The Cliché

Chatterbox: Inkwell

The Cliché

The Cliché RP

Well gee golly darn it, the Earth done goofed up and now there's a super evil baddie on the rise and wouldn't ya just know it, she/he's pretty much unstoppable!

BUT WAIT, WHAT IS THIS? A light on the horizon?  A new hope for humanity?  WHO CAN IT BE?

Why it's the classic team of RAGTAG SUPER COOL MISFITS WHO JUST AREN'T LIKE OTHER KIDS/YOUNG ADULTS!

*EXAGGERATED GAASSSSSSP*

Let's look at who we've got here! There's:

The TOTALLY NOT A MARY SUE main character with token flaws that don't affect or hurt them in any WAY!

The cool dark and brooding one who would be considered a jerk under any other circumstances but it's totally okay because he has a tragic PAST!

The genius who uses unrealistically long words (get out your thesaurus folks) and knows EVERYTHING (becuase that's how being smart works).

The comedic relief with virtually no character!

And anyone else imagineable!

Sign Up Sheet~

(You can be any cliché person: super villain, good guy, minion, random neutral person, or anything else!  There can be more than one of each trope, too.)

Name (probably super unique and exotic):

Gender:



Age (probably unrealistically young):



Cliché:

Additional Personality (not too much of this beyond the cliché):



Backstory (probably very tragic):



Skills (lay it on thick!):



Good, Evil, or Neutral:



Ship (let's get ourselves a love triangle):



Other: 

~~~

I'm going to make a character too later on.  This is NOT a serious RP, so LET'S GET OVER THE TOPPPPP AND DRAMATIC!  WHOO!

submitted by Marigold, The Cliché RP
(November 20, 2018 - 9:49 pm)

I've redone my post, sorry I didn't see your post Marigold, I'll look more carefully for small posts next time!

~~~ 

I stir from my perch on a roof as my phone buzzes, snapping me out of my daze, who could be texting me now? I check my phone and read the message curiously, it's from Professor G, who in the world is that?

I climb through the hatch in the roof into the kitchen and set my phone on the table, I'll worry about it later. I take out the last slice of chocolate cake from the fridge and smile, these people have good taste. Then there's a crash outside, I quickly grab my phone and run out through the back door towards the forest, thinking that it's the house's owner.

Then I stop, seeing a girl and a boy, the latter is someone I know, though not very well, he sits in front of me in History, Peter is his name. As for the former, she's unfamiliar, I've seen her in my classes, specifically Science, but don't know anything about her except her name, Ceira. Then I realize that standing there, gawping, might not be the best way to avoid questions. I quickly stuff the slice of cake into a plastic bag that I pull from my pocket and slip it into my backpack. Then I climb into a tree to listen and wait. Another girl comes outside, drawn by the noise. She's Estelle, from Math, I recognize her because she's my partner for some stupid project that we have to do.

We make eye contact for a split second and I can see confusion flash across her face before my phone vibrates and makes the sound of an owl

~~~

It has been redone!

submitted by Darkking, age Who knows?, A dimension.
(November 30, 2018 - 10:24 am)

It was a techno-heist to crown the best of them, and for once, Birk almost missed it. This could be attributed to the fact that, at the golden time for signal interception, he was clambering about upside-down in the engine room of his shuttle, winding wires, welding cables, and whistling at the top of his lungs. This last was unusual for him-- not the whistling itself, but the volume and feeling behind it. Birk was rarely sullen, but he was seldom so gleeful as to shut out the sounds around him. The reason behind this rashness was simple. If anything could be calculated to please Birk Backstab, a solid fortnight of profitable, customized action would likely suit the purpose.

Thus, the sensor had been going off for approximately two and a quarter minutes when Birk, caught up with a spark plug and the sixth stanza of "The People's Pride," heard its outcry, and worked his way out of his wires, swearing eloquently. His home-made Signal Interception and Recording Equipment (or S.I.R.E, as he liked to call it), was propped up against a wispy birch sapling near the edge of the grove, and not far from the Prince of Pickett's prized periwinkle bed, which was currently serving as the shuttle's landing pad. Birk swung down from the engine-door and landed squarely on his booted feet with a dusty thud. According to habit, he paused in the shadow of the shuttle, head raised like a wild best, scouting his vicinity for hostiles or nuisances. Satisfied, he set off to consult with S.I.R.E., crushing violet-blue blossoms with wanton and fragrant abandon.

The sensor's pitch had already decreased by the time he reached it. Lunging for the panel, Birk pounded the pertinent keys and just snagged the tail end of the signal as it made its getaway. A few well-timed commands dragged it back, fenced it in, locked it in place, and anatomized it.

Now that the manual bit was over, there wasn't any rush. Triumphant, Birk dropped back onto the frazzled, plush-backed swivel chair, swinging his boots up on the sensor's surface, while the system ran its analysis. The chase was always thrilling, even when conducted remotely, through receptive equipment. Birk would be the first to admit that modern technology sapped the fun out of life-- he remembered the days, not so very long ago, when he had physically hunted ground-wired signals through the labyrinths of midnight metropolises. Heart leaping, thinking on his feet, moonlit sweat frozen in the folds of his clothing, seizing his quarry like a wolf or a hawk, ambushing it in electromagnetic backalleys, or tracking it both ways to its source-lair and destination. 

Despite this dilution of the experience of the thing, no realistic mercenary on the scene rejected newfangled gadgets. Those who remained faithful acolytes of the old ways met with derision, redundancy, and worse. Birk ascribed to the more lucrative philosophy. 

In a decimal of the time he could have done it with cruder devices, S.I.R.E. picked apart the signal, translated and transcribed it. Resuming "The People's Pride" in an undertone, Birk glanced nonchalantly at the screen. Then he fell straight backwards into a sea of day-lilies, chair and all. 

Scrambling to disentangle himself from the chair and perennials, Birk sprang up again and reread the message. Though the day was warm, and unusually humid for the season, he shivered. Once. And then, like a man who sees through all the good intentions of the world, he laughed. The black lettering on the screen stood out like an ancient omen against its neon backdrop, but Birk propped himself up on the sensor and continued to laugh, shaking his head. "I was wondering what you've been up to, 'Professor,'" he said. "And lucky for me-- I'm not the only one."

submitted by Esthelle, age Elusive, Schokolade
(November 30, 2018 - 7:34 pm)

TOP!!! Please.

submitted by Esthelle, age Elusive, Schokolade
(December 2, 2018 - 12:36 am)

Ceira

~~~

Professor G, or so Peter told me, was widly known with the people I went to school with. 

"C'mon, we should find the others, this is...getting kinda weird," Peter said standing up, I pushed myself off the ground, deciding not to question why he only thought it was getting weird now.

Peter held his phone in front of him, the faux light of the screen illuminating his face, and pointing our specifec features; like the outline of caremel colored hair, and fantasy green eyes. "I was just out with some friends, they got the same message, I thought it was some prank from one of the guys, but now that you got one, I'm not so sure," he tells me. I nodded, trying to follow along, but I too wanted to figure out what was going on.  "We could go find meet up with them?"

 

~oOo~

Long conversation I had with Peter, short, we ended meeting up with all his friends. At the dark playground at nine at night. I'm sure no passerby found that suspious or anything.

Estelle, despite never really talking to her, seemed to reconize me as soon as I came out of the woods, what she was doing I wasn't really sure, but the wide eyed look she had gotten once she read a text, made it a bit obviouse she was there just like us. 

Dax was next to appear, I guess he and Peter must have had a few classes, because they greeted each other with the typical head nod thing. 

And then my friends the party arrived. 

Pulling up in a car I couldn't recognize in the dark, three people appeared from the dark mass, Juietta, Nova, and Aster, each other them held their phone close, flashlight on.

"you got it too then?" Julietta asked me, once she had made her way over to the to-low-for-me swing I was slowly swinging on. "do you know who he is?" the question was more just to create a conversation, I saw in her eyes that she held no hope that I had the answer. still I answered. 

"no, I just got the message saying he wanted to recruit  me for some team, whatever that means." Julietta nodded, a unsurprised expression across her face. 

and then, if thing weren' bad enough now, being in the dark, wondering about some weirdo dude, Pheobe showed up. 

Pheobe Smith was the youngest cheerleader at our school, and easiestly the most popular, the girls wanted to be her, and guys wanted to be with her. She had everthing in her life handed to her on a silver platter, literally, I had seen her eat from a silver plate at school before, it's like the lunch lady's hold them special just for the cheerleaders.

The girl was still dressed up in her little chearleading outfit, her cheeks flushed, and a wobble in her step, she must have come for the all famous afterparties of a football game, she had the clear signs of it. 

"heyyy guys," she said, her voice aloof, but had a dark undertone. she laughed as she nearly tripped over a twig. Nova made his way over to her and gently led the girl over to us. 

"You okay, Pheebs?" Peter asked, looking up from his place sitting on the concreate outline of the playground. 

"hm, yeah, I'm good," she said. "I was walking home and I saw you guys here," she started, "I decided to come over, cause why not?"

"and of course she didn't think about how this might not involve her," I muttered, leaning in so only Julietta could hear me. she gave me a shrug. 

Nova looked down at Pheobe, slightly swaying beside him, "you were walking home? alone?" 

the question seemed to perk the girl up, as if she had been woken from  a trance.

"my, uh, parents really should't, er, I don't need, ug," she said, giving up. 

"You got sick of partying? or just wanted to grace us with your presence, O great one?" I said, standing from my swing. The girl gave a frown, we had never gotton along. 

"well, someone had to make sure you don't go making a muck of our school's reputation again, Ceira," she shot back, reminding everyone about the one time (one time!) I played a prank on the football team with Lily, before she moved away. had added a single red sock to their laundry, and turned their pristine white uniforms pink. I wouldn't have been caught either, but one of Pheobe's mindless cheer buddies ratted me out. Mom was pretty ticked off, that was before I ran. 

"that was a long time ago, Pheobe, besides shouldn't be falling off a human pyramid right about now? or do you only do that during games?"  

"Really? I only 'fell' because the stupid mascot bumbed into us!" 

"not my fault you couldn't keep your balance," I shrugged, both of us seeming to inch closer to each other. 

"yeah, but it is your fault cheer practice was canelled last week, Miss Gum-In-Our-Pompoms."

"you have no proof that was me, and anyway, your little cheer group deserved it, what with all they do around school, I assuming whoever did it, just wanted to take them down a few notches," I replied.

Pheobe opened her mouth, but Peter cut her off, "guys, that enough, we're here for a reason, remember?" her words barely made their way into my ears, Pheobe and I were inches away from each other, my eyebrows pinching together. she was taller than be, just slightly. I could hear her breathing, soft, her breath smelled faintly of beer, only confirming the rumors about what happened at those stupid afterparties. 

Pheobe stared me in the eyes, daring me to say something. she seemed to glow in the moonlight, her eyes shining, aftermath of lipstick applied well over twelve hours ago clung to her lips.

"fine," I said finally, backing off. 

and as all the cliches say; as  if on cue, each our phones buzzed, each giving a destinct ring. despite not completely over fighting with Pheobe, I pulled out my phone. it was Professor G:

Find the others, then we all may begin. Hurry, this world relies on you.

 

submitted by Annabeth C
(December 2, 2018 - 7:30 pm)

Phoebe

~

I hate my life sometimes. Like now. It looks like I'm going to be saving the world from who-knows-what while still wearing my stupid sweaty cheer uniform, and in the company of Ceira. And my head is spinning a little from the one beer that I was obligated to drink to avoid looking like a prude, and I want to be home in bed or anywhere but here.

Ceira and I have known each other for all of high school. We're always in the same classes, and we've always antagonized each other. She clearly hates me for my projected shallowness, for being the captain of the cheerleaders. And I've never understood why she resented the social hierarchy so much. The way I see it, it's easier to just conform and make it to the top of the pyramid. (Figuratively and literally, in my case.)

I can see how Ceira would think everything was perfect for me, like I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. But she's wrong. It took a lot of effort to achieve my social standing, and it takes just as much to keep it. And it's incredibly difficult to party every weekend and study enough to maintain straight As in all my honors and AP classes. 

I can tell Ceira thinks I don't belong here. She thinks I'm some kind of egomaniac idiot, intruding on this meeting of kid heroes because I think being a cheerleader makes me special. So I feel kind of vindicated when my phone buzzes with everyone else's. 

I show Ceira my phone. Amid the storm of texts asking why I left the party so early, there's the alert from Professor G. "I think Professor G wants me to grace you with my presence," I tell her.

I see the surprise flash across her face for an instant, and then her expression hardens into irritation. "Yes, Queen Phoebe," she says.

"Guys, can you...?" Peter says in exasperation.

I like Peter. I think everyone in the school likes Peter. He's just unfailingly nice. "Fine," I say to him. I give Ceira a warning glare and turn away.

"What does it mean, find the others?" Nova asks, reading his phone. "Aren't we all the others?"

"I don't know," says Estelle. "But I guess the world relies on us." 

submitted by Zeus, Idaho
(December 2, 2018 - 9:11 pm)

Sorry I haven't posted yet! (Bloody schoolwork.) 

@Viola, ooh, good idea, that could be an interesting ship.  

@Rogue, I was wondering if Ash and Navy could be good friends or twins. I feel like they are opposite but also sort of similar in a way. If not, then... just ignore this post. 

Navy~

Ash's name popped up on my screen. Did u get a message from professor g? I sighed, and brushed my midnight blue hair off my face. 

Ashy, it's clearly a scam. "Hurry, this world relies on you?" 

But its not! Other people got the text too. I pulled up the message. As far as I was concerened, it was only sent to me. 

Oh really. So this Professor sent this text to whom?

Aster, you know, the golden boy. Ceira, she's in apush with us, and julietta too. And Phoebe, she's the cheerleader girl. They're in the woods right now. 

Oh wow, a cheerleader is expected to save the world??

You don't have a right to judge girls by their appearence or social status Navy. Whoa. I admit that did come out wrong. I turned off my phone and went back to my sketchbook. Arguing about feminism with Ashziar will only result in getting the silent treatment. Why is the female race so complex? A question to ponder about another time. 

Right as I picked up my charcoal pencil, my phone started buzzing again.

Trust me! Just come, and if it's fake then you can hold it over me. You love being petty...! Goshdarn it, she's exposed my weakness! I smile weakly. 

Alright. I'll head over. 

[Unrealistically fast transition!]

I could hear them now. I scanned my eyes over the group of people. All popular. This was a terrible idea. Ok. No. Just suck it up. I wiped my hands on the sleeves of my suede jacket.

"Hello!" I whipped around and smacked into a person taller than me. I then tripped, but two hands stopped me from falling. I looked up, and I made eye contact with Aster Flinn, the most golden of the golden boys.

"Oh God! Sorry! I just suck at this, being interacting with people I don't know. I'm trying to find this girl named Ashziar with a Z, who thinks someone named Professor G is trying to recruit us to some Hogwartian program-"

"Whoa. You got the the text too? So have we!" He gestures to a small group of people gathered in the clearing. Phoebe and that other girl (Ceira was it?) were arguing. Another boy was trying to break them up. I could see Ash standing there too, with Julietta and co. Huh.

Maybe this could be a thing after all...

<3 Fidelity 

submitted by Fidelity
(December 3, 2018 - 3:59 am)

NOOOOOOOO I HAD AN AMAZING POST BUT I EXED IT OUT NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO I SPENT SO MUCH TIME ON IT :(

submitted by Annabeth C
(December 3, 2018 - 8:33 pm)

I'm so sorry, Annabeth! That's happened to me so many times I've lost count. The best thing to do, is to copy your post onto another document somewhere, just as a precaution.

On the brighter side-- now, you might have a chance to rewrite your post and make it even better! 

submitted by Esthelle, age Elusive, Schokolade
(December 4, 2018 - 12:10 am)

ALRIGHT time to write through the pain and tears, wish me luck :(

~~~~

Peter

~~~

I didn't know why Ceira and Pheobe hated each other, and while it sounds like a very interesting story, I didn't really feel like getting into specifics with them. But, as I watched them fight in this cold night, I relized I did know Ceira, I just hadn't reconized her before because I had been running for my life and all. She was from a few of my classes, and each of those classes also had Pheobe. And they fought. A lot. it's like they had to compete for every little thing, if it wasn't for the clear mutual distain between them, I would have thought they were trying to impress the other. 

"find the others? there's more of us?" Julietta was the first to speak, she shivered as a gust of wind blew over her, standing from her perch on the swin, she ambled over to Aster, making the movement seemed relaxed, despite the blush rising to her cheeks when he slung his arm around her shoulders. 

Pheobe gladdly took over Julietta spot, happy to get off her feet. 

"How would we even find the others?" Nova asked to no one exclusivly. "hacking?"

Aster snorted, "yeah, cause we're gonna hack the entire population's phones."

Ceira gave a soft hmm, her eyebrows pinching together. her gaze was directed away from the shivering chearleader beside her. "I don't think we'd have to do that, I mean we got all the highschool steriotypes here, right? Peter the Jock, Aster the Goldon Boy, Julietta the Good, I mean if this can't just be a coincidence," she stated.

"uh-huh, and what are you? Ceira the Pain?"

"Better than Pheobe the Petty," Ceira shot back at the girl.

"Guys," I said warningly, not wanting them to start a screaming match at each other, I felt the neighbors might be a little suspious of that. but Ceira had a point, in a strange way, each of us where the leaders of whatever clique we had at school, I was captian of the swim team, Aster was like by pretty much everyone at our school somehow, Pheobe was the youngest cheer captain our school, and district had ever seen. There was a good chance she was a right, it would make sense, right?

"hello!" I new comer said, bringing our attention away from Pheobe and Ceira's glaring match. A boy stood in front of us, or did stand in front of us, he hand bumbed into Aster and was just saving himself from face planting in front of everyone. I reconized him, Navy, he was a pretty much loner, besides some girl from school, I could picture her faace, but not her name. 

"uh, you okay?" Aster said, extending a hand, but Navy was already up, dusting off the stray bits of dirt.

"Oh gosh! Sorry! I just suck at this, being interacting with people I don't know. I'm trying to find this girl named Ashziar with a Z, who thinks someone named Professor G is trying to recruit us to some Hogwartian program-"  Navy's rambling was cut short.

"Woah. You got the text too? So have we!" Aster said, gesturing to the rest of us. Navy's eyes caught on Pheobe and Ceira, both of them back to their bickering. 

I sighed, remembering math class a few weeks back, they were argueing so much, they didn't notice the bell had rung, I heard a few kids even but bets on how long they'd be there. I actually don't know how long they were there, I didn't have either of them in my next class, so I never knew how long it took them to leave, but I'd like to think once others started piling into the classroom they figured it out.

"Guys seriously? look we've got more company." I said, pointing over to Navy. 

"I know!" Ceira said defensivly, "I pay attention, unlike some," she said, glaring over to Pheobe, the girl had her arms folded across her chest.

"oh, shove a sock in it," Pheobe muttered back. 

"okay, fine, you two try not to kill each other, and we'll find a way to save the world or whatever," I said. Ceira glared at me, but gave a sigh. 

"Look, Navy, right?" The boy nodded in repsonse, and Ceira kept talking, "you're friend Ashziar, she got a text too? we need to find her, and the others, but how to find the others, we could send a post on some sort of media, but...no that wouldn't work..." Ceira spoke to herself more than us. 

"What if we texted him back? what's stopping us from Asking the professor who the others are?" Pheobe said, turning to Ceira. the girl looked up, momentary drawn from her own thoughts.

she brought through her hair, and looked at Pheobe, "we can't...I mean-Because, well," Ceira's mouth hung slightly ajar, brows furrowed.

"well I truly hope you don't say we can't because the world'll explode, cause I just texted the guy," Aster said, breaking up the silence. he held his phone out for us to see, the words  what others? three little dots blinked indicating the G's Typingin, I could only wonder what the response would be. 

and then...

In order to complete this mission, you will need to find the following, Ashziar, Brianna, and Callysta. you need to hurry, you do not have unlimited time, this is happening, and it is happening now.

how great. 

"I know Brianna, she's one of my cheerleaders," Pheobe said.

"Brianna and I are pretty good friends actually, I could probably talk to her, and Navy could get to Ashziar, but Callysta, she's been out of school for a while..."

our attention was brought back to the swings where the two girls sat, Ceira shivered in the cold, a Panic! at the disco shirt tee shirt showing. Pheobe, now had a purple sweatshirt draped over her shoulders. 

Neither girl offered an explanation.

Neither girl acknowlaged the other. 

submitted by Annabeth C
(December 3, 2018 - 10:56 pm)

~~Professor G

Professor Seshat Germaine sat at her desk, her legs crossed elegantly.  She had long ago tapped into the satellite cameras, and now they were focused on the gathered kids (AHEM SORRY I MEAN YOUNG ADULTS).  What was taking them so long?  All she had asked was for them to abandon all sense of self-preservation and trust a random stranger.  

Young adults (coughcoughkidscoughcough) these days with their stranger danger, sheesh.

Suddenly, all of the screens blinked red.  Ffej was on the move. 

"If I ever needed the help of a ragtag bunch of unlikely heroes," Professor G breathed dramatically, "it's now."

submitted by Marigold, The State of Mind
(December 4, 2018 - 5:52 pm)

Ceira

~~~~

"Do I blend in with the trees that easy? sheesh," a voice brought all of our head turning to a girl who had stood a few paces away from the rest of us. 

"Ash!" Navy said happily, ambling over to the girl.

"alright, so we just need to find two more people then, can someone text Brianna? I'm sure one of you," Estelle pauses, looking at Pheobe and me, "has her number, right?" she pushed hair from here eyes, looking around, "how do we find Callysta?"

"so, uh, I texted Bri, and I found something you guys might want to see," Pheobe piped up, her phone screen lit up in my face as she shoved it over to me. it was a post from what  looked like facebook. written in bold black letters was : MISSING. CALLYSTA. a picture of what she was last wearing, and more information was below.  

"Was she taken by what we're supposed to stop?" Ash asked, standing beside Navy in the woodchips. 

I looked at the girl in the picture, she had a bright smile, the photo itself at an angle, probably she had posted on instagram or something like that. She was pretty, but she gave off a needy vibe, no offence to her, but she looked like the type of person the sought out attention instead of waiting for it to rightfully fall apon her, but her eyes held happiness, and for a split second I wondered if I knew her from somewhere. and then I releized I did, she was in my math class, she was pretty smart.  

"it wouldn't be the weirdest thing," Peter said, standing beside me, he rested his arm on my shoulder, acting as if it was the most normal thing. I didn't say anything. Pheobe was looking at me. 

Nova scratched the back of his neck, looking from each of us, a strange look spread across his face. "you guys think there's someone out there that's seriously ready to take some fifteen year old girl over some plan?" his typical upbeat tone had been replaced with one dark, and quiet. "what else is the guy up for, I mean, what else should we be expecting?" it was then, I think, that we all realized we were in. 

Not that it was surprising. 

We all, whether we'd admitt it of not, had read stories of the underdogs, of the outcasts, and mocked, had read stories about the people we are now, being the good guy, rising up and becoming the hero. And none of us, not Navy and Ashziar with their own little life packed away from everyone, not Peter and Pheobe, with the popularity, and teams held to their attention, could pass up the oppertunity of becoming who we'd always wished we could be.  

"Bri texted me," Pheobe said, her voice shaking. "she can't leave her house right now, there's some shady things roaming around her neighborhood that keep circling around, after the text message from G, she's getting kind of freaked out." a rusteling of trees wasn't exactly the most comforting noise after what we had just heard, and the way Peter tensed, didn't exactly ease my nervouseness.

a single cloacked figure makes its way over to us, it's walk incorrect, dragging the left leg with each labored step, all that was seen was black. 

"go," Peter's voice was almost too quiet to hear, his breath quickening, "go! split up, two groups he can only chase one, stick together!" He yanked at my hand, pulling me to my feet, I was about to argue, but I saw his face and something told me to shut it, probably the green orbs laced with fear that stared into mine. I gave a short nod, before taking off.

I knew there were people behind us, but I couldn't tell who. it was a blur once we started runnning, especially because the figure seemed to understand what we were doing, and began racing at it's top speed his leg only tripping his a few times. 

I shut my eyes tight, I had seen something like it in a nightmare, the kind I'd get when the wind would rustle through the trees at night, and footsteps would echo whenever a irregular night jogger would pass by, and I was left alone in my tent. Peter's hand still clasped my wrist, but I don't think he knew, it seemed to be more to comfort him than me. Still, I kept a steady pace with him, not bothering to turn back and see who was behind us, not yet at least. I couldn't bring myself to turn around and face the figure, I didn't want to see what was under the large hood. 

leaves crunched beneath every footstep, and wind whirled around us, blowing my hair into my face, I wanted to brush it away, but everytime i did, it was swept back into place. 

Finally, we reach what I called home. 

My tent left untouched, I assumed whatever that figure was it didn't seem to interested in some random supplies in the woods. Good. 

The tent it's self was big, family sized, Thank you Costco! I dove through the flaps, and feel agaisnt my sleeping bag, closing my eyes, and trying to get my breathing back to normal. Peter's hand left my arm, and I heard a faint zipping sound; he must have closed the tent.

I sat up, Aster, Pheobe, Peter and Me, the others must have gone somewhere else, I hope they're okay.  

"are we even allowed to be in here? I mean what if the owner of this stuff come by?" Pheobe said, mostly to herself. she looked around at my stuff, her eyes laid on a small cardboard box of stuff I got from home. she crawled over to a small stack of papers held in place by a nice rock I had found, those were my achevements, my best work. she picked up my last English Essay. "Ceira, why do you have papers here?" she asked softly, rifily through each. and every. one. 

"well, my folks didn't have the decencey to my good grades on the fridge so I thought I'd uh," I stopped, figuring my joke wasn't exactly gonna help my case. "I kinda live here," I said plainly. 

I looked at Pheobe, ready for her to rub it in my face, for a smug look to cross over her and to pull a painful jab at me. 

Her face held something I had never seen in Pheobe Smith, "oh." 

submitted by Annabeth C
(December 5, 2018 - 1:08 am)

ok I sound really mean I'm sorry! 

This story is really amazing so far.

But it's spelled PHOEBE

sorry my best friend's name is Phoebe and she hates it when people misspell it Pheobe 

submitted by ...
(December 5, 2018 - 4:20 pm)

AHHH OMG IM SO SORRY!!!!!!! @zues I've been spelling Phoebe's name wrong and I feel so bad!!!! @whoever was ... No worries that not mean at all, the letters totally just mixed up in my head, really sorry again to Phoebe's everywhere

submitted by Annabeth C
(December 5, 2018 - 6:00 pm)

Haha it's fine, I didn't even notice! Phoebe is kind of a hard name to spell.

submitted by Zeus, Idaho
(December 5, 2018 - 7:07 pm)

Phoebe

~

Oh. Okay.

The worst part is the look Ceira's giving me, like she expects me to make fun of her for the way she lives. Does she really think I'm that callous?

I'd almost like to tell Ceira something about myself in return – like how I'm almost certain that my parents are really my grandparents, which means that my "sister" who lives in Canada is my mother and I don't know who my father is. But, I don't know. The way Peter's acting around Ceira, holding her hand even when the danger is past and all that... I don't know. This feels like it's maybe not the right place to say anything.

I shiver even with someone's sweatshirt over my cheer uniform and pull my knees up to my chest. My legs are freezing; the short cheer skirts are designed to look cute for five minutes, not to be worn all night. 

Aster breaks the somewhat awkward silence. "Do you think we're safe?" he asks.

"I don't know," Peter says nervously. "Do you know who that guy was?"

Aster shakes his head. "He ran crazy fast for someone with a limp, though."

"Do you think we should text the others to see if they're okay?" I ask.

I wonder if Ceira's going to say it's a dumb idea for some reason or another, but she's surprisingly subdued. She glances at me and then looks away. "Yeah, maybe."

Aster takes out his phone, probably texting one of the others. I take out my phone, too, to check for updates on Callysta. Nothing, just a Facebook message from some freshman asking to interview me about cheer. I text him that I'm busy right now but maybe some time next week.

Which makes me wonder, actually: "How long do you think saving the world will take?" I ask.

It occurs to me again that Ceira has a chance to come up with some witty retort to make me look stupid. But again, she doesn't do it. She just shrugs. Peter answers, "You could ask Professor G."

I nod. "Sure." I find my newly created chat with her and text her: How long will saving the world take?

She texts back within thirty seconds: Not the issue now. You, Peter, Aster and Ceira need to move immediately. You're in grave danger.

 

submitted by Zeus, Idaho
(December 5, 2018 - 4:48 pm)