the screen. If I tap anywhere but the call button without seeing, I'm not making this call. Otherwise, well, I'll just deal with whatever comes next. This is a reasonable and mature way of dealing with things. One... ...two... ...three. *Beep.* Shit. Shitshitshitshitshitshit, I wasn't meant to do that, it was not meant to happen, undo, undo, undo! I scramble to press the END CALL button but even though it's been just a fraction of a second, it's already too late: she picked up, the call was made and I am the clown of the century. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tiffany? [align left] Oh my God, do I seem that desperate? It's not like I gave her my number in return so she couldn't have known it's me- unless she expected me to call for some reason, of course. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(dying inside)` ...yeah, hi. ~~CLARE~~ Hi! Is everything alright? Do you need anything? [align left] Yes, a swift gift of merciful death. Why did I think it's a good idea? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I- not really? I just- I don't know, I- [align left] What the fuck is wrong with me? It's literally just a call. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry, I didn't want to waste your time, I'll just hang up- ~~CLARE~~ `(faster and louder than what I'd ever expect from her)` Nonono, don't hang up, don't be sorry, it's okay! `(back to normal)` Listen, I'm near White Crow now, if you want to- no pressure, of course, I understand if not, but I wanted to check in on you anyway, so if you want to- `(quietly)` ...if you want to, I can... come to visit... [align left] Okay, great, now I don't have to be the one asking. I pause just to control myself and not sigh with relief. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh, yeah, totally. *If you want to*. ~~CLARE~~ I do! [align left] I bite the inside of my cheek to not laugh. God. This is kind of hilarious, isn't it? What am I- what are *we* so stressed about? It's just a little meeting. This girl literally saw me curled up in a corner dying and I'm worried that... that what? That she's gonna say she's too busy? Ridiculous. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I can be under White Crow in two minutes, is that alright? ~~TIFFANY~~ Two minutes? That's- ~~CLARE~~ `(somewhat panicked)` Should I be there sooner? I can always- ~~TIFFANY~~ God, no! Just- take your time, I still need to prepare. [align left] I hear Clare's muted laugh. It's so easy to imagine her putting her hand to her mouth on the other side, trying to stifle any sound so that I don't get attacked by sudden loud noise. Maybe she thinks it's a little funny too. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(clearly calmer now)` Alright. Alright, I'll be outside. Whenever you're ready. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, see you. [align left] I end the call and that last parting beep is so goddamn loud that I wince. Okay. The die's been cast, Tiffany. Let's hope you rolled high enough so that this doesn't end in a disaster. With Clare possibly waiting outside, I don't have a lot of time. There's probably no use in trying to switch my outfit or completely redo my makeup; guess I'll have to just do minor touch-ups instead. I didn't have the strength or willpower to make myself look good in the morning, considering that yesterday was literally one of the worst days of my life, so I only catch things like uneven eyeliner now, and there's only so much I can do with it on a short notice. Would Clare even realize I'm an aesthetic mess? If so, would she care? Could I perhaps use a minute or two before leaving just to scream into my pillow? I decide to not overthink, take a deep breath, get my bag, make sure I have everything with me, and head out. The fall is in full swing but at least it's not as cold as I thought it might be — still cold, just so we're clear, but it's not tragic. I look around to find Clare only to see her already walking towards me, dressed all in white and red, clutching the strap of her messenger bag like she's scared it might suddenly detach and fly away. As soon as she notices that I'm looking at her, she smiles, and God, there's something about the way she smiles that kind of disarms me. I can't explain it. It just makes you all soft on the inside. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh, hi. Sorry that it took this long. ~~CLARE~~ It's alright. Do you need anything before we go? Did you sleep well? Have you eaten yet- ~~TIFFANY~~ God, slow down a little. I'm fine. Really. [align left] I'm not but it's not like I want to do an entire trauma dump in the very first moments of our meeting. Clare looks down, which is an obvious enough sign that she's embarrassed but just in case it's not, her cheeks and the tips of her ears turn totally red. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I'm sorry, I just... want to make sure. It's been a rough couple of days for you. [align left] She looks up at me, still a little blushy, and smiles again. I briefly think about what Tara told me, that whole thing about sweetness being deceiving, but it strikes me as genuine. Like, if Clare's pretending to be nice right now, she's got to be an incredible actress. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Do you just want to go on a walk or...? [align left] Meeting on neutral ground is probably a good idea. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh, yeah, a walk's fine with me. [align left] We stand still for a moment and I can't understand why until I realize that we're just waiting for the other one to move. With a small nod, I let her know that I want her to lead the way, since technically she was the one who proposed the entire idea, and she does. Everything around is strangely quiet and I decide that maybe it's best to take it in for a moment instead of ruining everything by talking. It might actually be the first time I notice how *orange* everything is because of all the leaves around. Clare probably thinks the same because she keeps looking around with that small smile; when our eyes briefly meet, her smile widens ever so slightly. I can't tell what it is about her but she seems like she belongs in some different world, like she's completely out of place here. Even when I see her in front of the pristinely white walls that almost every damn building here has, her short coat remains the brightest white around. It's like it's glowing with its own light, or maybe it's Clare herself glowing, and I know it's such a stupid thing to think but I really don't know how else to describe it. The vividly red scarf around her neck is kind of matching with her skirt, which is slightly shorter than the one she wore when I last saw her, and I can't stop thinking about the color choice here because... it's a bit bold, isn't it? Is it a choice she made consciously or... [align center] ~~CLARE~~ The autumn's really beautiful here. [align left] Her French accent is usually fairly subtle; you can hear it most prominently on the Rs and the THs, of course, but it really jumped out with that "autumn". This, somehow, is the thing that makes me remember that she comes all the way from fucking *France* and, you know, why would she even come here? You could make an argument that she might have some reason to be in Passerine Hills but everyone knows that she already attended Saint Hildegard's before coming here, which means she had to live in America for at least four full school years, and... why would you do this to yourself, really? What is she doing here? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ What are you thinking about? ~~TIFFANY~~ You. ~~CLARE~~ ...oh! [align left] Congratulations, Tiffany! Come and get your Miss Thoughtlessness sash, you totally deserve it! The color of Clare's face is already neatly harmonizing with her scarf and my own cheeks are hot enough that they're probably accelerating global warming at an alarming speed. I look down on the path we're on and realize that we're walking in sync. Exact same timing, left, right, left, right. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` Do you... want to elaborate or... [align left] I kinda don't but I feel like not saying anything will make this situation far worse than it actually is. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I just wondered why you're here. ~~CLARE~~ ...on a walk with you? ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean, *here*, like- in Passerine Hills. Like, is there something with your family or... I don't know, maybe you've been a niche French celebrity all this time. [align left] My attempt at making things a little less awkward clearly worked because Clare laughs; for just a moment, right before she covers her mouth with her hand, I can see how long and sharp her canines are. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Oh, no, I'm not, it's- [align left] Her face drops and the general vibe completely shifts. There's this uncomfortable feeling right in my chest that tells me I'm about to hear something I might've not been prepared for. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Dad was sick. Cure is nowhere in sight, there's just a couple of experimental treatments that might... delay the inevitable. That's what we moved for. [align left] She says it like it's not one of the most heartbreaking things you could possibly hear from anyone, like she's just talking about yesterday's weather or something. I briefly think about losing my own dad and I suddenly can't breathe. Sure, we'll all die, you can't avoid that, but it doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt, and it definitely has to hurt more when you see someone suffer and know there's nothing you can do for them, right? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ He became a little religious some time before his death, I suppose he was trying to find some purpose in all of this. I went to Saint Hildegard's because he wanted me to. And somewhere along the way, my mother... [align left] Oh, I see how it is now. It's *mother* but not *father*, and *dad* but not *mom*. Recognizing that pattern is like having someone punch a hole right through your chest, probably because I do the exact same thing and I know what kind of feelings lead you to this place. I want to say something but what do I even tell her? *Hey, sorry for interrupting, but, like, does your mother also hate you? Oh my God, girl, same!* [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I probably shouldn't tell you this but... we've gotten close with Terrells, they're donating a lot towards research and... our paths crossed. ~~TIFFANY~~ So, you knew Izzy before coming here? ~~CLARE~~ We weren't close but yes, we knew each other. I was offered a place here because of this. I refused at first because it felt- it felt kind of weird. But then, Vi... [align left] I wait for her to continue. With a completely blank expression, she kicks a stone off of the path and I watch how it flies right into a pile of freshly raked leaves. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ We came here together because I wanted to be where she was... and then it turned out she didn't want to be with me anymore after almost four years of our relationship, and... [align left] Clare slows down and then stops completely so I do the same right next to her, still quiet because something tells me she doesn't get an opportunity to just talk like this. Izzy and Vi probably know all of this already and I can't remember ever seeing her having a conversation with anyone outside of her little patrols at Terrell Hall parties. I don't know, maybe she needs someone to shut up for once and listen, and it's not like I have anything to say anyway. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ So, anyway, uhm... you wanted to know why I'm here, so... it's a little silly, but... [align left] There's something desperate in the way she looks at me now, fidgeting with one end of her red scarf. It's like she wants me to do something but I can't figure out what it could be. She stares right into my eyes like she's trying to read my thoughts. And then she smiles again and I'll be honest with you, I don't think about much at that moment. My brain goes completely blank because yeah, sure, there are horrors and grief everywhere, but she looks so... soft. Her eyes are still sky blue and fading freckles on her face are just the cutest thing, and... and if I were her, I probably would've already given up on everything, but she's out there, doing fucking volunteer work, making sure others are okay, and... [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` ...I think love brought me here. Because- everything that led me here, everything that happened to me, all the things that I do, it's because of love. For my dad, for Vi... [align left] The air suddenly gets... thick. There's tension in it that I can't really name and I can feel it all around me as my heart decides to start acting like I just did some brutal cardio. Clare is still looking straight into my eyes and I know I can look away at any given moment but I *can't*. I think for a moment about that night when she took me to my room and how my thoughts just kinda drifted towards her, and... oh my God, I'm not having a crush, am I? That'd be ridiculously fast. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ [[...in a way, even for Reed.|Clare11b]]

config.header.left: "11 - What I Didn't Know" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" phonesearch: true -- ### I don't think I can focus on anything else right now. It just kind of feels like the right time to reflect on everything and analyze where I went wrong because I definitely had to go wrong somewhere, considering how my supposed bestie snapped. If I want to fix things, I need to know where things broke first. It hits me that I can't remember if I ever fucked up like this before. After that, it hits me even harder that this is because I just didn't have friendships like this... ever. I used to be a little awkward mess of a girl that nobody wanted to talk to until I started getting prettier and gained some mild popularity but it was so wildly obvious that they don't want to be friends, they just wanted to capitalize on "we were close when we were kids" stories in the future or maybe get some stupid invites for events, or whatever else they thought they might get from this. And after I got too big to hang out with them and had to switch my environment completely, well, that didn't help a lot because there's drama on every goddamn corner of this industry and one wrong association can mess your entire life up. Actually, even getting close to the *right* people will mess you up; I still haven't recovered from the vile stuff that was written about my last relationship. I know it reeks of a bad apology statement but I just needed to get this off of my chest. It's not an excuse but it's an explanation and you can't truly get better and improve without knowing *why* you did things. If I want to be a better friend for Holly (and I really want that), I need to put in some work. I close my eyes and just kinda let my thoughts run free for a while. My memory just happens to dig up that event at the beginning of the year here. Terrell Hall was all decorated to welcome us, a new year of rich bitches spending money on this school for one reason or another. The whole place looked like a picture from a sponsored post about bleach because it's apparently traditional to wear white on your first day and (with some minor exceptions) everyone followed the dress code. The headmistress waxed poetic about all the supposed great things we might achieve or whatever and we all knew it's bullshit but you know, guess she kinda has to say that. I mentally checked out roughly half an hour ago so it took me a while to realize that someone sitting behind me was tapping me on my shoulder. You're not stupid, you already know it was Holly. I turned around with the full intention of telling her to stop but I got kind of speechless when I actually saw her. Not in a bad way, just so we're clear; she just looked effortlessly cute in a way I've never seen before. Her summer dress was the shade of a really pale pink that just bordered on white enough to meet the dress code. She was leaning a little forward, looking at me with that unforgettable sparkle in her hazel eyes, and her smile, God, the smile she gave me was real, I could just tell that. [align center] ~~HOLLY~~ `(whispering)` Hi, I'm Holly, from White Crow. You're coming later? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(also whispering)` Coming later? ~~HOLLY~~ They're holding a party here later tonight. 10pm. If you're in White Crow, I can come get you and we can go together. You're in? [align left] Did I feel like going to any party that night? Nope. I was kinda tired and maybe a little overwhelmed by the complete change of scenery, not to mention that I still had to film a video to let my fans know I might be slowing down with uploads due to all the school stuff. I didn't know who Holly might be at all — she could've been anyone, really — but I agreed anyway, just because it'd be a great opportunity to see what the vibes are around here. We exchanged our room info and sure enough, she was knocking on my door while I was recording because I kinda forgot about it all. She just took me by my hand the moment I stepped outside and practically dragged me to the Terrell Hall, right into the middle of the party with her other friend, Audrey, and... not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun. Holly was more than eager to share all of the things she learned about people around already, Audrey took the best pictures you could ever imagine, and I... ...I wasn't doing a whole lot, was I? I'm trying to remember what I did to make Holly want to hang out with me and I really can't come up with anything. I was... there, I guess, so she doesn't feel alone... but that's not enough, right? That's not how friendship or anything works. She kept coming back for me every Friday, she kept telling me everything she heard about, she was always within my reach, and I... what did I do to repay that? Nothing comes to my mind. I briefly glance at Holly's destroyed phone that's still on my desk. I should've given it back to her, and of course I'll do it once the week of silence passes, but... I can't help but wonder how many memories it holds. How many pics that Audrey took are still there? How many photos that Holly loves? Maybe I should check if it's all recoverable. With a phone that's been this fucked up physically, it's not guaranteed. I'm sure she'll appreciate having a backup of her data and all, right? Oh, who am I kidding, I kinda want to go through her phone to see what I missed, what events I wasn't there for, and maybe, what happened at the last party. There could be clues. It's a terrible thing to consider but I just can't get the image of her with her red eyes and scraped knuckles out of my head. And didn't Emmeline say that whatever Holly's dealing with is bigger than regular school problems? Fuck, am I really gonna do it? Do I truly wanna know? What if it's something I can't handle? If you think I'm stupid for doing this, yeah, I actually agree. I still take Holly's phone, get the cable, and plug it in to my laptop. I'm not even sure if I want it all to work. A window pops up, asking for a password. Four digits, three tries. Shit. 0925. I remember that she was obsessed with Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" when she was a kid for whatever reason. Her mom had enough of it and the song was banned at their house. I remember how Holly laughed as she explained how she listened to it in secret... so, maybe that's what she used to keep her other secrets safe? Input, enter. Wrong. Two tries left. Okay, maybe I need to try something simpler. 0803. August 3rd, her birthday. She told me that this is her lucky day every year. This year, for example, her little brother, Blake, made her... something... I can't remember what it was but I know Holly was really happy about it. Input, enter. Wrong. One last try. Shit shit shit. I'm running out of ideas. Not birth year, I don't think she'd do that... nothing related to her mother's career because she hated talking about it... no, it has to be something else. Favorite number? I don't remember what it was. Did she never tell me or did I just forget? Maybe classic 0000? 1234? 9999? 1111? No, she wouldn't choose easy ones like this and she wouldn't choose something this impersonal. It has to matter to her. Maybe... I lowkey hope that this will be wrong. I hope that this will lock me out and I won't have to worry about it anymore, and I hope that I won't have to deal with whatever I'll feel in case it's correct. 1220. The window disappears and I can now see countless rows of documents and photos slowly popping up on the screen. 1220. December 20th. My birthday. That's the date that mattered to her so much she had to make it her password. I can literally taste something bitter in my mouth as I stare at all the files in front of me. Congratulations, Tiffany, you got there! Now what? Are you just going to go through everything, one by one? I know it's wrong- no, super fucked up, but I do it anyway. With a shaking hand, I scroll down to the first files. They're dated for August so I guess Holly bought this phone specifically for Passerine Hills. Nothing unusual, people do it all the time for privacy reasons. Photo from August 23rd, 2024 — first Terrell Hall party, the night Breakfast Club was born. Holly's looking right into the camera — right into my eyes. She stares at me with a big broad smile that exposes the tiny gap between her front teeth. The next day, she told me that she doesn't show her teeth while smiling often because it makes her self-conscious but she felt so happy at that moment that she simply didn't care anymore. I'm right behind her, throwing a peace sign like a true bisexual would. My smile is smaller but not less sincere. In front of us, there's Audrey, who's completely focused on serving face, as she often was. Her black hair (dyed, which she was sure to tell us multiple times) and eyes seem to completely absorb the light. I have absolutely no idea how she managed to do a cut crease on monolids, where there's no crease to be cut, but somehow, that worked for her. I should've asked when I still could. Not like it'd be useful for me but... well, you know. I click on another photo. It's just Holly and Audrey, posing in a scratched up full-length mirror. I don't recognize it so it probably was in Audrey's Sparrow room that I never got to see. Audrey's got Holly's baby pink cardigan on, Holly's wearing Audrey's deep purple sweater; those are *definitely* not their colors. A laptop in the background is stuck on a scene from some strange black-and-white movie, probably some experimental cinema that Audrey loved so much. She was holding those movie nights that I never went to because I didn't want to drag myself through half of Passerine Hills at night just to watch three hours of... I don't know, European avant-garde. I check the date — September 22nd. Audrey will be wearing that purple sweater three days later during her walk of shame. Three days after this photo is taken, her things will be packed up, her room emptied, and her collateral revealed for everyone to know. I completely repressed what it was. It felt disrespectful to remember and Holly never talked about it, either. We never even learned what Audrey did to get kicked out but we all watched her on her way to the main gate, surrounded by the staff carrying her things. Everybody whispered about it, except for me and Holly. And Holly didn't take this situation too well. I tried to show her that the world didn't end with Audrey by doing all of the things we always did before, back when she was still with us. We still went to parties and we still had the Breakfast Club episodes after each one of them, and I thought that this might be what she needed when it was clearly not. I wanted her to forget when she needed to grieve, for lack of a better term, because it was easier for me. I click on another photo — one that's Audreyless, for obvious reasons. It's the Terrell Hall party from Audrey's walk of shame week. I almost thought Holly wouldn't want to go but she did anyway. In the picture, she's posing with someone I can't recognize for a good minute before it clicks. *Do you remember Reed Verbrannt?* Their hair — black with orange ombre — is put together in a rather messy long braid. Both Reed and Holly are smiling but you just can tell that they don't want to be there; Holly's smile doesn't even reach her eyes. Bright corridor lights reflect in Reed's round glasses so strongly that I can't see their eyes but I can totally see the dark circles under them. I check the date again. This photo was taken on Friday; next Monday, Reed would be gone without a word. I stare at the picture for a little while too long, to the point where I can almost see a blurry silhouette reflected in Reed's glasses, like someone's watching them from the corridor. *She's a hunter.* I can trace the lines that make up a messenger bag and the exact outline of a vintage cardigan. My heart speeds up as I'm trying to process what I'm seeing and Tara's monotone voice just keeps echoing in my head. What I see is undeniably creepy — Clare's just standing there, watching from afar, and... ...and I'm overreacting, first of all, and second of all, I'm wasting time. Of course Clare's out in the corridor, that's where she tends to be every fucking Friday, and of course she'd be looking at Reed, they look like they're about to faint. It's paranoia. I need to snap out of it. So I click through the next bunch of pics. It doesn't matter what they are because all I can see on them is Holly, smiling, but clearly changed. Her hazel eyes just don't have the same shine in them anymore, no matter who she's posing with or where she is. That Holly who took me to that first party? Gone. Holly from the Breakfast Club formation night? Gone. Holly that watched strange movies on risky trips to Sparrow? Gone. Gone, gone, gone, and I haven't even noticed how she slipped away. There's a hole inside of me that just keeps growing and growing as I click on yet another photograph, then another, then another. It feels like self-harm but I can't stop staring and analyzing every little thing. The light in her hazel eyes, the way her black hair curled, the quality of her makeup looks, the state of her clothes. It hurts. It hurts when I realize that all of those pics are a steady timeline of Holly getting worse and worse. It hurts when I see her warm brown skin gain an unhealthy gray undertone on some days that must've been particularly bad, it hurts when I see her ditch her frills and bows for easier to wear sweaters and cardigans, it hurts when I notice how she slowly phases out her sparkling and pastel eyeshadows for simpler looks. She was getting worse right in front of me and I didn't see anything... or maybe I just *didn't want to see anything*. There's quite a chance I hoped that whatever was wrong with her would just go away, which is definitely not how it works. I lean back in my chair and tilt my head upwards so the only thing I can see is the violently white ceiling. There is Tiffany Ragnell, the influencer, the one that seems to have everything figured out, and then there's me, that emotionally stunted child that just never learned how to care about others which made her... ...holy shit, when will I stop making everything about myself? It doesn't matter. It literally doesn't matter. I fucked up and I need to make it right somehow if I want to be any good for Holly, and of course I do. I need to figure out what's wrong in her life and if I can help in any way, and I need to figure out how to show that I care, since it just doesn't come naturally. I can't give up and I can't lose her. When she decides to talk to me once the week of silence passes, I need to do my absolute fucking best and nothing less. There won't be another chance, I can tell that. With a groan, I change my position in my chair and click through some files — and there's an entire lot of them, to the point where I start to wonder how much memory does this phone even have. Text documents with old essays for the Poetry course — I didn't even know she took that one. PDFs of scientific papers on stars. E-books about astrology. Rulesets for tabletop RPGs I've never heard about — this could be Izzy's influence. More photos, this time, of places all around the Passerine Hills, with random architectural details circled and annotated. Papers about... marketing? Biology papers I can't even begin to understand — judging by a bunch of question marks written on the margins, Holly didn't get it either. Pics of what looks like an army of futuristic plastic soldiers — again, Izzy's thing, I assume. Beginner Spanish textbook. It's not even a mountain, it's an entire *mountain range* of evidence that I knew nothing about what she likes or is into. I try to map every file to something she said or someone she might know, coming up with some connections to people she briefly mentioned from time to time as I keep on clicking and clicking. [[Until I click on something I definitely wasn't meant to see.|Holly11b]]

config.footer.left: "{back link}" -- <details><summary>GENERAL</summary> MENTIONED/DISCUSSED: Sale and consumption of drugs and alcohol, self-harm behavior, blackmail, physical fight between romantic partners, mental health breakdown IMPLIED: Physical assault (in the past) ON-SCREEN: Blood (nosebleed) OTHER: Frequent use of profanity. Headaches are being compared to graphic head injuries. Normally non-speaking character speaks, which is somewhat sensationalized, though no comments are made "out loud". Tiffany references her relationship with her emotionally distant mother. </details> <details><summary>ROUTE-SPECIFIC</summary> <details><summary>HOLLY</summary> MENTIONED/DISCUSSED: potential revenge porn/sexually charged blackmail <details><summary>[show relevant choices]</summary>Give Holly space in scene 9 (Breaking Point) and stay in your room in scene 11 (Alone) </details> </details> <details><summary>CLARE</summary> MENTIONED/DISCUSSED: Death of a parent, terminal illness <details><summary>[show relevant choices]</summary>Call Clare in scene 11 (Alone) </details> </details> <details><summary>EMMELINE AND VI</summary> No route-specific warnings (please contact me if it's not true!) <details><summary>[show relevant choices]</summary>Choose to go to the library in scene 11 (Alone) </details> </details> <details><summary>KAJA AND TARA</summary> MENTIONED/DISCUSSED: speculation on past/present abusive relationships <details><summary>[show relevant choices]</summary>Choose to go to the garden in scene 11 (Alone) </details> </details> <details><summary>IZZY</summary> MENTIONED/DISCUSSED: murder, death, implied suicidal ideation <details><summary>[show relevant choices]</summary>Choose to go outside without a plan in scene 11 (Alone) </details> </details> </details>

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- I already told myself that Clare couldn't have hurt anyone but even with that considered, the mystery of Reed's disappearance is still unsolved, and it'd be great if I could finally get it off of my mind. If anyone knows anything, it'd probably be Izzy — I mean, they're a Terrell, so they *might* have access to knowledge nobody else can even dream of having. I watch them as they sip their drink slowly — I'm not sure if it's because they're enjoying the fact that I'm waiting for them to talk or if they just need to find the right words in the first place. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ I mean... I kinda knew they might snap, I've seen it all before 'cause it's been *years* since I came here and I just can tell at this point. It really fucking sucks that there's SO MUCH pressure and tension and all- and that stupid elitism- [align left] They look at me and their stare feels like they're trying to drill a hole right through my head. All traces of their deeply unserious vibe that they always have are now completely gone and that's enough to make the uneasiness come back. And... [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(carefully)` I mean... I know it's controversial but- if someone worked this hard to get there, I think it doesn't *really* matter if they're poor? Everybody knows there are assets other than money. ~~TIFFANY~~ True, but- what did you mean when you said they *might snap*? ~~IZZY~~ Oh. Right. You don't know. [align left] They lean down to get another can from the cooler. Before I know it, the can is already in the air, flying straight at my face, and I have no damn idea how I manage to catch it in time. Adrenaline or something. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What the fu- ~~IZZY~~ Ice tea, 'cause I'm about to spill. ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, cool, just- don't *throw things* at me next time. [align left] Izzy nods. I'd normally give them a way longer and way less pleasant talk but I guess they were just trying to be nice in a weird way. Not to mention, you should never start arguing with someone who's about to give you information. I'm not *that* stupid. I wait a little just in case the drink might have some carbonation somehow — I don't want it to shoot all over me, that'd be embarrassing — then open it up as Izzy snaps their fingers repeatedly, trying to get their thoughts in order. Or at least I think that's what they're trying to do. I take a while to take a look at their clothes and I realize that the whole outfit is just really heavy looking black jeans and a hoodie with the Lyrebird logo on it. Not even a single weird reference or neon color, unless the light messes with what I see. It's so out of place that I don't know how I haven't noticed it before. That's not how they dress. That's... wrong. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, Reed's a scholarship person, right? And that's a whole bunch of pressure in itself 'cause you need to keep your grades up and stuff but there's also this whole layer of them being poor, so that's a bit alienating and all, and Sparrow- okay, sorry, back on track. Clare, right, Clare just broke up with Vi, and she and Reed, they got really close, then they got *closer*, and y'know, the whole thing about "Lyrebird-Sparrow relationships are cursed"- sidenote, that's just bullshit so we don't fall in love with poor people, which is *fucked up*- [align left] Honestly, I'd never expect them to speak about the holy wealth gap with such disgust... but I guess I also never thought that I'll be sitting on a bean bag in their basement, so, I'll just take it. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Okay, another tangent, sorry. The point is, the pressure is getting to Reed, *hard*. And the more stressed out they are, the clingier Clare gets- Vi told me she sees helping others like her duty or something. But she's not helping Reed at all, she's... she's kinda making things worse- *don't tell her I said that*. Like, she's just adding more pressure, and one night... I guess Reed... broke, and... [align left] This is incredibly cliché but I'm holding my breath while waiting for them to continue. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, uh... if anyone asks, you didn't hear it from me. Wait, no. You didn't hear that *at all*. Promise? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` Promise. [align left] They stay silent for a while, tapping their fingers on the can in an irregular rhythm, brows furrowed as they stare at the floor. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(almost whispering)` This whole place was on lockdown one night this year. Like, guards out by the door so nobody can leave, that stuff, you wouldn't know because it was late. They always leave me out because the basement is safe, so I heard that something's going on, went upstairs, and... [align left] Izzy pauses again. They turn on one of the monitors on their desk; the footage on the screen shows the corridor right outside of the door, completely empty, as it should be. I didn't even notice a camera there but to be fair, both times I was here, I was busy looking somewhere else. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Okay, gonna be straightforward. The door to Clare's room? Wide open. Reed? *Unconscious*. Clare? Serving thousand yard stare. Infirmary girls and guards are taking them both out. Not. A word. Is said. ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispering)` Holy shit. [align left] They nod. Now I notice that they hold their can so tightly that it's slightly dented under their fingertips — no idea how I didn't hear the metal bending. Is this stressing them out for some reason? Are they afraid of something? Can they be scared of *anything* in a place their family essentially runs? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ But... what happened? ~~IZZY~~ Listen, I don't know. ~~TIFFANY~~ Can't you just... check some documents or whatever? [align left] I jump when Izzy slams the half-empty can on their desk; the metallic *clank* is loud enough that I swear I can hear it echo across the room. They give me a stare so intense that I immediately sink deeper and deeper into the bean bag in an attempt to escape it. I can't tell what the color of their eyes is — in the proper light, maybe it'd look pink or red, but now, it's just all *black*. For a moment, I forget that contacts exist. If anyone could look like this naturally, it'd probably be Izzy Terrell. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(harshly)` You're all *really* overestimating what I can do. ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry. I just... heard things and I want to know what's real and what's not. [align left] Izzy gets out of their chair and sits down on the floor next to me — close enough so I can smell their perfume, something subtle, citrusy and flowery at the same time. I can't tell what their expression is meant to be but they seem a little uneasy. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(softly)` There are rumors going on, I get it. But Clare won't talk and Reed isn't here to tell us what happened, and only the two of them know. Not me, not you, not anybody else. You wanna know what *I* think might've happened? [align left] I just nod. They sigh, then look me in the eye; somehow, their eyes no longer seem so weird. Maybe I just got used to them. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Reed broke under the pressure, they lashed out- not like they *normally* would, it was just a terrible time for them. Clare's pretty strong, she panicked and knocked them out, then called the infirmary. Reed left because... I don't know, guilt? Or they knew that they can't handle being here, in the end? End of the story, either way. [align left] They go quiet and look away again, like they feel guilty about something. I take a long sip of the overly sweet drink from the can Izzy gave me just to stop my mouth from going uncomfortably dry. The room suddenly gets smaller and a tiny thought at the back of my head tells me that I need to prepare myself for another piece of knowledge that I probably shouldn't have. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Clare's family and mine, we're kinda... close. Can't say more, that'd be like going null with you. But I know Clare and... whatever happened, I know she didn't want to do it and I know she regrets it. So, uh... don't treat her weirdly, 'kay? [align left] *Like going null with you*. Of course. Lyrebird people don't have to submit collaterals but it doesn't mean that they don't have secrets. Something's going on between Izzy's family and Clare's family, and it must be something weird because if it wasn't, they'd probably tell me what's the deal with that. I'd really love to try and put together all the info I just learned and maybe dig a bit deeper in my own memory but my head might explode if I think about it for a second longer. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(softly)` Hey, you're alright? You look like you've seen Portia. ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry, I just wasn't ready for any of this. ~~IZZY~~ Fair. Can I touch your hand or is that not an option? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...wait, why? ~~IZZY~~ Grounding. You really look out of it. [align left] You know I hate being touched by people I don't know that well... but it kinda feels right to let Izzy do it after they told me all those things they shouldn't have ever told me. Equivalent exchange, right? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, I guess. [align left] They smile and put their hand on mine; I immediately cringe because it feels like someone dumped a whole bunch of fresh snow on my skin. It's this type of cold that's prickling, like literal tiny needles, and I can't help but think that this is what I imagine touching a dead body would feel like. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ What's wrong with your hands? ~~IZZY~~ What's wrong? Well, my skin is pale white and ice cold, my eyes change color, I don't go out in the sunlight... [align left] Just like this, the whole heaviness that was still in the air is gone and I laugh. It's not forced, it's not ironic, it's not mean. I laugh because I just want to and I won't lie, it feels somewhat cathartic. Izzy flinches, clearly startled by a sudden loud noise; when that brief moment of shock wears off, they laugh with me. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, *that's* why you live in the basement... ~~IZZY~~ Are you afraid? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispering dramatically)` You won't hurt me. [align left] They lean forward; their face is dangerously close to my neck now and their breath tickles a little. I know that it's all a joke and committing to the bit, but my brain short-circuits on the spot after just a thought that I might *actually* get bitten. I should probably get away but I'm frozen and I'm afraid it's not... it's not out of fear, okay, at some level of being touch starved you might start thinking that getting bitten will fix you, there, I said it, happy now? [align center] ~~IZZY~~ So, that might sound weird, but do you- [align left] A knock on the door makes us jump away from each other. Izzy looks a little like a startled kitten with their big eyes and I laugh again because it's just *silly*, and maybe a little cute, and I just can't help it. They make a high pitched noise that probably comes with embarrassment but they can't hide the tiny smile on their face. The smile disappears as soon as they take a look at the camera footage. The visitor is all too familiar. White coat, blond hair, messenger bag slung over her shoulder. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(through gritted teeth)` Great fucking timing, *Clare*- `(normally again)` Sorry, I need to talk to her. Gonna be back in a sec. [align left] They get up with a sigh and go to open the door. Clare on the screen looks up, straight into the camera. She tilts her head a little and her eyes narrow; I know it's impossible for her to be looking at *me* but it still feels like she's doing just that. The moment the door opens, she immediately puts on a smile. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Hi! I'm here with your- ~~IZZY~~ Shh! [align left] That was the most aggressive *shh* I've heard in my entire life and I used to go to libraries pretty often. Izzy gestures to Clare — a pretty straightforward "gimme that" motion — and Clare opens up her messenger bag. She searches for something, then hands Izzy an envelope; I can't see it in much detail but it seems completely blank. So, that's another secret to the collection. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ You've got guests? ~~IZZY~~ Yeah. [align left] Izzy puts the envelope down on the desk by the entrance. Clare's smile gets a bit wider. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tiffany? ~~IZZY~~ How- ~~CLARE~~ I saw you two outside. Can she come here? I've got something for her. [align left] Something for... me? I lean forward a little to see the screen better. Clare takes something out of her pocket and shows it to Izzy. It fits in her hand perfectly and she presents it in such a way that it's completely shielded from the camera. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ `(carefully)` You got it back? Are you sure you want to- ~~CLARE~~ That'll make things easier for you, no? [align left] What does she even mean? Izzy sways from side to side for a short while, then turns around. [align center] ~~IZZY~~ Tiff? Can you come here? [align left] Can I? I lift myself from the bean bag that doesn't really want to let me go, almost forgetting that I've been holding that stupid can of ice tea in my hand the entire time. I put it on the desk next to Izzy's, take a deep breath, and get to the door. Izzy takes a step to the side to make space for me and Clare immediately lights up. She looks soft. Innocent. Completely incapable of knocking someone out. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh, hi. ~~CLARE~~ Tiffany, hi! I won't take too much of your time, I just wanted you to have this. [align left] She hands me a familiar black card. Lyrebird pass. This one is a little thicker and heavier than the one Emmeline gave me but it's still definitely a Lyrebird pass. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're just giving me... this? ~~CLARE~~ Yes. It is- what's the word? ~~IZZY~~ Reusable? No, not- ~~CLARE~~ What matters is that it won't get taken away from you when you come here the next time. [align left] *The next time*. It's like she's sure I'll be back. It's so out of nowhere that it's actually suspicious — or maybe I'm just on the edge. I squeeze the card in my hand just to feel the plastic bite into it and focus on the sensation to ground myself. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...why? [align left] Clare takes a step back. She looks at me with genuine concern. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ ...please don't take it too personally, but... I can see that you're not doing well alone. So, it's just my way of making sure that whenever you need to talk to someone... to me, to Izzy... the door will always be open for you. Alright? ~~IZZY~~ Yeah! I'm always here. Until I'm not. But most of the time, I'm here. [align left] It's an absolutely wild gift to get out of nowhere... but also, a really useful one. Getting temporary passes is, from what I've heard, absolute pain in the ass. And it's not like I wouldn't appreciate meeting up with Izzy here again, without all the Reed stuff over us. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...thanks. Really. ~~CLARE~~ No problem at all! Also, I had to go to the cafeteria and I had a little chat with Maria- ~~IZZY~~ `(quietly)` Love her so much. ~~CLARE~~ -and she told me you forgot to take this, so I thought I might bring it to you? [align left] She reaches into her bag again and takes out an apple. It's gorgeously dark red, turning almost purple in some places, and- Everything in my field of vision zooms out. I've seen it. I've seen it before in that stupid dream, the exact same fucking apple, and Clare's just standing here, cold lights of the corridor making her white coat *glow*, and... fuck, am I going insane? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Are you alright? ~~TIFFANY~~ No- I mean, yes, I am, I just... didn't sleep well. I think I need a nap or something. ~~IZZY~~ `(concerned)` Maybe you just gotta eat something sweet. That helps me. [align left] I take the apple from Clare's hand. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Thanks for the apple, Clare, and thanks for the hangout, Izzy, but I really need to go. [align left] I don't even give them time to reply; I just push past them both and make my way out of Lyrebird as fast as I can without looking suspicious. Was it overreacting? Probably, but I just know I couldn't stay there any longer. [[Maybe it's a really good time to go back to therapy.|Invitation]]

config.header.left: "12 - Invitation" config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" config.header.right: "October 22" -- ### I don't remember much from Monday. Tuesday isn't much better. When I come back to my dorm, I'm completely exhausted. I'm not entirely sure if it's because of the lack of sunlight or the lectures that seemed to stretch into infinity but something sucked life out of me, yesterday and today. My bed is providing more comfort than it ever did in the past few months right now, and honestly, that's all I need right now. I didn't talk to anyone I didn't absolutely need to talk to since last Sunday. This is absolutely abnormal for me but I need to conserve whatever little energy I've got to finally film some stupid video about how studying statistics is sooo fun when you use pastel highlighters and five different sets of stickers with cute animals which tell you "I'm proud of you!" because your mother never said that and you really fucking need it. For now, I'm sitting on my bed, scrolling, scrolling, scrolling through the endless feed of wonderfully mindnumbing content. Yeah, it's bad for you, brainrot, whatever, sometimes you need that. It keeps me from thinking about... *everything*. Mostly about Reed Verbrannt. If I wanted to, I could search them up on any given social media. I could see what they're up to now. It's kinda like wanting to check where a celebrity went after that one career-shattering incident because, in the end, life goes on beyond controversy, believe it or not. You still exist out there. We both know this place is absolutely crazy about privacy — that's, like, the main thing about it. The moment someone is gone from Passerine Hills (and I don't mean the graduates, obviously) they're meant to be *gone* gone, no contact; all to avoid accidentally spilling secrets to those who shouldn't know them. But the rules don't really mention just checking in on those who went void, or at least I don't remember reading about that. It's not like they would force me to have a walk of shame over simply finding someone on social media, right? That'd be insane. I make sure I'm not on my main accounts, just in case, and take a deep breath. The cursor keeps blinking for a while before I type. *Reed Verbena*. Fucking autocorrect. Backspace... *Reed Verbrannt*. Enter. Blank screen. Just loading... and loading... and loading. I reload. Loading, loading, loading. Third time's a charm. Reload... *You're offline.* I don't even get time to check what's wrong with my internet before someone knocks at the door. That's it. Outside, there's a guard who'll tell me to pack up my things. My collateral is already getting released. I'll have to go back to the world I tried to escape and everyone will know everything I never wanted them to know, and there'll be no peace, ever. I'm about to have my own walk of shame straight to the Passerine Hills' gates and everyone will watch- fuck, *Holly* will watch how another part of our Breakfast Club disappears and I can't even imagine how that might feel. It's over. It's so fucking over. I'm frozen with my phone in my hand, staring at the door I don't want to open. Maybe they can't get me if I don't open. Yes. That's so sane of me. I'll just stay here. They can't get me in my bed. They can't get me if I'm hidden well enough under my blankets and pretend to not breathe or have a heartbeat or just, like, live in general. [align center] ~~VI~~ Tiffany, you're there? [align left] Oh, okay, that was an unreasonable reaction. Who would've thought? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Coming! [align left] My body is currently in this wonderful state in which it shakes like jello but moves with the grace of a chunk of concrete, which is definitely not what you want when you need to get somewhere fast. The amount of sweat on my hands makes turning the door knob into an Olympic level challenge but I finally manage to do it. Vi's standing there in her heavy green coat. She immediately leans against the doorframe and reaches into her pocket. God, she can fit her entire hand in there, good for her. [align center] ~~VI~~ So- `(with mild concern)` You're alright? ~~TIFFANY~~ ...now I am, I guess. [if emvi11] Wait, oh no, that sounds like I'm flirting or something, doesn't it? It's giving "I'm better because I saw you", isn't it? Am I overthinking it? Vi's cheeks turn mildly red. She gives me a brief goofy smile, then clears her throat. [cont] [align center] ~~VI~~ Alright, good. Listen, I'll be quick: there's no Terrell Hall on Friday. [align left] I don't even know what to say. Terrell Hall on Friday is sacred. It's as sure as sunrise in the morning or hate comments after you dare to have an opinion on the Internet. Okay, maybe I've been there only for two months or so and it's too early to say that it's a tradition or whatever, but this was one constant thing that always happened, no matter what. What could even cancel something that Izzy fucking Terrell themself is responsible for? ...or maybe it's not the party that's cancelled. Maybe it's *me*. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(sounding totally normal about this)` Did you just uninvite me? Did I do something- ~~VI~~ Oh, no, seriously, don't worry. There's some maintenance happening this Friday so we can't go to the Terrell Hall, that's all. Sorry. [align left] Right. All of the buildings here are *really* old so they probably need to have someone look over them at one point. Obviously it had to happen at the most inconvenient time. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, uh, thanks for telling me. [align left] Vi doesn't say anything or leave. Instead, she looks around, then takes a step closer to me. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(whispering)` ...doesn't mean that you'll have *nothing* to do, though. [align left] She takes something out of her pocket and gives it to me. Looks like a business card. Thick cream paper. Really neat handwriting, that type you only see in letters and documents from the 19th century. *Tiffany Brigid Ragnell,* *You are cordially invited to the First Cameral at the Sparrow House. 8pm, Friday.* Whole damn government name, wow. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...fancy. Is there a dress code or something? ~~VI~~ No, don't worry about it. It's still casual, just smaller and in a chill atmosphere. A little more exclusive than usual. [align left] *Exclusive*. Sure, it might be this way only because Sparrow is way smaller than Terrell Hall and the selection of people has to be smaller... but I still made the cut and that's... honestly amazing. Can't help but wonder what the criteria was... [if clarecheck] ...and if Clare will be there as an infirmary volunteer, as always. She has to be, right? As much as I'm trying to not think about it too hard, the perspective of spending some more time with her is taking up a lot of space in my head. Obviously, I'm only thinking about it because she must be so lonely while on her little patrols and nobody should be alone at a party, it's a very social thing, I only want to keep her company- oh my God, I'm not fooling myself and I'm not fooling you either, am I? [if emvi11] ...and how the size of the party will affect Vi and Emmeline, since they're definitely going to be there. I mean, they're both always present at the Terrell Hall but Emmeline seems like she's dying every single Friday while Vi appears to be totally vibing in the crowd. I can't imagine that it'll be very different for Vi but maybe a more chill atmosphere will make it easier for Emmeline to relax? It'd be kinda neat to see her less... you know, *stiff*. Bet Vi would love to see that as well- wait, why do I even care? [if phonesearch] ...and if Holly will be there, too. I know, we're not supposed to talk until the Breakfast Club, but maybe I can steal a tiny moment during this party, just to make sure she's alright despite, uh, everything. It's not like we can avoid each other completely in a small space like Sparrow. Would that be breaking her boundary? Would she get mad at me for this? Am I overthinking? Perhaps! But I don't want to mess up more than I already did. All that I know for sure is that I miss her. [if izzycheck] ...and how deeply Izzy is involved. I know they're going to be there because you'd have to be stupid or socially illiterate to not invite them, I just wonder how much they're doing for this party. It's kind of hard to catch them normally on Fridays because they're either already talking to someone, distributing drugs and alcohol, or making sure that the right music plays... but it's all at the Terrell Hall. There are so many people that it's no wonder they're busy. Maybe in a calmer atmosphere, I'll be able to catch them and talk to them again? [if karaunlock] ...and if Kaja and Tara are coming. I haven't seen them at the Terrell Hall, except for the second party, and even then I only saw them for a split second. I think that they might've been avoiding the parties because of Tara, I mean, that'd make total sense. If she's prone to all those verbal shutdowns then maybe she's got other things going on and can't be in the crowds either? And Kaja wouldn't come without her. Maybe a chiller atmosphere will make things easier for them. I don't think they'd want to spend time with me specifically but... maybe? Depends on Kaja, I guess. [continue] [align center] ~~VI~~ Okay, I need to go. I still have so many people to visit. See you there! [align left] She winks at me before moving on. Once I'm back inside my room, I look through my window. There, in the distance, I can see just a glimpse of the Sparrow House. All of the other buildings in Passerine Hills are blinding white, or in the case of the library, a weird combo of blinding white... *something*, steel, and glass; Sparrow is all red brick, like the wall that separates the campus from the outside world. Isn't that kind of telling? Sparrow is for scholarship people, for the outsiders. Honestly, no wonder scholarships leave all the time if *you don't belong here* runs deep enough to result in an architectural middle finger like this. The light in one of the Sparrow rooms is on; it's Emmeline's, I know that much. For some reason she decided she wanted to be there instead of... anywhere else. I guess I can see the appeal. It's small. It's quiet. At this point in time, with Reed and Audrey gone, it's probably also the loneliest dorm room available in this place. ...yeah, it's not much better here, is it? I search for an absurdly long video essay about whatever and let it play in the background as I sit down by my desk, trying to determine what I should do next. After that scare I just had, I don't feel like trying to find out what Reed's up to anymore, so that'll have to wait for a better moment. Outfit planning for the party? I mean, exclusive parties might not mean that much to me anymore but it's an exclusive party *in Passerine Hills*, which is completely different. No, actually, first, I should probably eat something, I completely forgot about doing that. That damned apple Clare gave me is right there. I didn't eat it yet because- okay, it's stupid, but anytime I tried, I kept remembering that dream and it made things so awkward. I know I won't pass out, die, or disappear if I eat it... but there's something about it that still makes me feel uneasy. It looks too good. Too perfect. It's that kind of apple that sort of makes you think "you know, maybe I get why Eve from the Bible did what she did". Sure, it has an aura of supernatural consequences waiting to strike the moment you bite it around itself, but I really don't want to leave my room. I take it and bite into it before I can start overthinking, and it's exactly what I expected it to be. Just the right amount of crunch, just as sweet and juicy as you can imagine, and if this isn't your thing, well, too fucking bad because it's mine. I eat and I look around the empty, impersonal room that I live in, and as the sweet treat slowly comes to an end, reality hits me pretty hard. [[It's gonna be a very rough rest of the week.|TempOutro]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- Hearing this name is like getting thrown right into ice cold water. As fucked up as it might be, I kind of wanted to forget about that... and I can't deny, it feels weird to hear Clare admit that she loved them in some way. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Reed- Reed Verbrannt? ~~CLARE~~ You sound scared. ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry, I... I'm kinda disoriented. Like, I don't know what the deal with them is. I know they went void and Tara tried to tell me something about them but she didn't tell me a whole lot. [align left] Mentioning all the other things she said probably isn't a good idea. Clare closes her eyes and sighs deeply; the wind blows as if she summoned it with this sigh. Instinctively, I cross my arms to keep myself warm. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` Tara... She never liked me, that's fine... but I thought she's better than this. [align left] I think it's the first time I realize that whatever Tara was about to tell me could absolutely be tinged with... whatever her opinion on Clare was. In my defense, I didn't even know that Tara might have had any problems with Clare in the first place. Clare tightens her scarf around her neck and readjusts the messenger bag on her shoulder. She takes a glance at my crossed arms and gives me a small smile. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Let's keep walking. That'll warm you up. [align left] I didn't even notice that we ended up on the outer path — you know which one, it's that path that goes around the entire place and everybody avoids it because the guards nearby are always staring at you like you're a criminal. Naturally, I tense up because I might be innocent but I sure as fuck am anxious. Clare seems completely unbothered, or at least, she doesn't seem bothered by anyone watching her every step. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I started talking to Tara at the beginning of the year. We were both outsiders, I thought we might get along, and we did for a moment. But one day... [align left] Her eyes narrow as she focuses on some random guard. Their white uniform makes them stand out against the red brick wall that separates Passerine Hills from the rest of the world so it's not like they're hard to spot. For a moment, I wonder if Clare's trying to determine if they're listening to us. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ We talked about relationships and I was still a little heartbroken after Vi. I opened up about it and told Tara- maybe I shouldn't have said that, perhaps I went too far, but I told her I'm... jealous of her and Kaja. And she snapped at me. Started accusing me of some ridiculous things based on all the information I said only because I trusted her. ~~TIFFANY~~ Wait, she snapped at you after you said they're relationship goals? Seriously? [align left] Clare looks straight into my eyes and I slow down immediately. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(calmly)` Yes. That's what happened. [align left] I'm trying to find any sign of her lying — some muscle twitch, some tiny gesture — and I find nothing. Sure, she seems a little stiff but that could be because she's recalling something that was stressful to her. Other than that, she looks just like she always does. Even if it meant something, would she really lie to me with direct eye contact and all? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ That's... kinda crazy. Like, I bet you're not even the first person to tell her that. Also, if we're judging things we were talking about while being heartbroken, God, I should be in jail already. ~~CLARE~~ It's not even all of it... but we need to go back to Reed first. [align left] She sighs and looks away from me, up at the sky. All I can hear for a while is our steps, still perfectly in sync, and my own heartbeat pulsing in my ears. Can it, like, not? Not now, at least? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ When I fall for someone, I fall for them fast. With Reed, things were particularly intense. [align left] I keep forgetting that they used to be together. To be fair, I think it was meant to be a secret, I mean... Lyrebird girl with some random scholarship person who is, you know... *poor*? Unheard of. Maybe nobody will speak up but everybody — or almost everybody, since I literally can't care less — thinks the same thing. God, that's literally a romance novel plot, and not even a contemporary one, it's some 19th century shit, what are we even doing? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ You know they were on scholarship and they worked so hard to stay here but they were- they weren't psychologically prepared for the pressure, both academic and... you know, in relationships. Our standards of living are different from theirs and I think this made them feel inferior. This isn't a good combination for anyone's mental health. [align left] Her voice is quiet and calm but I can tell it's all an act. She already has her hands on the strap of her messenger bag — definitely a habit, in case you couldn't tell — and she's squeezing it tight. I imagine the rough texture of it against my palms and cringe inside because there's no way this can feel good for anybody. That's probably the point. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ It started getting to them. I tried to reassure them and help them out as much as I could but it didn't work. It actually made things worse. I tried to change my attitude but it was all for nothing because... [align left] She falls silent again. There's another change in the atmosphere; the air gets heavy again, just not in the same way as it did before. This time, it's clearly not any sort of tension between us — it's Clare's thing only. Her brows are furrowed and her eyes are narrowed, and it's quite obvious that there's some nervous bitterness in all of this. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(her voice shaking)` Because of Tara. She told Reed about all of those assumptions she made about me as if they were fact. She painted me as this... toxic, abusive person. Reed was already unstable but this- this tipped them over the edge. ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` Oh my God. [align left] What else can I say, anyway? This is an extremely fucked up situation that I can't do anything about. Clare sounds like she's on the verge of tears and I'm definitely not emotionally ready to help her in any way but what do I even do, tell her to shut up? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ One night- I invited them so we could talk it all out, so I could- so I could explain everything. I tried, I really tried- but they- I- [align left] She stops and takes a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut. Her whole body is mildly shaking, like she's trying to contain her emotions while they go completely insane inside of her. Every part of me is hollowed out and replaced with static. She's... scared. God, she looks so, so *scared*. It's like she's bracing herself for something terrible with those hands clenching her messenger bag so tightly that her knuckles turn white. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(softly)` Clare- ~~CLARE~~ `(whispered)` It was self-defense. I swear it was self-defense. They attacked me and I had to- *I had to*- [align left] I have to look away for a moment when I see the first tear fall. There's this instinct inside of me that tells me to run because emotions are an awkward, terrible thing... but it would be such a bitch move if I left someone who helped me out and opened up before me like this. It's obvious that it's not easy for her at all, that she tried her best to look strong in front of me, and it's not her fault that she couldn't take it. In fact, it's *my* fault because I was the one to bring this topic up in the first place... so it's probably also up to me to fix this. I have no fucking idea how to do this. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I'm sorry- I- I shouldn't- shouldn't have- [align left] No other word comes out, even though her lips are still moving. Before I can say anything, Clare inhales sharply for the last time and after that, she finally breaks down. It's quiet but absolutely horrible to look at. Tears just keep flowing and flowing down her cheeks which start to turn red already. She's clearly trying to calm her breathing but it comes out ragged, mixed with what's definitely poorly hidden sobs. Normally I'd just think it's all ugly and terrible, and I'd probably be right. The difference between this and all the other times I saw someone cry is that this time, it doesn't disgust me. It actually makes me *feel bad for her*. My memory brings me back to me having an absolute breakdown in Clare's own kitchen. How safe it felt to have someone hold me when I was at one of my lowest moments in my life. How great it was to have that little bit of comfort, even if everything else sucked at the moment. It'd be reasonable to assume that she'd want that repaid, right? In the worst case scenario, I'll just creep her out and she'll snap out of it to tell me to fuck off, which is probably still less awkward than this scenario. I put my arms around her and pull her into a hug. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ It's okay, Clare. It's okay. [align left] That's such an empty phrase but I have no idea what else I can tell her. She hugs me back tightly, not enough to knock the air out of my lungs, but close enough. God, she really needed it. I'm trying to not think too much but I can't help but wonder if that's what it felt like for her to hold me back then in Lyrebird: slightly awkward but ultimately, kind of satisfying in a weird way. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(quietly)` I believe you. [align left] And I really do. I don't have a reason not to. Okay, I have absolutely no idea why Tara would be like this and randomly decide to fuck Clare over but I've been around long enough to know that people might want to hurt others just for shits and giggles. Also, it was Clare who helped me out when I needed her, more than once now, actually. She was there for me when I was in absolutely pathetic positions this week and she was there for Holly, too. For fuck's sake, she's literally a volunteer first aid provider. Am I really supposed to believe that she'd be capable of doing something terrible? Yeah, I'll need more proof than a couple of cryptic sentences for that. Clare slowly calms down. I can hear it in her breathing and I can feel it when she stops shaking in my arms. Okay. Okay, great, I deescalated all of this, somehow, and I don't even mind the whole prolonged physical contact thing, which is incredible, and I'm definitely not thinking a lot about the fact that maybe, just maybe, I'd like to stay like this for a while longer because that scent of vanilla and something floral that she's wearing is nice and I might enjoy the softness, and- Uh oh. *Oh no*. I let go of Clare and fortunately, she doesn't protest. She looks like a mess and a half with that red face and eyes still glistening with tears. Nobody looks good right after they cried and don't get me wrong, she doesn't either... but also, she doesn't look ugly this way at all. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I- uh- I'm sorry, I didn't... want *this* to happen. ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, no, don't worry about that. Seriously. [align left] She gives me a tiny grateful smile and honestly, I'm not even gonna lie to you, that melts something inside of me that should ideally stay frozen. I hate it here. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Like, I literally made a whole scene in your kitchen. It's okay. [align left] Clare only nods and sniffles for the last time, then wipes whatever tears were still on her face. She's still smiling. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Is it alright if we end it here? I think... I think I need some time for myself. ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh. Oh, yeah, sure. [align left] Not like I want her to leave. I'd actually be fine with just walking around and doing nothing, believe it or not, but if she needs it, well, she just needs it. It was her big emotional moment in the end, not mine, so the decision should be hers as well. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I'll walk you back to White Crow? If you want, of course. ~~TIFFANY~~ If that's not, like, totally inconvenient for you- ~~CLARE~~ No no, it's fine, I'll have to pass by anyway, I just didn't want to assume- ~~TIFFANY~~ *I want to.* ~~CLARE~~ Alright. Alright, let's... let's go. [align left] The atmosphere is different on our way back, both infinitely more awkward and way more relaxed than before. It's all such a paradoxical mess but I still enjoy it. We don't exchange even a single word and that's completely okay because this silence is kinda comfortable, actually. I can feel Clare glancing at me from time to time and that tiny smile doesn't disappear at all. There's a weird, sour taste in my mouth the moment White Crow appears in my sight; it only gets worse when we get to the door. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ So, uh... thanks? For explaining what went on and answering the call, and... all of that. ~~CLARE~~ No problem. You can call whenever you need me and- oh, I almost forgot! I have something for you. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...you do? [align left] She nods with so much enthusiasm that I just can't help but smile, even though the world gets a little blurry on the edges as my heart tries to approach the speed of light. I watch as she reaches to her bag and takes out a familiar object: black card, gold lettering. I've seen this one before. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Lyrebird pass...? ~~CLARE~~ This one allows for multiple uses. So, whenever you want to visit me, you can just come and not worry about anything else. Just give me a call beforehand. [align left] I take the card. It's a little heavier than the one Emmeline gave me... or it could just be me imagining things. I trace the edges with my finger and it's definitely a little thicker. I look back at Clare to properly thank her and realize that there's now another thing I've seen before in her hand. An apple. Gorgeously red, to the point of almost turning purple in some places. You might call me crazy but it looked exactly like the one I've seen in my dream. It's obviously impossible unless I somehow manifested that into reality. If I *did* manifest that, though, wouldn't it make Clare... [align center] ~~CLARE~~ And, uhm... I took it just in case you might need something sweet... `(slowly)` I thought... [align left] She doesn't finish. I guess there must be some weird expression on my face I didn't even realize I'm making because she tilts her head a little and narrows her eyes, like she's confused. It's just for a short moment before she snaps back to reality. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Sorry, I just experienced a little... *déjà rêvé*. ~~TIFFANY~~ *Déjà*- what? [align left] Clare shakes her head like she's dismissing an unwanted thought. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Nothing. I'm sorry, it must be emotional fatigue speaking. [align left] Taking the apple from her hand feels so surreal. Like, it really feels like I did it before and I'm not sure if it's a good thing or a bad thing. As long as a bite from it doesn't send me to the fucking shadow realm, we should be fine. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Alright. So- thanks, again, really. Not gonna keep you standing here, go and... rest or something. ~~CLARE~~ I will. Take care. [align left] She turns around and I just stand there, staring at her as she walks away and disappears between the buildings. I don't even remember the whole road to my room but once the door closes, it's like my emotional battery drops straight to 1%, complete with my body screaming for a recharge. When I put everything I had in my hands on my desk and flop on my bed, I can barely think of anything. There's just a couple of loose thoughts that don't really connect except for that one string which brings me to the conclusion that I'm fucked in some cosmic, paranormal, unexplainable way. That alone is enough to make me remember that I probably should finally make a call and get back to therapy. [[Something tells me I might need it at one point and I really want it to shut up.|Invitation]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- I'm playing with fire here but it's so worth it to see the exact second in which Emmeline's soul leaves her body. She doesn't even know what to say. It's the first time I see *panic* in her eyes. Vi smiles and nods, though I have a feeling she knows she fucked up in a way. [align center] ~~VI~~ Right? I mean, my Christmas plans kind of blew up so Em's really saving my ass here, her and her, uh... ~~TIFFANY~~ ...parents? [align left] The death glare Emmeline gives me makes my skin crawl. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(through gritted teeth)` *Guardians*. I live with my *guardians*. Not everyone has *parents*, Ragnell. [align left] Oh my God. I always imagined Emmeline would have a pair of equally stiff and strict parents, the kind that would sign her up for piano lessons right after she was capable of sitting upright and made sure she got absolutely no contact with kids her age so that they don't "ruin her". It just made sense for her to come from some ancient family that has to uphold an incredibly long legacy of... whatever the fuck people like that do. Of course, that gets some questions going in my head but I'd have to be a real bitch to pry now, not to mention that asking anything right now would probably be borderline suicidal. Vi puts her hand on Emmeline's shoulder; surprisingly, or maybe not that surprisingly anymore, Emmeline flinches but doesn't move away. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry, I didn't know. ~~EMMELINE~~ Let's just forget about it. [align left] Aaand the atmosphere's all fucked again. This time Vi doesn't let the silence take over, though. [align center] ~~VI~~ Tiff, where are *you* going for the winter break? [align left] Yeah, no, it's definitely a bad time to say that I'm gonna spend it with my dad, right? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Gonna stay home, probably. I had some invites but they're all, like, totally beneath me. [align left] Vi nods with understanding. Emmeline just stares; her grip on her cup gets just a bit stronger. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Beneath you- you really would rather stay home? ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean, you're doing that too, aren't you? ~~EMMELINE~~ Touché, Ragnell. `(quietly)` You think a bit faster than I expected you to. ~~VI~~ `(whispering theatrically)` This is a compliment. [align left] Extremely backhanded one but I'll take it. I just smile and nod in acknowledgement. After all, it was rare, if not borderline impossible, for Emmeline to compliment anyone *at all*. Well, maybe she says nice things to Vi when nobody's watching... God, it's so weird to think about. It's really easy to believe that Emmeline doesn't feel like a regular human being does due to her... you know, acting the way she does, but I guess there's enough evidence to suggest that there *might* be something underneath all that cold. And Vi looks at me like she knows exactly what I'm thinking. Did she go through the same thought process before? Did she just start interacting with Emmeline and hoped for the best or could she just, I don't know, sense that she's not what she seems to be? I won't lie, I wouldn't even blink if you told me Vi's got some sort of a sixth sense going on when it comes to people. I'd rather not sit with this thought, though, because I might inevitably spiral into thinking what she sees in *me*. Emmeline opens up her briefcase — I never noticed how *old* it looks, it has to be vintage — and takes out a folder. Whatever is inside is clearly really interesting to her because she immediately stops paying attention to me or Vi. [align center] ~~VI~~ Right, uh... can I have a question? It's kind of personal. ~~TIFFANY~~ Depends. [align left] I'm not going to give a lot of information with Emmeline nearby, anyway. I'm not stupid enough to give her ammo she might shoot me with later. [align center] ~~VI~~ There's nothing going on with you and Clare, right? [align left] Rumors really are spreading fast around this place, aren't they? At least it's a question that I can answer even in front of Emmeline but... it's such a weird thing to ask. I remember how Vi asked me if Clare was *normal* just yesterday so there's definitely something going on. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're not jealous of your ex, are you? [align left] Emmeline is pretending to read but her eyes aren't moving. [align center] ~~VI~~ No, that's over and done... `(quietly)` *...graças a Deus*. ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, what's going on then? 'Cause first you ask me about her, then Tara comes to me and is all weird, then this- ~~EMMELINE~~ Go ask Verbrannt maybe. Oh! I forgot you *can't*. ~~VI~~ Em! [align left] Verbrannt. Reed Verbrannt. No matter how hard I try, I can't get rid of Tara's voice in my head, all monotone, repeating "she's a hunter" over and over again. No, that's not... [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Vi, you are heavily biased. We've never heard Verbrannt's version of the story and from what I've heard, the altercation between them and Dumont- ~~VI~~ Clare wouldn't- ~~TIFFANY~~ Can you just tell me what the fuck it's all about?! [align left] A couple of heads turn because I'm a bit too loud but I literally don't care. They're being too cryptic and they're taking way too much time with it. If it's really something that might be relevant to my situation in any way, they better start talking now. Emmeline and Vi briefly glance at each other. I can't read their expressions at all but I can tell that they're trying to determine what to tell me. [align center] ~~VI~~ Clare and Reed were together... ~~EMMELINE~~ ...and Verbrannt wasn't particularly stable... ~~VI~~ ...and Clare, she gets a little... ~~EMMELINE~~ ...overbearing with her affection, in a way which just happened to exacerbate Verbrannt's pre-existing issues. [align left] Unstable. Overbearing. Issues. Altercation. I'm trying to put it all together and all I get is the thought that I'd rather not know any of this, actually, but it's kind of too late for that. I take a sip of my coffee, waiting for them to continue, and it's warm but it no longer tastes like anything. The café suddenly gets completely blurry. Does anything feel like... anything? I hold onto my cup like it might save me, even though I know it's a lot to expect from an object. [align center] ~~VI~~ Clare's whole thing is that she gets... a little overprotective and Reed had some issues with paranoia, so it spiraled until Reed... snapped. [align left] *Snapped*. I want to ask so many questions but none of them come out of my mouth. Was that what the *altercation* thing meant? Did they fight? Was it serious? [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ I wouldn't say I was friends with Verbrannt but we were... *somewhat close*. They weren't always *compos mentis*, that's for sure, but they were adamant that Dumont is capable of manipulation and cruelty. ~~VI~~ Maybe we shouldn't leave out the fact that they were clinically delusional? ~~EMMELINE~~ Does that mean we should dismiss them? Statistically speaking, people experiencing- [align left] Their voices are muffled while I'm trying to process what I just heard. Emmeline's tone is consistent, calm and collected, while Vi sounds almost desperate. Her voice gets higher and higher, in a way that makes my throat hurt from listening alone because it just can't be good for you to speak like this for more than a couple of seconds. Almost as if she just read my mind, Vi starts coughing and Emmeline stops her monologue instantly. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ~ Oh God, you're alright? [align left] Vi nods and coughs a couple more times. Emmeline doesn't seem too concerned on the surface but I know she's not as unbothered as she wants to look. She tries to reach for her cup like she doesn't care but she's literally not even looking at it and almost knocks the whole thing over. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(kinda strained)` Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. `(normally again)` Listen, what we know is that things were tense between them and... something happened. Clare says Reed attacked her and she acted in self-defense, and I have no reason to not believe it. ~~EMMELINE~~ Vi, dearest, clearly nobody told you. Sometimes, people... `(with a gasp)` *...lie!* [align left] I laugh. Maybe it's because I don't know what to say, maybe it's because what Emmeline just said sounded funny, maybe it's because this whole conversation is fucking insane and I just don't know how to process any of it. Sure, I can't imagine Clare hurting anyone but as much as I hate to admit it, Emmeline's kinda right. Without talking to Reed, we only have one side of the story. Unless they magically come back to tell us what went on, we'll never really know, and isn't that terrifying? My lungs literally hurt because the laugh turned lowkey hysterical. I'm struggling to breathe while Vi and Emmeline stare at me; Emmeline squinting with her brow furrowed like she can't understand what she's seeing, Vi with her eyes wide open and eyebrows raised high, definitely concerned. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(after finally calming down)` No, sorry, just- it's all so fucked up, like- why would you tell me all of this? To scare me or what? ~~VI~~ No, I just want you to be... careful. [align left] There's no trace of sarcasm or anything like that that I can see in her face. She sounds weirdly soft, like she's talking to a friend rather than to, well, me. I can see how she briefly raises her hand to touch mine across the table, then puts it back, probably deciding that it's a bad idea. I don't know why but I kind of wish she went through with it — maybe it's just me being touch starved to hell and back. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ On my side, it's because I don't want any more drama this year. De La Torre's feud with Tai, Shigihara's walk of shame, Verbrannt leaving... and it's only October! *October*! ~~VI~~ `(mildly amused)` Maybe we'll calm down in November... ~~EMMELINE~~ I hope you will. It's *exam season*. [align left] With everything that's going on, I actually forgot that there's an exam season at all... as most people here, really. If there's anyone that cares, though, it'd probably be Emmeline, so I'm not surprised in the slightest. Maybe I'll see her in the library during the study days, I mean, I might not care all that much about my results but I want a taste of the academia aesthetic. Sure, I don't count on things calming down all that much but I can still hope that this might be the case. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...yeah, some of us came here to rest from the drama. [align left] Though I guess I won't be resting from that anytime soon. If Vi is right and Clare really has any kind of interest in me, I'm kinda fucked. The whole Reed situation sounds extremely messy and to be honest with you, I'd rather not get together with anyone who's even just accused of stuff like this, both for the sake of my safety *and* my reputation. If you think it's a brutal thing to cross things out like that due to what people might think, it might be because you've never had your every move watched 24/7. I still didn't recover from my previous relationship and the absolutely vile shit that was made up about it. Someone's default ringtone plays loud enough to nearly send me right into cardiac arrest. Emmeline sighs and takes out her phone. It's in a plain black case with a small charm of a coiled snake hanging from it; I'd never expect her to have something like this. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Hello? ~~VOICE FROM THE PHONE~~ `(on a loudspeaker, with a distinctive Southern accent)` Ka- *Emmy*, can you talk? Kate just called. [align left] The voice is soft and warm — definitely feminine — but Emmeline immediately tenses up like she heard some hardened criminal on the other side. Her face turns impossibly white again; I can't help but notice that Vi pales a little too. What would even warrant this reaction? [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(voice slightly shaking)` I'll call you back once I'm back in my room, alright? Can you give me ten minutes? ~~VOICE FROM THE PHONE, APPARENTLY SCARY???~~ `(no, seriously, they sound nice, what's the deal with that?)` Oh, are you out with friends? [align left] Emmeline stares at me for a while with an expression that I've only ever seen on cashiers who are absolutely not being paid enough for doing their job. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ `(with a sigh)` ...yes. [align left] Vi leans a little towards the phone with a really goofy grin on her face. [align center] ~~VI~~ Hi. ~~VOICE FROM THE PHONE, MAYBE NOT SCARY ANYMORE?~~ `(clearly excited)` Is this Vi? ~~EMMELINE~~ Yes- listen, I'll be back in ten minutes, alright? Ten minutes. [align left] She ends the call without waiting for the answer. Her cheeks are now totally red and normally I'd just chalk it up to embarrassment but... I can see the corners of her mouth twitching, like she's trying to fight back a smile. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ See, Ragnell, what do I have to deal with? Utterly incorrigible. ~~VI~~ `(softly)` You like me this way. [align left] Okaaay, the atmosphere gets a little uncomfortable. Like, I'm hardcore third-wheeling here and I definitely don't want to be. Before I can even say anything, Emmeline downs the rest of her coffee and takes her suitcase. Her expression is, once more, her default resting bitch face. [align center] ~~EMMELINE~~ Stay out of trouble, you two. [align left] With that, she marches out of the café. There's something different in the way she walks and I can't put my finger on it for a while until I realize that she seems a bit less... stiff. I take my coffee — almost cold at this point — and drink whatever's left in the cup. Vi does the same. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ So... what was that? ~~VI~~ Oh, that was Zelda- her, uh, *guardian*. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...okay. [align left] Not what I expected Emmeline's guardian to sound like but you know, at this point I should probably just stop relying on what I expect. Vi looks around and grabs her coat. [align center] ~~VI~~ I'm gonna go back. I still need to write that stupid essay- you wanna go back with me? ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, sure. [align left] I know I came here to get my coffee and a book but I'm... exhausted. It was a whole big conversation with so many emotional twists that I only really want to go back to my room and do nothing until tomorrow. We gather all of our things and head towards White Crow together. I guess Vi can sense that I'm tired because she doesn't say anything, only throwing me occasional glances, like she's checking if I'm alright. I wonder what she's thinking about. Maybe- [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Tiffany! [align left] ...yeah. Yeah, maybe that. Vi practically freezes and so do I; we just stare at Clare as she approaches, looking like a ghost in her bright white coat. My throat tightens a little when I notice how Clare's eyes narrow for just a split second when I see who's keeping me company. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Vi. ~~VI~~ Clare. [align left] The temperature went down by a couple degrees. I actually feel goosebumps forming on my arms. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Can I steal Tiffany for a moment? [align left] I expect Vi to look at me with an *I told you so* expression. I get a *say a word and I'll handle it* instead. That actually makes me feel a little warmer, maybe a little braver. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I'll catch up with you, Vi. [align left] Vi just nods slowly before she walks away, leaving me and Clare alone. Suddenly, I start to regret my decision. Why the fuck did I do this? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` So, uhm... I just wanted you to have it. [align left] She reaches into her worn out messenger bag and takes out two things: a violently red, almost purple apple, and an envelope. There's a bitter taste in my mouth when I realize that I've seen this apple before, and you can call me crazy, but this is the exact same apple I've seen in that dream I had. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Have a nice day. Call me if you need anything... or, you know. `(gesturing at the envelope)` Come to visit. [align left] I can't even reply before she turns around and practically runs back in the direction of Lyrebird. I make sure she's out of my sight when I take a look inside of the envelope. Black card, gold lettering. Lyrebird pass. I don't remember how I got back to White Crow and I don't remember what I was thinking all the way through. I snapped back to reality when I arrived at my door with the apple and the bent envelope in my shaking hand, and I found Vi there, leaning against the wall. She only takes one look at the items I'm holding. [align center] ~~VI~~ `(softly)` Everything alright? ~~TIFFANY~~ `(totally lying)` Yeah. [align left] I don't think she fully buys it but she nods, stepping away from the wall. [align center] ~~VI~~ If you need me, you know where to find me. Just a door away from Holly's. [align left] Just like that, she leaves me again. I guess at least I know I can count on her, if she really wants to help me with... whatever I might have to encounter in the future. If Vi is correct, and it seems like she is, Clare's into me for some reason, and that's awkward. [[But if all the Reed stuff is her fault, I'm probably totally fucked.|Invitation]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- I don't want to think about it too much because the implications legitimately make me want to throw up. Okay, Tara said she doesn't really have proof for any of this and that Reed didn't always make sense in their accusations... but it shook her enough to make her *talk* to me, even though it's really hard for her to do. As cryptic and weird as our first meeting was, she tried to warn me. In the end, I guess only Reed and Clare know what happened, and I can't speak to Reed now — we're not allowed to talk to those who left, after all. Also, if it's all true, it's not like Clare would admit to it. Tara takes a deep breath and takes out her phone; considering she doesn't have any bag of any kind with her, she had to pull it out of her dress' pocket. There's no case on it, just the phone as if she just took it out of the box, and I can't lie, this is kind of insane, but at least it looks like she takes care of it. She presses the side button and the screen lights up. No apps whatsoever, save for your typical built-in stuff like notes app. And, obviously, the wallpaper behind all of it: a photo of Kaja sitting on a windowsill somewhere, smiling softly. Her hair is a mess, her white shirt is buttoned only halfway through; the collar is definitely stained with a red lipstick. Well, that's an image that's gonna haunt me in my dreams. *Fuck*. There isn't even any time to react, I just get completely red in a split second. And of course Tara can see this, you'd have to be literally blind to not notice. She raises her eyebrows and smiles at me, definitely amused. Would roses kill me if I grabbed and ate some of them? If so, can they be nice enough to make it quick? Tara opens up the notes app. The keyboard that pops up is absolutely fucked up with letters in all the wrong places. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Just so you know, I'm not very possessive.] ~~TIFFANY~~ Girl, shut up- [align left] Wooow, incredible word choice! [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, I'm sorry, I mean- can you just *not*? [align left] Tara gives me one last amused glance before her face shifts back to its natural blank expression. So I guess she's not mad, at least. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Something happened between Clare and Reed. One version was that Reed lost it and attacked Clare, then left after they realized what they've done.] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...what's the *other* version? ~~TARA~~ \[That Clare was the one who started. Reed wanted to break up with her and be free, and she snapped.] ~~TIFFANY~~ Do you believe it? [align left] She lowers her head enough to hide her face and the phone screen behind her hair. Her hands move — she's typing. Deleting. Typing. Deleting. Typing. I wait because it doesn't feel right to watch as she gathers her thoughts, I mean, even you are getting only a filtered version of mine. It must be terrifying to have your whole process exposed in real time. Tara lifts her head up and shows me the screen. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[I don't know. What I know is that people who do terrible things often feel the need to atone for them in some way and I know what people who are under someone else's control are like. I can put two and two together.] [align left] Something shifts in the general vibe around us — she's not looking at her phone anymore but... *past it*. Her eyes gloss over; the light reflecting from her red dress mixes with yellow and makes it look like fire replaced her irises. When she types again, she's slower than before and her hands are shaking. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Trust me, I know.] [align left] She falls back into the cycle of typing and deleting while I sit here, trying to process the four words I just read. It clearly took more effort for her to write that and it doesn't take a genius to realize that it's personal. My heartbeat speeds up as I try to think of the specifics but let's be real: there's no need for that. I'm just trying to buy myself some time before it really kicks in. Because... there has to be a reason why Tara is... *like this*. There has to be a reason why she freezes up and stops talking, there has to be a reason why she speaks with this weird emotionless tone. If she knows what it's like to be in a fucked up, controlling relationship, and if she knows how people who do terrible things behave... she probably had to deal with this, right? Wouldn't that explain a lot? That's why she's trying to warn me, isn't it? Because she doesn't want me to go through the same thing she went through. I think about Kaja — at first, I kinda drift towards the uncomfortable thought that she might be the reason for it all but it just doesn't make sense for me. During that brief signing exchange they had yesterday, Tara's gestures were kinda sharp, sort of like a visual yell, and I might be wrong, of course, but it definitely didn't look like she's intimidated or scared. The other possibility that comes to my head is that Kaja is aware of what happened to Tara, which makes complete sense, and that's why they're everywhere together. I mean, Kaja *is* almost 6'5'' and fairly intimidating when she wants to be, maybe she's always around Tara for... I don't know, comfort and protection. Tara is still typing and deleting. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Tara, it's okay. Like, seriously, we can change the topic. [align left] I sound so soft that I have to take a moment to realize that it was really my voice and that it was me who said it all out loud. Tara seems to be just as surprised because she looks up from her phone and gives me a deer in the headlights type of a stare. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, don't look at me like that. The atmosphere's just getting too heavy, I wanna talk about something else. ~~TARA~~ \[You're sure?] ~~TIFFANY~~ Do I look like I'm not? [align left] She squints and tilts her head to the side like she's really trying to find the answer. After looking me up and down, she finally shakes her head. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Yeah, thought so. So, uh... [align left] Here's where my plan fails because I have no idea what to even talk about now. The burden of finding the topic is on me, unfortunately, but... does Tara even do smalltalk if she literally never speaks to people? She doesn't go to Terrell Hall on Fridays either so it's not like I can talk to her about that. I have no real idea about her outside of her career and, well, whatever she's got going on with Kaja, and that definitely doesn't make things easier because I don't think this is something I should be asking her about. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...where'd you get that dress from? [align left] She's curating a specific aesthetic with those dresses she wears, there's no way that she doesn't have a favorite brand or designer. I mean, she works with House Bonanotte so she might have some attachment to them but they've been weirdly abstract with their clothes when Sierra Bonanotte was in charge and then they got kinda bland when her sister Sienna took over, so there's no way it's a Bonanotte dress. Either way, I hit the jackpot with the question because Tara immediately lights up and gets to typing with incredible speed. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Custom Nanda Joshi :)] [align left] Yes, she types the smiley emoji while smiling herself and something about it is... cute. That type of cute that makes you feel a little warmer inside, which is weird, considering she's normally, well... you know. Unsettling. But she's sitting here, clearly happy that someone asked, and I can't deny, I melt a little. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Never heard of them. ~~TARA~~ \[It's niche for sure but it's what I like on the aesthetic level.] [align left] She taps the space for a while, probably because she wants to add something but doesn't know how to word it. Her smile disappears when she starts typing again. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Even if that aesthetic is a part of why people think I'm] [align left] She gestures vaguely and looks at me in hope that I get what she means. I unfortunately do. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Honestly, I don't think it's the style of the dresses, really. I mean, Holly wears similar outfits from time to time and nobody cares. It's more that you... you only ever wear them in black? Sorry, I need to say it, it's just giving funeral. [align left] Tara starts tapping the space again. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[I need to wear black. Colors mean things to me.] ~~TIFFANY~~ Sooo... you're serving funeral *on purpose*. [align left] She just nods without trying to clarify or deny it in any way. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ I mean... you do you. What's up with red, then? ~~TARA~~ \[A long time ago I had to] [align left] She pauses, then deletes what she just wrote. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Red is special. I made a vow some time ago. Today's the anniversary of that.] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(without thinking)` Like a wedding vow? [align left] Definitely shouldn't have said that but hear me out, it didn't come out of nowhere. I don't know where I remember that from but I know that red is a bridal color in India and- well, Tara and Kaja *are* literally living together, maybe they *are* secretly married or something, I honestly wouldn't be surprised at all. We're all adults here so it's not *impossible* and even if they didn't do this legally, they could do it symbolically, right? It's not like they're wearing rings or anything but maybe that's on purpose... and maybe that red makeup Tara always wears is her way of keeping things visible but discreet, I don't know. If I'm correct and they did all of this, they probably have a reason to keep it a secret- My heart stops for a moment. Oh. My God. What if that's their collateral? Can it even be shared? Does Tara think that it all went void? She probably does because she stares at me with wide eyes and her face turns about three foundation shades lighter — or just one, if the brand isn't as inclusive as it should be. After a short moment of shock, she starts typing so hard that I can *hear* every single character. After she's done, she practically shoves the screen into my face. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[NO!!!!!!] [align left] Just to make the point clearer, she adds more exclamation points, all while staring at me with an expression of absolute horror. It's almost like the perspective of someone thinking they're married is scaring her somehow, which... alright, I guess I can get it. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, okay, got it, Jesus! [align left] She lowers her phone and sighs, then starts tapping the space again, slowly and loudly; her lips form a thin line so I can tell that something is bothering her again. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, Tara- [align left] Suddenly, she types something with incredible speed and shoves the screen in my face once more, looking away. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[We're not together.] [align left] I swear I almost fall off the bench. To say that my jaw lands on the floor would be an understatement. Tara and Kaja are *not* together?! *Tara* and *Kaja* aren't in a relationship? They're literally almost inseparable, they live together, *they have a whole language only they understand*, and now Tara's telling me *they're not together*? At this point, is love even fucking real? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're kidding me, right? [align left] She sighs again and shakes her head; the sword-shaped earrings swing weirdly aggressively with each move. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[We share this life but not in this way.] [align left] Before she can take it away from me, the phone vibrates and a notification pops up on top of the screen. I know I shouldn't look at it but I do anyway. A text from Kaja that just says "TD or no? wrote you a poem." Oh, of course. They're not together. Just a situationship like many others. They just share a room and share a life, and Kaja writes Tara fucking poems, all of which is not a big deal at all. The last time I was in a legit, true relationship, my ex forgot about my birthday because it's too close to Christmas. Cool. Incredible. ...okay, I need to calm down. I already put two and two together and realized that Kaja and Tara's lives — or the life they share, as Tara said — can't be all that great due to some sort of messed up events in the past. Maybe they're not in a relationship officially because of all the baggage and trauma that goes with it... maybe Tara reacted so strongly when it came to the marriage thing because of it all. Being jealous of that doesn't feel right. Tara texts back — she doesn't hide the screen so I can see that the only thing she says is "NATD :c" — and gives me an indecipherable look. For a moment, I wonder if she can somehow tell what I was thinking about, even though I know it's impossible. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[Do you want to go back to White Crow with me?] [align left] I don't know how to explain it but she seems a little sad, almost like she's already prepared to hear "no". Truth be told, I don't really want to stay here anymore and I think that going back to my room to process everything I just learned today might be good for me. Also, I kinda don't want to leave Tara alone after the emotional rollercoasters I made her go through. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Sure, why not. [align left] She smiles at me, clearly happy with the answer, and puts her phone back in her pocket. Before I know it, she stands up and after a bit of hesitation, she offers me her hand to help me stand up as well. I don't like to touch people I don't know that well but there's just something about Tara in this moment — could be the smile, could be that spark in her eye I have never seen before, could be the fact that she looks kind of happy — so I take her hand. It's soft and *hot* like she's got a fever. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ You're alright? Your hand- [align left] She releases my hand and nods. Without a sound, she heads towards the conservatory's exit and I follow her out just like I followed her in. We're quiet on the way back. Occasionally, Tara takes her phone out and types for a while, then puts it back in her pocket. It's probably all messages from Kaja and I can't help but wonder how does this relationship even work. Can't deny, I'd love to hear Kaja's part of the story, though I doubt she'll ever want to give me that. Oh, and of course, the crushing realization that something might be terribly wrong with Clare keeps crawling back to me, I almost forgot about that. As soon as we're near White Crow again, I see a figure in white exiting the building. My heart stops for a second. Could it be her? What would she be doing here, anyway? Searching for me? Am I getting paranoid? Before I know it, we're stepping into the White Crow lobby. The receptionist — a brunette whose name I literally can never remember — clears her throat to make sure that we notice her. [align center] ~~MISS WHAT'S-HER-FACE~~ `(where's her nametag?)` Miss Ragnell, there's something for you. [align left] I can't help but sigh so, so deeply. If it's another shitty PR package for another celebrity makeup brand, I'm going to scream. Tara gives me a sympathetic look and takes out her phone, types, then shows me the screen. [align center] ~~TARA~~ \[I guess I'll go now. We should talk more sometime soon.] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...we should? ~~TARA~~ \[We should. You intrigue me.] [align left] Before I can say anything, she turns the screen off and turns around. I watch as she goes up the stairs until What's-Her-Face clears her throat again, probably because she thinks I'm ignoring her on purpose and not thinking about what Tara just told me. When I turn around, What's-Her-Face is holding two things: a white envelope in one hand and... an apple. Gorgeously red, almost turning purple, and... call me crazy but I've seen it before. In my dream. It was the apple from my dream. [align center] ~~MISS WHAT'S-HER-FACE~~ Miss Dumont asked for this to be delivered to you. [align left] Miss Dumont. Clare. So that figure in white... ...oh my God, I feel sick. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Uh... thank you. [align left] She just nods as I take the apple and the envelope, both weirdly heavy in my hands. The rest is a blur. I run up the stairs, get to my room, close the door — open the door — close the door again, just to be sure, then I slide down onto the floor. My hands shake a little when I rip the envelope open. A familiar black card and a note fall out. Lyrebird pass. She gave me a Lyrebird pass. There's also a note, written in what's most likely Clare's handwriting. It says "In case you want to talk to somebody, my door's always open! If not, I hope you like the apple! ‒Clare". If Tara is wrong about Clare, it's just a nice gesture. [[If Tara is right about Clare, though, I'm unimaginably *fucked*.|Invitation]]

config.footer.left: "[[Lore|Info]]" -- For a moment, I don't even properly understand what's on my screen because my thoughts go completely blank but as soon as it hits me, I click away. The totally normal human being part of me is screaming inside because there really isn't a good way to react to literal nudes of your alleged bestie, especially when you find them while snooping around her phone without her knowledge. The influencer part of me is screaming even louder because pictures like this are best deleted before they even exist and if they have to exist, they should be kept either behind a massive paywall or in a safe that's buried six feet under a cold war nuclear bunker to minimize any chances of them ever leaking to the public. Because if it fell into the wrong hands- My thoughts slow down again as I stare at the screen that now displays the last available file — an extremely blurry photo of the Terrell Hall from October 18th. Oh. Oh my God, what if... It would make sense, right? That's why she wanted to smash this phone into pieces — not like it worked but maybe she thought it'd be enough. Emmeline said that Holly was in distress when they talked, after all... and she said that Holly seemed like someone who's struggling with something bigger than just your regular Passerine Hills stuff. Maybe someone got their hands on it all, somehow, Holly snapped, and in this state, she ran to Emmeline because, let's be real, regardless of her reputation and general bitchiness, she *is* solving problems. That's why Holly looked so embarrassed when I asked her what happened and decided to not tell me straight away. I turn my laptop off and shove Holly's phone into my drawer; something inside makes a slightly concerning noise but I can't care less. This is... fucked. This is so incredibly fucked. What am I even supposed to do with it all? Like, seriously, what are the next steps to take here? I briefly imagine how this convo would go. *Hey, so, sorry in advance, but I kinda went through your phone and, you know, saw those pics of you- yeah, I know I've been a terrible friend all along and now I fuck up again by violating your privacy- I care about you, okay? Yeah, I know I didn't show it in literally the entire run of our friendship and what we had up to this point was superficial, and sure, maybe it took you screaming at me to realize that, but you know, I care about you, now that I know I might lose you at any moment, haha. Anyway, is someone blackmailing you or something? Should I cancel them for you, queen?* I mean, she said she'll tell me what happened but it doesn't take away from the fact that *I already know*. I'm a good enough actress to feign confidence and all of that but I'm not sure if I can play as someone who's completely unaware of something as messed up as this. Not to mention, pretending that everything is alright until something comes up is the exact same thing that brought this whole relationship to the point of not even talking to each other. Should I just go to her room and tell her that I know? No, no, that's not the way to go. I'm panicking right now and I shouldn't be making any decisions in this state. There's still around a week until our meeting for Breakfast Club. I can totally figure out what to do in this time while still giving Holly some space. She can come and talk to me if she wants the silence to end earlier, anyway. Yeah. Yeah, I just need to wait until Saturday morning and decide what has to be done after, even if it's gonna kill me. I stare at the ceiling for a good moment. What is Holly doing now? I imagine her in her room, hugging her cat plushie while being all curled up on the semi-clean floor — she always said that it calms her down. Sometimes, she'd just lie down while we had Breakfast Club meetings; one time, she fell asleep there as Audrey was detailing some encounter she had with Brett Hawthorne, our resident weird guy, and we only realized once she started snoring. I laugh because it's funny how distant it feels now, like something I saw in a dream or in a movie a long time ago. Just three girls in one room, random gossip after last night's party in the morning, little things that will stay in your head forever just because you had a good time. I don't know if it's possible to feel nostalgic for something that only happened two months ago or so but if it is... guess that's what's going on with me right now. Is Holly remembering all of this in her room too or is she worrying too much to even think about it all? Is she thinking about me like I think about her? God, hope she's not. The knock on my door almost gives me a heart attack. It can't be her, I know it on some subconscious level, but I still stand up so fast that I almost trip. The whole thing made me incredibly dizzy and I barely even noticed. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(in a pathetically weak voice)` Oh my God- wait! [align left] I take a couple of deep breaths until everything stops spinning. Some part of me really hopes that she's standing right outside of my room. She'll tell me that she's been thinking about me too and that she wanted me to know the truth about everything that happened, and I'll listen as I always should have, and make sure to let her know I'll help her out in whatever way I can. I open the door. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Uh... hi. [align left] It's just Clare. She's here in her short white coat, hands tightly clenching the strap of her worn out messenger bag, like she's afraid of something. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Clare? What are you even doing here? ~~CLARE~~ I wanted to check in on you. You weren't doing so great after that argument and I haven't seen you around, I thought... something might have happened. I already visited Holly and- ~~TIFFANY~~ `(without thinking)` Come in. [align left] Clare's eyes widen; she clearly didn't expect me to invite her and to be honest, neither did I, but she talked to Holly so she has to know how she's doing, right? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Sit wherever, I don't care. [align left] I open the door a little wider and move out of her way. She takes a couple of unsure steps, looking around to try and find the best place to sit before choosing my bed. I mean, okay, I guess, not like she's a stranger to sitting there. God, that sounds wrong. I get to my chair so that there's some distance between us. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ How is she? ~~CLARE~~ ...quite well? If I didn't see her yesterday, I'd think nothing happened... perhaps the medication finally started working as it should, the first two weeks tend to be- ~~TIFFANY~~ ...medication change? [align left] Clare stares at me like she's trying to figure out if I'm kidding. Once she realizes that I'm not, she covers her mouth with her hand. *She definitely wasn't meant to say that*. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I thought you knew...? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have- I thought- since you're friends- [align left] *Since you're friends*. My chest is full of tiny needles and everything *hurts*. If Tara is right and there is something seriously wrong with Clare, I hope she shows it now and murders me or something. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(totally not like I'm in pain)` Just tell me. ~~CLARE~~ `(quietly)` I shouldn't talk about it at all... but... but I can see you're worried, so... please, don't tell anyone you know that from me. ~~TIFFANY~~ Promise. [align left] She just wrings her hands for an entire eternity. I want to scream at her to just let it out but, first of all, I can't force even a single sound out of myself, second: I probably shouldn't scream at someone who's hesitating to talk to me. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ She's chronically depressed. That's what the medication is for. [align left] That explains why she looked so dead in all those pics from before. It wasn't *just* because of what happened to Audrey, though it probably made things way worse. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Oh my God, just kill me. [align left] I definitely didn't mean to say it out loud. Clare looks at me, eyes wide, face even paler than usual. It's like she actually thinks I mean it. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ `(barely audible)` Pardon? ~~TIFFANY~~ Sorry, I... I *fucked up*, Clare. Like, I didn't even know- if I didn't know she's struggling like this, what kind of friend am I? Like- like, I just... I need to fix everything and I don't know how, I've never fucked up like this before, I- I- ~~CLARE~~ `(softly)` Tiffany. Breathe. Slowly. [align left] I do and it helps somewhat — that uncomfortable feeling in my chest doesn't disappear but it gets a little less harsh. Is it guilt? Anger at myself? I'm not entirely sure. Could be both. Clare simply stares at me; she tilts her head upwards when I breathe in and downwards when I breathe out. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ This is- it's such a stupid question, but- how do you show someone that you care about them? [align left] She traces the edge of her messenger bag's strap with the tips of her fingers. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I think that a big thing is just *listening* to what they have to say. Most people will more or less consciously tell you about their interests and worries, and it's easier to... proceed from this point. That is, you need to *listen* to them, not just *hear* them. [align left] So, just like Holly did for me. It's so weird to listen to Clare explaining everything as if it's not Relationships 101 but as we all know, I kinda failed that class, so a little remedial course won't hurt. I wonder if Holly had to learn it just like I'm learning it right now or if it came to her naturally — probably the second. Then again, I don't really know her that well, do I? [align center] ~~CLARE~~ That's the hard part, so if you have it all under control, everything else is easier. Keep them in mind. Show up for them, help them whenever they need you. It doesn't have to be anything big. Sometimes it's the small things at the right time that matter the most. [align left] So many things come to my mind at once. That invitation to the first Terrell Hall party. Holly knocking on my door to make sure I'm not late. Paper cups filled with coffee that she brought me because she just passed by the café and thought about me. That one time I accidentally drank a little bit too much at a party and she got me some water while I rambled about my mother. That other time when she let me hug Dolly for a while because she thought it might cheer me up, even though she never let anyone else even touch her. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ ...little things are easy to miss if you don't pay attention. ~~CLARE~~ They accumulate. You might not remember the individual parts but you'll remember someone did a lot for you. ~~TIFFANY~~ Right. [align left] Clare seems to be lost in thought for a while. She absentmindedly touches the blanket that's folded next to her. Seems like touching things helps her focus so I keep quiet, even if I don't really like it. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ Just keep your eyes open. Everything will be alright in the end. I promise. ~~TIFFANY~~ You think so? ~~CLARE~~ I know so. I have a good feeling about it all. Holly seems... malleable. ~~TIFFANY~~ ...malleable? ~~CLARE~~ Did I use the wrong word? I meant she's open to change. If you switch your attitude, she'll probably forgive you. I can't guarantee she'll forget... but I'm sure she'll forgive. [align left] It kind of hurts to hear at first and my instinct is to get angry but when I ask myself why, I can't come up with an answer. It's probably just entitlement speaking; some part of me would want my fuck up to be buried deep and never mentioned again but that's not how it works. If I were Holly, I'd want to have my right to never forget it all, so, it'd be kinda hypocritical of me if I didn't let her keep it in her memory, right? [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Okay, I get it now. Thanks for it all- for talking to her, too. Really. ~~CLARE~~ It's nothing. I just want you to be alright. [align left] She looks around the room before opening her messenger bag. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I almost forgot what I came for... [align left] Before I can ask anything, she hands me a white envelope. I take it, mostly because I don't know what else to do with it, and look inside. Black card. Gold lettering. Lyrebird pass. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Clare, what- [align left] My voice gets completely stuck in my throat as I see the second thing she took out of her bag. An apple. Gorgeously red, to the point of almost turning purple in some places. That stupid dream I had comes back to me and it has an emotional force of being hit by a freight train. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I thought I might bring you something sweet to cheer you up. And the pass... it's so you can visit me anytime you want. I don't want you to feel alone. [align left] It's dumb. It's so fucking dumb but the world is still spinning and I'm not entirely sure what to say. I take the apple and I put it on my desk, next to the envelope, and I know I should say "thank you" or something but the only thing that comes out of my mouth is... [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ Why? [align left] Clare closes her bag and stands up. She dusts off her long red skirt and gives me a look I can't quite decipher. [align center] ~~CLARE~~ I gave you a whole lecture about the reason why. ~~TIFFANY~~ I- ~~CLARE~~ I'd love to stay but I think you might need some time alone. Take care. You have my number and a pass in case you might need me. Have a nice day. [align left] With that, she walks straight to my door and leaves before I can even say anything. All that's left of her is the envelope, the pass, the apple, and a faint lingering scent of vanilla. It's a lot. Everything I learned, this entire conversation, the weight of knowing how badly I fumbled, that stupid dream that I keep being reminded of whenever I even glance at that apple on my desk, it's all way too much. So I do what Holly would do. I get out of my chair and lie down on the floor. It's not cold or anything but it's hard and somehow, that alone makes my thoughts a little clearer, even though it also makes me aware of every single bone in my body. And I can almost see Holly right next to me. She's wearing that pink sweater I hate but, you know, it's her fucking sweater and she clearly likes it, so maybe I should shut up. Her hazel eyes still have that spark in them. Her hair curls just like it should. Her lip isn't bitten raw, her knuckles aren't scraped. She looks at me, her pink eyeshadow glittering in the daylight, and I know she's just in my imagination and all but something about even imagining her being next to me calms me down a little. Like everything will be alright again. [align center] ~~TIFFANY~~ `(whispering)` I know I fucked up. I'll fix it. Promise. [align left] Imaginary Holly just smiles; I can't tell if she does so with pity or not. When I blink again, she's gone. I stay on the floor until the thought that I might stay there forever starts entering my head, almost like I'm counting on her reappearing. She doesn't, of course. Two thoughts. One: this is going to be an awfully long week and I'm not looking forward to any of it. [[Two: maybe going back to therapy wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.|Invitation]]

# I'M STILL WORKING ON IT PLEASE RESET YOUR GAME THANK YOU if you're here because you're checking the code please for the love of gods don't I don't know what the fuck I'm doing