[GAU] Sound of Music (Trevor, Marco, Konrad cameo) 1/29/15

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[GAU] Sound of Music (Trevor, Marco, Konrad cameo) 1/29/15

Postby Laurel » Tue Feb 10, 2015 1:33 am

<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(1/29/2015 3:03:16 PM) (2015611)

It was a great plan.

Cheerleaders are hot. Jocks are douchebags. These are two irrefutable laws of the universe.

Now I’m a two birds with one stone kind of guy. So screw ‘em both I say. Okay, so maybe not the <i>exact</i> same stone. It’s more of a... You know what? You know what I’m saying right? Yeah you do.

So I’m hooking up with this cheerleader in the guys changing room. I figured her boyfriend would come in at about the time to leave her wanting more and him wanting none of that.

Instead I get the whole team coming back from practice.

Well shit.

I really should have paid more attention to the coin flip this morning.

So I’m out there like the flash, in more ways than one. Running while pulling your pants up is an artform. And I don’t mean to brag but I’m pretty much Picasso. It also turns the hallways into parkour, which is a lot of fun.

Anyway, there I am running down the hallways, football team in still full gear charging after me. I swear to god these guys must be part bloodhound. Must be why they’re such dogs. Ugly bastards. But there’s just no losing them.

Yelling, crashing, scrambling, waving at the the fine ladies I pass. It’s all very exciting. Eventually though I manage to gain just enough distance where I can round the corner and throw myself into the first classroom I see.

I slam the door shut behind me, pressing my back to it and glance around the room frantically even as I hear the herd of buffalo stampeding my way. Come on Fate don’t fail me now. What have you given me to work with here?


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(1/29/2015 3:27:34 PM) (2015625)

If someone were to ask me if all cheerleaders were hot and all jocks were douchebags, I would say that while statistically speaking that was true most of the time, there would always be exceptions- because the only truth is that nothing is true- but everything is possible (or permitted).

The Magus by John Fowles is one of my favorite postmodern novels. It is also the origin of that phrase, sorry Assassin Creed fans. It is possible that somewhere in the universe, there is an ugly cheerleader and there are football or basketball players that I could sit down with and have a discussion on existentialism, one who would know more about the topic than the Wikipedia blurb describing it as a philosophical theory or approach that emphasizes the existence of the individual person as a free and responsible agent determining their own development through acts of the will.

However, no such male athlete exists at my school- and of the seven cheerleaders I've had sex with since I was a sophmore? All of them were incredibly good looking. None of them was interesting enough to actually date- and on three occasions? I got the living crap beat out of me by angry jealous boyfriends when the girl threw me in their face. It was worth it every time. I took my revenge in petty ways.

So while I would sit with a mocha vente or a rum and coke and argue with Tyrim for hours over that use of 'irrefutable' in his paradigm of the world of high school? When I see him run into the classroom in that particular state? I happen to be a teacher's aide and I'm grading freshman math papers. I know exactly what happened to him and why.

"You never, never do it in the locker room or behind the bleachers. There's this closet in the choir room where they keep the gowns and the lock is broken." I don't even pause in making red marks over some luckless fourteen year olds bizarre attempts to answer basic alebraic formulas in Yiddish. I do however look at the clock. "You've got nine minutes before the bell. They are so going to be hunting you down for the rest of the day. What will you give me to help you out of this mess, Benson?"




<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(1/29/2015 3:43:32 PM) (2015628)

Okay. There’s Marco. Some cabinets in the back. Lockers too. Marco. Desks. Marco.

MARCO.

Wait.

That doesn’t help me. Or maybe it does. He starts talking and it could go either way. God damn it Marco just be a bro will you?

I’m already diving under one of the nearby desks as he starts talking. “Only if you want to not get caught. Sometimes it’s just as much about sticking it to the man as it is sticking it to the woman. Not literally of course.” This isn’t going to work.

I stick my head up from underneath the desk. “Or maybe it is, if that’s your thing. I won’t judge.”

“Wait a second.” I jump up and point at him accusingly. “You’re the asshole that left that stain in the closet? You son of a bitch! I sat in that. Do you have ANY IDEA HOW HARD THAT IS TO GET OUT OF SATIN?!”

There’s a moment of silence. The world stops. I can hear everyone slowly turning to look at me. Including me. I probably shouldn’t have yelled like that.

Well shit.

This time I dive under the desk he’s sitting at. I don’t even ask him to move, though that leaves a moment where I have to kind of do this wriggle-squirm thing to get between his lap and the desk. So much no homo.

“I’d say not sleeping with your sister but it might be too late for that.” This probably isn’t the time for a jab but I can’t help myself. It’s not true of course but I wouldn’t object if it were. Damn she’s a fine piece of ass.

FOCUS TREVOR. FOCUS.

“Well from down here I could do a lot of things.” I’m folding my legs against my chest to cram myself under here but I still manage to look up at him and waggle my eyebrows. I’ve got a whole pile of no leverage here. I’m already reaching into my pocket for the coin.


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(1/29/2015 4:18:50 PM) (2015647)

"None of you saw that," I inform the handful of freshmen who are sitting at their desks wide-eyed. I make a hand motion in the air. "None of this is actually happening."

They look at each other- and proceed back into whatever conversations or phone texting or reading was going on before and it does appear that everything the two of us thereafter say or do is actually being ignored by the freshman. I'm too engaged with Tyrim to really think about the fact this is suspicious. Freshmen live for overhearing upperclassmen have these kinds of moments.

"I would never stain the satin," I inform him with a completely straight face as he lapdances for a moment and then vanishes. "Hmm, you've got kind of a tight ass, Benson. What do you mean not your thing? You are the epitome of the word <i>heteroflexibilty</i> You reek of trysexualism and intransitivity." Then he speaks of sex with Lilly. I start to laugh.

"Please. Be -that- boy. I dare you."

I glance at the clock on the wall. We just wasted four of his minutes with banter. I spot his hand going to his wallet. "Oh please. My father is a corporate lawyer. I don't want your money, Benson. I want you to owe me a major favor." I scoot back my chair.

"Remember, none of you are seeing this," I tell the classroom of pubescents who ignore me utterly and I walk over to the windows. Luckily we're on the first floor of the school, with windows that do indeed open and with effort, I pull it back and make a gesture towards the parking lot. "Head to the dark blue Honda Civic in the thirteenth row, with a Darwin fish on the back bumper. I'll meet you there."

And I walk out into the hallway and put two fingers in my mouth and whistle. A pissed off jock down near the bathroom whirls around. I point to the French class. "He went in there."

I move towards the nurses office and knock on the door and the receptionist looks at me. I smile at her. "Tracy, someone slipped my friend Trevor Benson some laxative in his chocolate milk during lunch. Its... its really, really bad. Could you possibly excuse us both so I can drive him home and take care of him? I really don't want the people who did this to get away with it and there's no way he can get in here himself right now."

Five minutes later, I'm walking out the front door of the school with two passes, a free half-day, and a smile on my face. Benson might not be waiting at my car. Doesn't matter. He now owes me a favor and I have an afternoon to do anything and everything without any consequences.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(1/29/2015 4:45:43 PM) (2015662)

So Marco is a Jedi. That’s good to know. Pretty cool too. I mean I can get a little lucky sometimes. Okay, I get really lucky all the time. But the point is: Jedi? Pretty much badass.

“Favor? Who’s the heteroflexible one now Rivale?” I grin at him but then I’m peering around from under the desk. I half expect the hounds to be waiting for me. Steam blowing from their noses and everything. Coast is clear though.

I jump up to my feet and follow him to the window. “I suppose I will owe you one though.” Then I’m nodding quickly as he explains where his car is. The coin in my pocket comes out and I’m rolling it between my fingers absently.

I glance between him and the window as he leaves. Window. Marco. Marco. Window.

“Hey Rivale.” I call to him just as he’s leaving, looking back over my shoulder at him. I raise a hand up and bring it down to smack my ass hard, then give it a little wiggle. “Tight doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I suddenly glance over and wink at one of the freshmen girls nearby. I even blow her a little kiss.

Then I go for the window.

The coin leads the way, flipped through the air as I dive forward to catch it. I hit the ground with a roll and bounce to my feet, striking a gymnasts pose. I can almost hear the judges giving me a 10 out of 10. Damn I’m good.

A moment of basking before I bust my ass across the lawn like it’s on fire. There’s no saying how good Marco’s plan is. I mean, he’s good, but he’s not <i>me</i>. It’ll have to do though.

Godspeed Marco. Godspeed.

I’m sitting on the trunk of his car when he gets there. Clothes are fixed, hair gelled back into place and there’s a cigarette dangling from my lips. Not quite the way I’d planned to have a smoke today but better late than never.

“I’m pretty sure you’d be disappointed in me if I <i>weren’t</i> that guy Marco. I sure as hell would be.” No I don’t wait for him to cross the parking lot before I’m yelling at him.

“Some men aim to scale Everest. That’s weak. I want to scale every everest.”

I stand up, foot on the bumper, and raise my hands dramatically. “Climb everyyyy mountain!”

Yeah, I’m singing the Sound of Music. I’m in the fucking drama club. Get over it.

Then I whirl around and grab him. “Ford everyyy streeeeeeam.” Come on Marco. Don’t leave me hanging bro.


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(1/29/2015 5:08:06 PM) (2015681)

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship." Those were my parting words to him after he spanked himself.

"Benson, I say this for the sake of your own soul. Lily might be good to look at and she's smart and sarcastic and not half as shallow as she pretends to be. But you do not want to go there with her. Not because I'm going to threaten you. No, because behind that $32 a stick Rouge Dior Lipcolor in Ara Red 999 smile of hers? There is a soul-eating, ball-breaking hellspawn just waiting, eagerly, for a man to make and break into her own personal Stepford husband."

I hop up on the bumper with him, wrapping one arm around his side and putting the other one out in a matching gesture as his own.

"Follllllowwwww every rainbowwww,"

What? You know I'm in drama club too right?

"Till you find your dreammm."

I hand him his free day out of school pass and steal his cigarette, taking a puff off it and handing it back. "Just so you know, your cover story is ex-lax in your chocolate milk. You shit yourself and I'm taking pity on you."

And then I push him off my car and walk around, using my electronic key to unlock it. "You can sing, but if you mess with my Sirius radio, you owe me a blow job."






<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/29/2015 5:16:25 PM) (2015702)

It's another annoying day at school. Another day of putting up with idiots and immature jerks. And here I am, walking back across the south parking lot after sneaking off to McBurgerQueen for lunch... and there's a pair of idiots shouting across the lot and singing show tunes to one another. I don't even look over to see who it is. I don't care who it is. I just want to get back inside in time for AP Calculus.

I swear, the sheer level of retarded in this place gives me heartburn sometimes.




<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(1/29/2015 5:22:03 PM) (2015713)

I admit I wasn’t expecting him to break out into song with me. I mean do you have any idea how often people leave me hanging? It’s bullshit. Uncultured heathens the lot of ‘em.

THIS GUY IS FUCKING AWESOME.

Well played Marco. Well played.

My arm goes around his waist and we finish the number together. Because that’s how bros do. They duet in the fucking parking lot like it’s going out of style. Some straight out of Glee shit. There’s even a little bit of sway with the tune.

Right up until the cover story comes out.

“You sonofabitch! EX-LAX?! MY GOD MAN WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! COCKBLOCKED FOR DAAAAYS.” I fall to my knees. There’s even a bit of a whimper as I clutch to the door handle dejectedly.

My vengeance upon him will be swift and without mercy.

“So what you’re telling me is your sister is a challenge?” I’m sitting in the car now. “‘Cause really, who needs a soul? I mean if that were a deal breaker would I be sleeping with cheerleaders?”

“Honestly it sounds like she’s like cheerleaders but better. In pretty much every way. Except the skirts. Though I could probably steal one of those. Hell you could afford to buy one. Or she could. Would it be awkward if you bought your sister a cheerleader outfit for me to have sex with her in?”

“A lesser man might be broken Marco. But I am no lesser man.” I take a long drag off the cigarette and blow it out the window, eying the radio controls.

Tempting...


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(1/29/2015 5:35:32 PM) (2015740)

"Days," I agree sweetly and pat him on the head before I slip into the driver's seat and put on my seat belt.

"My sister collects costumes." Now I'm just torturing him. "Her and her friend Kelly? They live for Halloween. Its been like since they were eight years old. My sister has an entire closet devoted to Disney princess gowns, a nurses outfit, a cop uniform- with handcuffs, a piece of every loser's possible kink. Not because she's slutty. There's no proof that Lilly isn't a virgin." Look, I made a new friend and I'm going to use him to poke all kinds of pins and needles into my sister, under the guise of trying to do him a solid.

She'd do the same or worse to me in a heartbeat.

"I'm sure she would dress up as a cheerleader for you- but that's the catch. She'll smile and shake those pompoms and get you utterly hard- for fun. That's her goal in life, to make everyone finds interesting become obsessed with her and then lead them on.. and on.. and on. Me? I find that incredibly dishonorable. Girl flashes me a smile and tits, comes and sits on my lap during lunch, cracks her thighs open, silently begging for me to feel her up under the table while we're talking to my friends? Off to the choir closet. Anything less is sacriledge."

"Lilly is the kind of girl to wiggle and then bounce up, kiss you on the cheek and laugh at your situation as she flounces away. Do. Not. Go. There. Because you have a reputation. You are a bonefide manwhore, Benson. She probably is already plotting how to make someone as flamboyant and licentuous as you fall madly in love with her to give her the gleeful satisfaction of crushing your hard, making you resort to dressing in black with painted nails writing bad poetry. She is the sun to your Icarus, Benson."

I spot him eyeing the Sirius and smirk. By now, we're out of the parking lot and I'm just driving in a random direction.

"So where am I taking you, my new best friend?"


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(1/29/2015 6:07:59 PM) (2015775)

He says costume collection and my eyes nearly rollback in my head. And a friend? I heard a friend in there right? I’ve never heard of this Kelly but two plus one equals threefun!

Oh yes.

I’m distracted by a long list of fantasies that wouldn’t even be appropriate in an online role-playing chat room. Then he says the magic word and I whirl around to face him, eyes wide.

<i>Virgin.</i>

That’s it. It’s officially fucking Christmas. Except I know what present I’m getting. I have just discovered the Holy Grail’s resting place. It’s between his sister’s thighs.

Marco is definitely the best person ever.

He goes on to explain the catch. I’m only half paying attention. My brow is furrowed, lips pursed and fingers steeped. I’d be pacing around if I could. He’s probably never seen me concentrate so hard. I sure as hell don’t need to do this in class. But this? This is worth the effort.

Suddenly I’m Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom. I can almost feel the hat on my head. Man Harrison Ford was a badass in that movie. Pretty much every movie actually.

Focus Trevor. Virgin. Focus.

Indiana Jones had a whip. There we go. Full circle. Okay. Lets do this.

I glance over at him out of the corner of my eye. I doth detect a hint of experience there. Poor guy. I can’t imagine having a sister like. I can’t imagine having a sister at all really. It’d probably get awkward really quick. Or hot. Maybe both.

“Sacrilege indeed!” I finally exclaim, turning to point at him. “One does not simply open the gates if they’re not ready for the battering ram.” Okay, that metaphor didn’t work out so well. I’m a little distracted. Sue me.

My chest puffs up when he mentions my reputation. I comb my fingers through my hair. What can I say? I’m proud of my work.

“Fuck that shit.” I say when he’s finally finished. “Icarus failed because he was weak and amateur. I can build better wings than wax. I have the technology.” I fish the coin out of my pocket, spinning it across my knuckles again.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet? She wins because you’re playing her game.” Pretty sure him specifically. Did I mention he’s a poor bastard? “You have to make her play your game. Turn it on its head. Don’t desire her. Make her desire you.”

I take a deep breath and stare out the windshield. “This may well be the greatest test I will face in life. My piece de resistance. And what a piece it shall be.” There’s a little breathless sigh there at the end.

“Before I tell you where we’re going, new best friend of mine, I must ask you one question: Are you willing to be the Daedulus to my Icarus?”

I pause briefly before continuing the thought. “Except, you know, hopefully with less imminent death for me and you carrying my body and more teamwork ending in success.” Yes I know the fucking mythos. Jesus Christ what do you people think of me?

If he agrees then I continue. “Then onward! To research and ammunition.”

“Tell us, dear Daedulus, what does your sister like? I mean, we could go break into her room while she’s still at school but I do have a code of honor for these things.” Usually. Mostly.

Okay, starting right now I have a code of honor for these things.\


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(1/29/2015 6:45:14 PM) (2015803)

I am driving, so I can't see his expression. If I knew just how my genuine and sincere warning to run like hell from Lily was being received, though, I would headdesk my forehead right into the steering wheel. I'm trying to save him! He doesn't know, none of them know. Lily has everyone including our father and step-mother lulled into underestimating the depths of her depraved conivingness but as her primary victim-foe-judge-jury-babysitter, I KNOW. I've seen her work her cunning, subtle womanly bullshit on everyone from the token black kid with braces to the bus driver in 8th grade to her sunday school teacher to all the things she does, on a daily basis, to me. Trevor Benson stands no chance against her.

And I'm not sure why I decided, impulsively, to have a friend. I mean, I've got friends. But not Friends. They are people I hang out with at school, and go to parties with, but none of them are really interesting enough to break into song with or have homoerotic banter with in front of a half-class of freshman. None of them are the kind of people who'd dare. I've had more fun in the last hour than I can remember.

"You did not just say that!" I start laughing really hard, as he using the phrases 'open the gates' and 'battering ram' in the context that he used them. But my shock-horror-amusement is swept away as he goes one and oh, that beautiful (if uber flamboyantly GAY) hubris of his declarations. I just keep laughing and driving. Oh God. Now I kinda do want to invite him over for dinner and sit him across the table from Lilly. All I have to do is just sit back and watch. What happens from there cannot in any way be blamed on me. It will serve her right. It will serve him right.

"So you want me to be your daddy?" I tease him as we move towards a major intersection at normal speed. "I mean, if you are asking if I will be your daddy, instead of the Iapyx to your Icarus, I won't say no but daddy likes to play with black magic and sharps. You might not be ready for what happens. You will enjoy it though."

I look at him to see his expression. I do not see the way the green light suddenly turns red out of rhythm and there, in the crosswalk, a scruffy homeless vagrant is abruptly shambling across the road in front of us. I think I just got myself turned on. Either by my thoughts of watching him and Lily with my parents as horror struck collatoral damage or the fact that I just hinted something about myself that nobody knows. I don't think it will shock him- no, there is no shocking Trevor. But his response should be-

- and Trevor sees the look on the hobo's face as we come barreling right at him. We're going to hit him in T-minus 10 seconds.


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 11:48:44 AM) (2016403)

I've got a student who needs help with math. It's not glamorous, but it's a bit of extra money, and let's face it, I can always use the cash to keep my computer up to speed. Low performance means low performance, and that means second-rate results. I'm not gonna have <i>any</i> of that crap. So I want to make sure the word gets out that I can help kids who need it. Even... you know... the morons.

When she arrives, I stand up to greet her, shaking her hand as she offers it. So far, so good. I have to admit, I'm not expecting much from a jock, much less the school's oh-so-important track star, but...

"Konrad." Not 'Conner', not 'K-rad', nothing fucking idiotic like that. "Good to meet you, Michaela." As we sit, I rest a hand lightly on the stack of textbooks on the table next to me. "So, Michaela. Tell me what exactly you need help with... trig? Algebra?"


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 12:12:34 PM) (2016422)

I nod slowly, "Fair enough. The thing to remember about algebra is that it's not really about the formulas." It's a common misconception, and one that the school system doesn't do anything to overcome. Really, it's very lazy of them, but the math teachers only know so much, so I suppose I can forgive their shameful failure to actually teach their <i>discipline</i>, instead of simply teaching the tests.

"As for the money, for the moment, let's just focus on the material. We can worry about the rest later." Moving around the table, I come to look at the textbook and her notebook. Sure, she's got some problems here, but you know, you can't expect a jock to actually get more than just maybe multiplication tables without help, right? It's just not fair to try to make them think. I mean, look at her. She probably runs herself ragged - literally.

"Well, the first thing to remember is that algebra's actually about relationships. That's what the formulas are trying to express: relationships between the numbers on one side of the equation, and the numbers on the other side. What you do to one side, you do to the other side. With me so far?"


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 12:34:05 PM) (2016434)

Hey, look at that! The jock can understand basic concepts! Really, that's the key to jocks: just make everything simple enough for your average goldfish.

Well, ok, maybe a little simpler than that.

"Right, balance. That's all it is. Trying to simplify things. Like, when solving for 'x'? The first thing you want to do is to get all the 'x's on the left side of the equation, and then get everything that's not 'x' on the right side."

I notice the way she looks up, then suddenly looks away, but totally misread it. The jock's thinking with her hormones again. Joy.

"You know... you'll probably have an easier time with all of this when you're wide awake. You look exhausted."


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 1:05:56 PM) (2016447)

"Hey..." I shake my head a little. "You're not wasting my time. God, stop being such a <i>jock</i> for a moment, huh?"

"You all do this, you know. You run into a little difficulty and you think you have to push on through on guts and pigheadedness. Stamina, you call it, like it's some kind of virtue..." Sighing, I force myself to calm down a little. God, these people are gonna give me an ulcer before I'm eighteen. "Michaela... seriously, c'mon. It's a little thing. It's a tiny, little thing. But you're here. That's the right move. You need help, you ask for it. Same thing with the sleeping. You need help, go see a doctor, get them to give you Valium or something. Then you bring in the note, and the teachers have to give you a make-up."

Then I nod down toward her notebook. "And that stuff? It's all one step at a time. Like, if there's an 'x' in the bottom half on the right side? Multiply both sides by 'x' to cancel it. If there's one on the top half? Divide by 'x' to cancel that out. Little steps. Break it down as much as you can. You can do it. I promise...."

There's a moment, where I could just totally turn this into me ripping on her again, but... the kid's clearly at the end of her rope. So instead, I wind up just shaking my head a little, and trying for a smile. "And if you have any trouble, you've got my number. Call me. We'll get together somewhere and I'll help you with it, ok? Someplace that isn't as..." I look around and shrug, "annoying. Maybe McBurgerQueen or something?"


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 1:20:40 PM) (2016452)

Well. She's trying, at least. That's to be encouraged.

"You tell me: you think you can focus, or should we try again after school with some burgers or pizza or something to help you relax?"


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(1/30/2015 1:34:39 PM) (2016460)

For a moment, I give her a long, evaluating look. "You want to know what you can do for me? What's your next class?" Then I wave the question off. "Whatever it is? Sleep through it."

"Heck, put your head down now, sleep through the rest of the period. I'll make sure nobody bothers you. You could use it."

I mean, obviously, I'm not going to hit on her - let's face it, I wouldn't be able to handle dating a jock. They'd drive me insane. But that doesn't mean I can't be nice to her. Dad always taught me to be nice to the girls. Even the ones who don't deserve it. Especially them. Not that she seems like that kind of little bitch, but... yeah. Always be nice to the girls.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 6:49:37 PM) (2018157)

“I want you to be my daddy-brother-cousin-partner-in-crime. And I’m ready for whatever you-- “

HOLY SHIT STOP THE TRACK WE’RE GOING TO HIT SOME HOMELESS GUY.

I don’t even get to waggle my eyebrows at him.

I toss the coin into the air and lunge at him like I’m going to choke a bitch. Seems the seatbelt didn’t quite catch properly.

Funny that.

Then I’m yanking on the wheel. I don’t stop either. I’m pulling on this thing like I’m alone at night for the next few days.

Fuck you Marco.

Every coin flip is a rotation on the wheel. We spin into the intersection. A car hits us and we just keep spinning. I don’t even know where I am anymore. Pretty sure the car hasn’t flipped but I don’t know what’s up and down are anymore. Another car hits us. More spinning.

Oh god I’m going to be sick. Don’t do it Trevor. KEEP IT IN. SUCK IT UP.

Never thought I’d be telling myself those words.

SLAM.

We finally stop. I think. Right? Oh god the world is still spinning. Okay close your eyes. Deep breath. This is like the most sudden hangover ever. Ugh.

I can hear the chaos outside. It seems so far away right now. In here everything is still, quiet. Except for the ringing in my head.

Or maybe my eardrums have burst. That’s what happens in the movies, right? Shit.

A glint of light on the dashboard catches my attention: the coin is there spinning in place. A second later and it falls still. The face of Julius Caesar stares at us for a moment before finally falling over.

That’s not weird at all.

‘Why Trevor, why do you have a Drakma?’ Yeah, so don’t want to deal with that. Okay, operation: distraction commencing.

“Hey babe, come here often?” I bat my eyelashes up at him from his lap.

I will suck his dick if I have to.

I’m not worried about anything going on outside. I already know everyone is okay. It’s a miracle they’ll say. Yep. Definitely a miracle. Nothing hinky going on here.

I’m going to pay for this one later.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 7:37:02 PM) (2018194)

Right, so Marco might be my kind of freak, but he’s still not me. I forget sometimes that this shit takes some adjusting to. Been a while since I had to.

“Don’t sweat it.” My voice is totally different from anything he’s heard from me. It’s soft, comforting. Not the ‘bite the pillow’ kind of tender but real, honest to god, concern.

“I’m fine. We’re fine. Everything is going to be fine.” I lean my forehead against his and close my eyes, taking a deep breath. Let him feel my calm, let him relax with me.

I reach up and trail my fingers down his cheek. I don’t want to touch him too much; It’s not like I’m a fucking doctor or something. I just know he’s going to be fine.

He’ll be fine.

My other hand rests on his. “Don’t move. Help will be here soon.”


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/1/2015 7:51:43 PM) (2018203)

I close my eyes as he makes those assurances, tightening my grip on his arm. There is already a distant siren and I know that he's almost right. Everything is going to be almost fine.

"My dad is going to kill me."

I say it and then laugh, regretting the fact that I'm laughing because that makes my ribs hurt. "The car. My dad is going to kill me. And we completely wasted our free afternoon. Fucking homeless people. I swear it was the same guy every time. First he freaks out Kelly and my sister. Then he attacks me in a diner and steals my stuff and now? He ruins my car and my life."

"At least you weren't giving me a blow job. I mean, I am bi-curious enough to wonder if guys are better or worse at it than chicks. Or maybe I'm just curious how far you and me can push things, you know? Today has been- I dunno. Amazing. Except for the part now where we're going to the hospital and they'll be calling my father and I'm about to end up grounded and without a car and then have to explain what I'm doing here on the road at 11 am and-"

I open my eyes again, licking my lips a little and looking at him.

"How did you do it?" He will know what I'm asking. I hope. Because I'm not sure what I'm asking but I start searching his expression.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 8:25:16 PM) (2018268)

“Let me handle your father.” There’s no pause between his words and mine. no question in my voice. No of course I don’t know how I’ll manage that one. I’ll figure something out.

I always do.

“It wasn’t a waste Marco. I’m sitting here in your lap, aren’t I?” I twist around and barely brush my lips below his ear. “But I’m not a good standard to judge anyone by. I’m my own class. If you want to know what it’s like to just be with ‘a guy’ you’re going to have to look elsewhere.”

“But if you want to know what it’s like to be with me? Well hold on ‘cause it’s a wild ride.” I rest my forehead against his neck.

“I agree with you though. Been a while since I had someone who could keep up.” I lean back against the wheel and flash him a grin. “Well, almost. You look like you might have pulled something.”

But then he says something that makes me flinch.

Maybe he won’t notice. His eyes are barely open and he’s a mess. There’s no way he’ll see me freeze for a second, caught with my hand in the cookie jar. God please don’t let him notice.

One secret Trevor. YOU HAVE ONE SECRET.

“I’m just lucky I guess.” I just lean in and nearly brush my lips over his.

Sorry Marco. You’re a great guy and everything, I’m just not ready to go all the way yet. Maybe one day. Maybe you could be the one.


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/1/2015 8:44:25 PM) (2018300)

"Sure."

After all, why not let him handle my father? What could possibly go wrong there?

"Noted," I murmur back to him when he says he's his own class. I'm not going to embarrass myself any further than my cock already is by making itself known under him. Goddamnit. Lilly would be pointing and laughing her ass off because here I am, trapped in my wrecked car, parts of me hurting like all fuck and there's this guy, this fucking guy, on my lap flirting like nobody's business and I'm mad that I like it and I'm mad that I hurt too much to keep up and something else is going on.

I would love to try and replay back exactly what happened. He threw something up, but I didn't catch a look and my head is aching like it got hit with a sledge hammer. It makes that almost kiss way less of a promise or a dare than it would have otherwise been.

"Come to the ER with me please? Be there with a good story when my dad- oh fuck. It won't be my dad. He's in Brazil." Now my eyes widen a little. "Benson, we have to convince them to release me. Because my father? He'll be mad but he'll just freak out and it will pass. The only other person who could come in my step-mom... wait- actually- no, actually this might work out okay."

But my external self dialogue is cut off by the arrival of the EMTs. And in the confusion of the next few moments? I use my good arm to grab the back of Benson's head and my mouth opens to crush our lips together, stubborn to be the one to see his stakes and raise it higher just because if I don't? I'll never regain the ground.

And then there's somebody wrapping at the door....

... eighty minutes later ....

I screamed my head off as they popped my shoulder back in. Fortunately, that was the worst of my injuries. That and a minor concussion. Both Trevor and I were checked out thoroughly and we had to provide all our emergency information and get put into the system. For me, I just told the truth because there was no other way to do it at this point.

It doesn't dawn on me that we got priority attention at the ER and that we're actually practically ready to be released when my step-mother arrives. She's in her mid-20s and dressed in fashions that are somewhat slutty, but botique slutty. My step-mom has been burning through dad's money on clothes and sex toys with the same zeal that Lilly's mom used on clothes and booze. I really don't see one of them better or worse than the other, except Lilly's mom had more personality and intelligence. Apparently as my dad gets older, the more he likes his women younger and less complicated. Stephanie the Step-Mom is definitely not complicated.

She rushes in though, wide-eyed and looking suspiciously guilty about something herself and stares at me where they are just finishing up and then stares at Trevor where he's standing nearby, her mouth open in an "o" as she tries to divine what to say. I look at my new best friend. She's all yours.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 9:31:23 PM) (2018361)

I don’t expect the kiss. Honestly I didn’t even realise he could still move. It takes a second before I can respond properly and by that point we’re already being interrupted.

I reluctantly move off of him, flashing him a smirk. You win this round Rivale. But this isn’t over.

The games have just begun.

****

I’m holding his hand, squeezing it reassuringly when they pop his shoulder back in. My check-up was finished ages ago. I lost count how many times I’ve heard about our impeccable luck. I’m having trouble not rolling my eyes at this point; it gets boring after a while.

I stay at his side until he seems okay, then it’s back to business as usual. I lean against the wall nearby. “You kiss like such a bitch.”

Game on Marco.

I only manage one quick jab before there’s a woman rushing over to us. And damn is she fine. Wait, is this his step-mother? I look her once over. Twice. Then over at Marco. My brow raises.

I already know that expression. I flash him a small grin before I force my expression back to one of concern. I couldn’t get away with half the shit I do if I wasn’t my teacher’s best student, after all.

Well I probably could, but it’d require a lot more effort.

I push off the wall before she manages to find her words. “I’m sorry, but who are you? My friend here has just been in a car accident and he’s in really rough shape. I don’t think he’s really up to having company right now.”

I pause and deliberately look her over. I make sure she sees me do it too. “Even if that company is a beautiful young woman such as yourself.”

“Could you maybe come back later?” And here’s my winning smile, all warmth and radiance.

New Mission: Sleep with every Rivale. Lets get that ‘Family Matters’ thing off my bucket list early.


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/1/2015 9:54:13 PM) (2018392)

I grin. Mmmn.. the sweet taste of winning last round. Or maybe that's those pain killers they just gave me kicking in.

Stephanie is a blonde. She's perky. She's 5'6 and got herself her first boob job last year, going up to DD which is too big for somebody at her height-weight for it to be anything but cheap. The blouse she's wearing shapes right to her top heavy frame and when he looks back at me after getting a good look at her? I bat my lashes and grin, saying nothing to either of them.

Game. Fucking. On.

Stephanie blinks and starts to babble that I'm her step-son Marco and oh, are we okay? She doesn't seem to know quite what to do.

"Actually, Steph- the doctors don't want me to sleep because I have a concussion and Trevor volunteered to spend the night at our house. You don't mind taking us both back there and helping him get me into bed? Well, what I really, really want is a shower first. But I'm not sure I could do it alone." I gesture at the sling I'm now wearing. "In fact, I might need help walking to the car. But I'll sit in the back."

I look at Trevor. I smile at Trevor.

"You'll help Steph get me into the shower right? And then bed? I don't know how long I'll be able to stay awake though. I need to be awake for at least six more hours though. If I can. Maybe some Starbucks on the way home Steph? You don't mind taking us through Starbucks, do you?"

She babbles that no, she doesn't mind and all she wants to do is help. Her breasts heave as she clasps Trevor's hand and gushes how lucky I am to have a friend like him.


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 10:41:10 PM) (2018463)

Marco looks at me. I look at him. He smiles at me.

Oh Marco.

You are a devious bastard. A sick and twisted fuck.

It’s <i>delicious.</i>

I knew I liked you for a reason. I smile back him. I keep it tender for our audience of course, but he’ll see the sparkle in my eye.

“Oh <i>you’re</i> Stephanie?” My disbelief seems genuine. “I’m so sorry! I had no idea. I mean I didn’t think that anyone so--” I cut myself off abruptly and look her up and down again. The flush that rises to my cheeks has nothing to do with embarrassment.

She doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s such a pleasure to meet you.” I take her hand, the other clasping over hers. It’s hard not to lower my eyes. There’s a whole lot of bouncing going on. “Really I’m the lucky one though. Marco is such an incredible guy. We could have died if it weren’t for him.”

Then I’m glancing back at him. “You know I’ll help you with whatever you need man. I’m sure between the three of us we’ll be able to get through the night. Somehow.”

My fingertips trail down her arm as I move over to my new partner in crime. His arm goes around my shoulder and I flash him a smile. “Its going to be a long night, no matter how much coffee we drink. Think you can stay up through it all? Are you ready for that?”


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/1/2015 10:57:36 PM) (2018483)

We get out of there. Stef is gushing at Trevor and I'm behind them smiling. I have my coat which I'm carrying in my good arm. When we get to her car, Trevor holds the door open for me and I lean into him and whisper in his ear, my body brushing against his <i>"Anything goes, best friend."</i>

I have a plan. It is a delicious plan. I really hope Lilly doesn't somehow end up- but wait! She is spending the night at Kelly's house. I remember her saying something about that at breakfast.

During the ride home, I put my good hand in my coat pocket and discover what it was that was stabbing my sore ribs before. My tarot deck! As I pull it out, I see the top card is Three of Swords.

"Oh no no no," I murmur and intentionally shuffle through and pull out the Lust card instead, glancing towards the front seat and smiling at Stephanie. We go to Starbucks and I realize I'm famished and I order some baked goods, more than I'd normally eat in one sitting. I make short work of them and that coffee during the last leg home.

.. later, I will come to realize what I did, though the 'how' is much longer in coming. But Steph became increasingly stimulated, giggly, and absolutely hanging onto Trevor's every word and gesture. He has her wet and moaning and eager by the time we're pulling in the front drive way. I'm fascinated, truly.

By now my arm is feeling better. In fact, about the time I pulled out the tarot deck? That pulled muscle stopped hurting. I'm able to get myself out of the back by myself, which is probably a good thing, because Stephanie is literally hanging off Trevor. I've stuffed my tarot deck into the back pocket of my jeans.

"So.. kitchen?" I say casually to him right in front of her. "Living room? Dining room? I think the Den would be a step too far. Dad works in there. But her bedroom, my bedroom... mnnm... you know, I think I want a glass of milk while you decide. White or chocolate- or hey, how about white russians? I could use some booze with my perkiset or whatever those wonderful blue pills were."


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/1/2015 11:24:59 PM) (2018517)

Man I am on absolute <i>fire</i> today. First the cheerleader and now this? I think I’ve set a new personal best here. Gonna be hard to outdo myself.

Hard, but not impossible.

As a matter of fact...

“You think too small Marco. You need to be more ambitious. That’s how I always get the lead roles.” I start to drag Stephanie off. “Time to show you some tricks of the trade.” I wave as we wander off. I don’t answer his question though. That would ruin the surprise.

I have to come up for air to call out a second later. “I’ll take that white Russian though. Hell, just bring the bottle. We’ll probably need it.”

He’ll hear the sounds his step-mother makes as I explore the house. And her. When he moves to follow? Articles of clothing lead the way. Hers at first, then mine. Pictures are ajar, surfaces cleared.

When he reaches the end of the trail and looks at the room we’re in? It’s his sister’s. Honestly I didn’t even have to ask which one was hers. It wasn’t hard to figure out.

Our position would be compromising, you know, if either of us cared. She might later. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.

I look up at him, my face shining slightly. “What took you so long?”


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/1/2015 11:40:28 PM) (2018539)

I made drinks. I even got snacks. But those I left behind, setting them on the table in front of the big plasma tv in the family room that serves as the place Lilly and I are encouraged to entertain our friends. It has all kinds of movies, video games, board games, and really is my favorite room outside my bedroom in the house. I took my time because while a threesome with my new best friend and my step-mother certainly takes things to a whole new level of debauch?

They won't get me a new car. They won't get me off the hook for what happened to my old car. Oh no. Trevor was wrong when he said I think small. He was also mistaken when he thinks I want lead roles. I genuinely prefer supporting cast and having an opportunity to be part of the production but out of the headlines. It leaves time and energy to devote myself to other things.

When Trevor looks up from his position on top of my step mother, on my sister's bed? He will see me leaning on my good shoulder in the door way.. making a video of the two of them.

"Smile more," I suggest to Trevor. Stephanie doesn't seem completely aware of what I'm doing. I'm not going to ruin her moment. Not tonight. I am not malicious. Tomorrow morning will be time enough to show her the video and explain to her that she's going to tell dad that she was driving my car when the accident happened- she'd picked me and a friend up from school because we came down with food poisoning. She'll even arrange it somehow with the insurance company so she's the one who gets her rates raised. And as long as she does what I want? My father (or anyone else) will never see this video.

"Take your time," I add to Trevor. "Really. Take your time. I'm going to go take that shower. Refreshments are in the living room. I will be there in about a half hour. Make yourself at home."

And I walk out, leaving him to his entertainment, smiling to myself. Now he has to decide. Stick with her (and really, who wouldn't want to?) and get the deliciousness of making that 25 year old trophy wife howl like Lassie or follow me into... who knows. There's no right answer for him. But I really am going to take that shower after I put the phone and tarot cards in a safe place. I'm going to light candles and shower in the dark like I normally do. And think about things, mull them over, and then go drink and eat and savor the way everything feels right at this moment.

I should have befriended Trevor years ago. So much time wasted when we could have been each other's cohorts from the get-go.


( and fade there or on your post Chris? )


<b>Trevor Benson (Kjaere)</b>
(2/2/2015 12:01:04 AM) (2018594)

I probably shouldn’t be this comfortable having sex in front of a camera. I mean, I’m sure there’s a lot of things I probably <i>shouldn’t</i> be by most standards. But you’d at least expect a moment of hesitation or shock. Maybe some weird porn faces when I suddenly know I’ve got an audience.

Nope.

I just flash him a smile and kick it up a notch.

Honestly I had known blackmail was in the cards here. It wasn’t my first choice, but it was somewhere in the vague non-quite-formed plans in the back of my head. It’s just so... so...

<i>Cliche.</i>

Ugh.

Of course I’m going to ask for a copy of that video. With that fucking cover story I’m probably going to need it over the next couple of days.

I still haven’t forgiven you for that one Marco.

I nod when he tells me to take my time. Not that I needed to be told. Little busy here.

Things aren’t going to end there though. Oh no. I must have missed the part where he said the den might be ‘too far’.

No I didn’t. I just didn’t care. That’s what cleaning services are for.

So when he’s done showering and comes into the living room? We’ve started the second act. And he’s not getting away this time. No better way to get to know a guy then having a girl between you like a Chinese finger trap.


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(2/3/2015 6:24:43 PM) (2019693)

Students aren't allowed to install software onto school computers. It's a simple rule, and it makes a lot of sense: they don't want us coming into computer lab during lunch or study hall periods and playing games on their dime. If we can't install software, then they don't have to worry about what we're installing. Jason Donnelly, a senior, got caught two years ago installing software onto one of the computers by networking in from home after hours. He got expelled for hacking the school's system and tampering with grades. He didn't touch the grades, but they didn't care. It was an excuse to get rid of a student who was smarter than them.

That's why me and Kelly? We're playing WotOFR. On the school computers.

You can't install anything on the computers. WotOFR runs just fine off a flashdrive, and we've got 128gb SD-cards in our phones that let us store the entire game on them. Then just hook up the USB charging/data cables, and...

"Hey.." I lean left just a little, keeping my voice down so the substitute in charge of the lab doesn't hear, "Thanks again for getting me into your guild. I'll Get the B-raid up to speed this week, I swear."


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(2/3/2015 6:56:29 PM) (2019720)

"Hold them back?" Yes, that's sheer snobbery dripping off my voice there. "If your medics can do their job, KB, I'll have them ahead of you guys before the loot timer expires on your next General Molybdenum kill."

Pfft. Like I'd let her look like a dork. Like i'd let <i>me</i> look like a dork! Trust me, I've crunched the numbers and looked at their Confrontation strats, and I can see exactly where the math says 'do it this way instead'. If there's one thing I know, it's math, and math? Math <i>never</i> lies.

The substitute, on the other hand, wouldn't know math if it bit him in the fucking <i>ass</i>.

"They always need to use better variable names, KB. It's the curse of having no imagination. Ugh. Triple Tachyon Slime coming in from the left. I got 'em, you go ahead and get the salvage off that crashed hoversled."

Really, the number of crashed hoversleds in this part of the station would make me seriously question the competence of the Imperium's licensing department, if I didn't know they were <i>just</i> here to salvage Techcrafter mats.


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(2/3/2015 7:20:19 PM) (2019742)

"Nope," I answer cheerfully, "Wasn't a damned thing they could teach me that I didn't already know."

Three Tachyon Slimes are, of course, almost as much of a joke as this substitute is, which is why I'm barely paying any actual attention to what's going on either in the game or in the room. Splitting my lack of attention like that's actually helpful: it keeps me from having to be bored, and believe me, boredom is a fucking <i>killer</i> when it comes to my ability to function in these situations. There's just never enough going on.

"That's why they're making McBurgerQueen money teaching this crap to us after six years of college, and I'm making damned near the same amount making sure jocks like Michaela the track star gets a passing grade in basic tenth-grade algebra."

Kelly'll know who I mean. Everyone knows who Michaela is, even if maybe like a dozen people in the school (all of them faculty) give a shit.


<b>Konrad Kendel (Dead Elf Mage)</b>
(2/3/2015 7:34:37 PM) (2019757)

"I was thinking I might singlehandedly solve all the world's problems and then charge them out the ass to actually get the solutions from me, one by one. But you know, I might just make myself the richest guy on the planet and keep all my friends on my payroll as 'social advisors'."

She gets a wink - after all, I've got what? Like... four friends, total?

"How about it? Wanna go pro on the world firsts?"


( -- fade to imagination until next morning -- )


<b>Marco Rivale (Damiana)</b>
(2/4/2015 5:49:30 PM) (2020321)

My brain feels like scrambled eggs- the kind with chorizo sausage and green peppers and onions mixed in. Maybe a little cheddar cheese on top. When I woke up this morning, I was in my parent's bedroom, naked with my step mother Stephanie snuggling against me. Pulling away Coyote Ugly style (not that she's ugly, she's just my step mother), I'd put on boxers and discovered Trevor naked in the kitchen making blueberry pancakes and singing show tunes.

That's how my morning started.

From there? I drove Trevor and me to school in Steph's white mustang. Before lunch, I was accosted by sister who demanded that I chauffer her and Kelly around. "Sure- but I have the mustang," I'd mumbled to her, digging furiously in my locker as if I was looking for something specific because I couldn't look Lilly in the eyes. <i> I kinda had a threesome with Trevor Bennett and Steph in every room in the house last night. Including yours. Sorry. </i>

And of course Lilly had a 101 suspicious questions regarding why I was being allowed access to the mustang. I stumbled through a version of the accident, leaving out the hobo and the trip to the ER. Lilly left me fuming and I'd spent the rest of the school day kinda numb, avoiding Trevor because I really don't know what to say to him and half afraid he might kiss me- or worse- in front of people.

I'm not gay.
I'm not into guys.
It was just flirting to dare him because he's so flamboyant.
How the hell did all of that happen?

My tarot deck is in my back pocket in a new silk bag. I've kept it close to me ever since it was stolen at the diner. Other than last night, I even sleep with it under my pillow. It was still under my pillow. In my bedroom. I just wasn't there.

Fuck. My. Life.
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