cara-mrrsn

[cara-mrrsn]

"You have no idea," Cara replied, utterly serious, unable to even conceive that she may not perpetually be the utmost victim. In her mind, nearly everyone had it out for her. She wouldn't go into details (and yes, often found herself grasping for the horrors that had been enacted to her to convince whoever she was talking to that they were as serious as she took them, if she did) and elaborate - but her parents had made it clear often enough that they were not the biggest fans of Cara. When she did something they disapproved of - it was an insult. When she behaved to their expectations - it was no big deal. They already had Greer and Eddie doing that. No matter what she did, Cara was doomed to fail, and that was the tragedy.

And yes - she was conveniently ignoring their apparent dismissal of Edward for tonight as well. With a sigh, she tapped her own phone against the bar as Anya spoke, lips pursing out. Self-restraint. A concept she certainly wasn't familiar with. Maybe she should try it out though. Or not. "You should've," Cara said after a moment. "Our parents have more secrets than us."

"They really have it out for you, huh?" They prompt, the lack of rising intonation at the tail-end of the sentence rendering it more statement than question. That was one thing about Ogden Anya never ceased to make peace with. The sheer amount of people who lived their lives falling short of some arbitrary measuring stick put up by their own parents. Sure, her own parents were invested in her prospective success, but for the most part, they largely let them just be Anya. No snide comments, no sighs from across the dinner table, no pressure to fundamentally change who they were as a person. But they sense Cara may not want to talk about the particulars of upper-class socialisation.

"Thank you. I am full of great ideas. Like earlier, I saw someone's mum's phone lying on the table, and I was very tempted to look through it. But I didn't. Because I'm like, a beacon of self-restraint or something." Another sip of her drink.

[cara-mrrsn]

A laugh slid from Cara’s lips, the sound almost more of a sob as she nodded, a bitter smile appearing with the motion. “I suppose you’re right about that,” she said, her lips twisting sideways as she tried to keep the smirk on her face, though it wavered with the tears that continued to slip from her cheeks. She let Monty pull her in, standing still for a moment before her arms wrapped around his waist, hands pressed flat against the muscles on either side of his spine. She couldn’t say when the last time someone just…hugged her was. For comfort, for consolation, out of caring for her, platonically, no ulterior motives to it. 

And maybe he did have an ulterior motive. Maybe there was something Monty wanted from her, and maybe it was even something Cara wouldn't mind giving him. But for the moment at least - just for the moment - she relaxed into the grasp he had her in, indulging in feeling like she was being properly treated rather than mocked or simply placated. Pulling back slightly, Cara let another tear drip down her cheek as her eyes met Monty's, blinking wet lashes as her lips turned downwards ever so slightly further. "Sorry," she said in a whisper. "I didn't mean to bring you up here to cry all over you."

As Cara turned, Monty's hand dropped away from her back, although he had the immediate urge to reach out again. He could see the tears welling in her eyes, shiny and wet, streaking down her cheeks almost as if on cue, right as her hushed words wavered out. He'd seen Cara cry plenty before, turning on the waterworks in the face of hard-ass professors and cranky bartenders, but never like this. He'd never seen her so self-conscious, laid bare.

Monty shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible, and his voice just as quiet when he answered, "I don't know." A lump was forming in his throat, practically cutting off his ability to speak. He tried to swallow around it, frown turning into a grimace, too aware that nothing he could say or do would really be enough. Greer was dead. Cara's sister was dead. "I don't… I don't think it's something we're meant to understand." I don't think any reason will ever be enough. He wanted to offer her something concrete. He wanted to turn out his pockets and give Cara whatever she wanted, but what was there to give? Reaching out again, Monty's knuckles skimmed across her damp cheek before both his arms were winding around her shoulders, reeling her into a tight, unavoidable embrace.

[cara-mrrsn]

block me out (gracie abrams)

[cara-mrrsn]

"Oh, yeah," Cara said, sarcasm heavy in her voice as her eyes lifted up, meeting Parker's. The thing was, she hadn't been having a good time on break - how could she be, when she was being tortured over her sister's alleged death? But the grass is always greener, or whatever. Now that she was back, Cara would prefer pretty much anything else. "I just couldn't wait to be back on a campus where I get about as much privacy as a zoo animal," she said sardonically, her tone practically dripping with contempt. Not for Parker - probably - but for those whose eyes darted around, landing on Cara and moving away too quickly, like missing-dead-sister-ism was contagious if they looked for too long.

Or maybe they just agreed with whoever had said she seemed guilty of this all on New Year's. How did she really know who had been behind that, after all? She had her ideas, but...no way of knowing. Unless G decided to fess up.

who: @cara-mrrsn where: the commons when: first week back, before classes

parker couldn't bring the fresh coffee to her lips fast enough. the residual effects of g's new year's eve antics were still with her and her tried-and-true method of distraction wasn't exactly doable with classes not starting for another week. sure, she could've waited a few days to come back, but there was a sort of comfort that came with being around everyone.

even if everyone was suspicious. even if everyone was hiding something.

whatever, it's not my business, parker had told herself as she'd dropped her things off at her dorm and made her way to the commons. but now, with some much-needed caffeine in hand, she didn't really have anywhere to go. so, spotting cara on a nearby couch, parker made her way over and plopped right down.

"'ve you ever been so happy for a break to be over?"

[cara-mrrsn]

Cara paused when she saw Diego, nearly doing a double take, her lips parted slightly as she watched him walk away from the table he had claimed, retrieving his coffee. It only took a few seconds - once she had registered she wasn't imagining the familiar face, transposing it onto a stranger in some bout of wishful thinking - and then she was on the move, her shoulder bumping into someone in her way as she barged her way through the coffee shop to claim the seat opposite of the one he had.

His noticing her though, was awfully anti-climatic - like so much in Cara's life, it left something to be desired. "Oh, hey?" she echoed, the words thick on her tongue as a brow arched high on her forehead. "Really? That's the greeting I get?"

Where: Coffee Shop When: Earlyish in the morning among the first days back on campus Who: Open!

It had been late when Diego had arrived at Waverly, spending most of the night unpacking and checking up with his schedule to make sure that all his classes were in order for the new term. The next morning, though a very small part of him was dreading it, he couldn't actually put off showing up in public. Not when he needed a latte as much as he did. The coffee shop was full of grumpy students when he arrived. It was early enough in the morning that most of them were too concerned with themselves, and their own problems to pay him any mind. Which was welcome.

So, he ordered his latte and a whole grain muffin, before he headed to deposit his thing on an empty table while he waited for his name to be called. Diego scrolled on his phone for a while before he headed up to the counter to retrieve his order, paying and thanking the barista, before heading back to his table only to see that someone else had decided to join him. "Oh, hey," he greeted as he slowed to a stop at his table, taking a seat opposite the other person.

[cara-mrrsn]

who: @morrisxn02 when: new years, after midnight where: the hamptons house to the morrisons

After apparently being excused of her sister's death, and then subsequently cleared - at least by trial of a jury of peers, which, was essentially the United States justice system - Cara was clearly no longer in a party mood. No - she was drunk, a little bit high (maybe more than a little), and now she was pissed off. With her face not hiding any of that, she grabbed a bottle of champagne (okay, two), storming through the house until she found the person she was looking for.

Her brother.

Cara reached out, grabbing Edward's arm, and pulling him around to face her. "Let's go," she said, holding out the second bottle of champagne towards him. "I'm done with putting up with this shit."

[cara-mrrsn]

"Exhausted? Me?" Cara asked, her hand lifting to her chest, pressing against her sternum as she batted her lashes at Link, the flutter accompanying his steps closer, though she showed no other reaction. Not even stepping backwards, though she did wonder if it was smart to allow such little distance between them. "As a matter of fact, yes. Exhausted by not being treated the way I should. Exhausted by people using me for my sister. Exhausted by you." She rattled off the list, preening under Link's lingering appraisal, though the act fell off a moment later, as they reminded her of her behavior. "How did I act, Link?" she asked, her voice sharper than it had been just a moment ago. "Because the way I see it, you had a boyfriend the entire time. You moved on." Sure she had found that all out after she had already rejected him after a summer spent doing the exact opposite, but that was a moot point. Link and Cara's entire game, ever since the Greer of it all, over two years ago at this point, was them essentially trying to figure out who had wronged who. Well, Cara didn't need to figure it out - she knew she had been wronged. It was more Link refusing to see it, and her trying to make him.

his smirk falters only slightly at cara's glare, but he masks it quickly with his usual bravado. "you're right," he says, lifting his hands as it in surrender, through his tone was anything but apologetic. "you're not holding a grudge. you're nurturing it. watering it daily, giving it plenty of sun. aren't you exhausted?"

he steps a little closer, lowering his voice and tilting his head. "if that's what you want, then sure — don't let me stop you. just thought that maybe we could upgrade to... i don't know, basic indifference for the night? or is that too ambitious?" his gaze lingers on her for a moment, searching for a crack in her armor. if link didn't once care for this girl so much, he wouldn't keep trying with her — it was hard to even deny that he doesn't still care.. despite the fact that she was a bratty bitch most of the time. that was just the thing, though; link's favorite parts of people were the worst sides of them. it made him feel less alone. "you know, i should hate you, too, for what you did and how you acted after last summer. but i don't. i'm just hoping there's a part of you that doesn't want to hate me, either."

[cara-mrrsn]

"I suppose we can do some sort of tequila lemon drop," Cara acquiesed, though she wasn't actually sure if that was a thing. She wasn't exactly a...refined drinker, being that she was 21 and more focused on getting obliterated then refining her palette most nights. "Was there sugar?" she asked absentmindedly, even as she grabbed a lemons to slice without waiting for an answer. Whatever. It would work regardless. Cara gave her head a sharp nod, lifting up her first glass and locking her eyes onto Ollie's. As she counted down them down from three, she may have (purposefully) accidentally sloshed some of her glass out. Yes, she wanted to be drunk. But most importantly - she wanted to win. Halfsing a shot or two only helped make that happen. It wasn't cheating - it was strategy.

A strategy that worked, Cara slamming down her last glass ahead of Ollie, giving a shimmy with one arm up in celebration as she bit down on the lemon, her entire face puckered up. "God, that was awful," she said once she was fairly certain the tequila wasn't going to make it's way back up. "You have terrible ideas," she said, even as she racked the shot glasses back up into a line, refilling them up. If Ollie didn't want to go again, she was sure someone would.

"Uhmmmmm…." Ollie said, as he looked around the kitchen for some sort of fruit while Cara prepared the drinks. Limes preferably. But anything. Rich people had fruit around all the time, right? He swore he had some for breakfast. "Ah!" He said, spotting the fruit basket and going to look through it, procuring a couple of lemons. "Looks like all the limes are already used up. I didn't see any salt. But will these work?" Shots were not really Ollie's thing, but he assumed citrus fruit was citrus fruit. Limes and lemons were basically the same thing. He pulled four of the glasses towards himself. "You want to count us down?"

[cara-mrrsn]

"Sure," Cara said with a shrug of one shoulder, lifting a hand up to brush a finger at the corner of her lips, cleaning up a non-existent lipstick smudge, her makeup as flawless as the emotionless glance she gave Nat. "I wouldn't count on it, though," she said, an eyebrow quirking up a moment later, clucking her tongue as if she was reprimanding Natalia. In a way, she was. Foolish of the girl to expect anything good to happen at a party with this group of people - the sooner she learned that, the better, really. It ws astounding to Cara that she hadn't already, to be honest. "Haven't you ever noticed the harder you try to turn things around...the less likely it is they actually do?"

Nat was watching Cara carefully, sure there would be immediate and obvious disdain on her face the moment she realized it was Nat who had deigned to approach her. When she showed none, Nat faltered a little in her plan. She took a sip of her drink and waited. She could find offense in the fact that her compliment wasn't returned, but she would never expect that from Cara. Not unless an alien literally crawled inside her body and took over. So, instead, she decided to play dumb, pretend like maybe she hadn't been wrapped up in G's demented little playground. Her head canted to the side, swirling the liquid around in her glass. "Tonight's only getting started, plenty of chances for things to turn around, right?"

[cara-mrrsn]

"Ew." Cara's entire face screwed up like she had just bit into something sour, not at all hiding what she felt about that. Clearly, Charlie felt the same way though, so her reaction wasn't exactly a concern. She reached over, running a strand of Charlie's bleached hair between her fingers, a look of consideration coming over her face, her conversation with Anya at Thanksgiving coming to mind for a moment as they discussed Charlie's father. That was besides the point though. "Men deserve to go bald," she said, dropping the strand of hair unceremoniously. "Especially fathers. Let him stress. It's, like, reverse karma or something."

“he’s literally up my asshole right now.” charlie’s father generally cared to keep her at arm’s length, only checking in when something was damaged irreparably- he didn’t care when she was getting blackout drunk in high school, but cared when she wrapped his benz around a tree, hadn’t cared when she was sleeping out every night, but cared when she callously dumped one of his client’s daughters and lost his firm the business. “somehow he had no questions about my grades until i quit that dumb job he got me last summer. now i think he’s ready to buy the school a new library if they’ll just let me graduate. the stress can’t be good for him, he has no hair. and look at us - we never stress and we're gorgeous."

[cara-mrrsn]

"No," Cara said, a hint of a pout settling onto her lips as she answered. "They'd probably love him, wonder why I was dating him or vice versa, and then on top of that, I'd be absolutely bored to death. Not worth it at all," she said. She paused, before shrugging, shaking her hair out like she was brushing it off - like it was a side thought, an easy comment, and not something she had considered from every angle, something to just brush past and rather than an internal debate she frequently had. "Oh, I don't know. No one particular." A lie - there were plenty of people she wanted to torment. But none she felt like getting into at the moment or explaining to Anya. "But conceptually - it's not a bad idea."

"Depends - how often do you bring unsavoury characters home?" They ask, drink lifted halfway to their mouth. "Like, is the shock value potentially greater if you brought the most straight-laced person you could find?"

"Only to get under your skin," she echoes, lifting the drink the rest of the way, taking a sip. "Like who? Who would you want to torment?"

[cara-mrrsn]

Cara stiffened when she felt Monty's hand land on her shoulder, her instinct to cringe away, brush it off, act like she didn't need the comfort he was attempting to bestow. She was fine. Greer was gone - but she was fine. She didn't need to be tip toed around. But deep down, in actuality - all Cara ever wanted was to be acknowledged. For what she was going through, for the difficulties she faced, catered to and treated like her reactions were not just appropriate, but justified.

Her eyes closed as his hand slid down her back, Cara dragging in a slow inhale through her nose. Her pain should be indulged. With a shaky exhale, she turned towards Monty, looking at him with tear rimmed eyes, drunk enough that her ability to cry at the drop of a pin was even easier reached upon, the tears seeming to have been just waiting for an excuse to spill from her eyes. "I don't get it," she said, voice barely above a whisper. "Why is this happening? Why Greer? Why us? Why me?" she asked, her voice breaking on the last word as a hand reached up to brush away the tears tracking down her cheeks.

'I think so,' was the logical answer that Monty had locked and loaded, a myriad of cited sources and examples at the ready to back it up, but he bit his tongue. He watched Cara from a few steps away and wished he hadn't said anything at all. He wished he hadn't invited her up to the roof, either, vigilant of the way that she stared down at the ground. Monty wore a pained, creased look, nearly wincing at the thought of the water bottle of vodka -- or worse -- being flung over the edge. There was nothing to be said, nothing that could be done, no more witty quips for him to offer. Greer had left a chasm in their lives that was impossible to ignore.

Monty sighed softly, his shoulders sagging with it, as if letting go of some intangible thing he'd been clinging to until right then. And, in a way, he had been, he guessed. Because he no longer worried about Cara's perception of him as he approached her this time. Still unspeaking, he touched her shoulder, hand resting there for a few beats before squeezing. It was meant to be a comfort. An invitation to a hug, or a signal that they could continue to just stand in silence together, but he had no idea how Cara would take it. Monty felt foggy on how anyone took his company, unless it came with a fistful of painkillers. His palm slid down and smoothed towards the center of her back.

[cara-mrrsn]

Ollie nodded his head at the question. There were some new things added in there, but mostly it was just the same vibes it had always been. That they didn't really know any more of what was going on then everyone else. Maybe they even knew less. "Aw," he said, eyes moving back to Cara, and giving her a sad look. "You're Greer's sister, I'm sure they won't forget about you," he said, genuinely trying to be reassuring. Though if you asked him maybe it would just be best if they forgot about all of them all together. "Anyway, I'm going to go get some coffee. Or crack maybe. I haven't decided. Good luck in there. Don't tell them to go kill themselves like I accidentally did." Or maybe he'd just thought that really really hard. "I'll see you later, Cara."

end.

[cara-mrrsn]

"Perfect," Cara said in a coo, sauntering over towards the bar to search for tequila - plenty of bottles, including some expensive ones (which was naturally what she grabbed). She carried it back over towards Ollie, holding it aloft with a smirk on her face as the shot glasses were set up. With a sardonic salute, she cracked the bottle open so she could begin to fill up their shot glasses, glancing at Ollie out of the corners of her eyes. "Do you want to find salt and limes or are we doing this without a chaser?" she asked, a smirk quirking up one side of her lips, half tempted to do them without the chaser, despite knowing how horrible it would be. Maybe because of how horrible it would be. It would be a bragging point. Or something.

He grunted. Something between a disgusted sound, and an accepting one. He hated tequila, but she could have literally listed just about any alcohol and he would have felt the same way. "Tequila for sure," he said. He wasn't trying to get drunk. Not really. But if that was what happened he wouldn't be upset about it. "You get the booze, I will get the glasses," Ollie said, nodding his head once before breaking off with Cara to scavenge for shot glasses. It turned out to not be too difficult. They weren't in some random off campus party where all the glasses were mismatched either. He managed to find four for both of them and wondered if that was enough. "I'd been hoping for five but… this will have to do," he said over to Cara, then bounced in excitement, "fill them up!"

[cara-mrrsn]

If things had gone the way Cara wanted, they would've gone and done a line, and she would've not bothered to bring up the question. Or asked it casually, while admiring her reflection and making sure there was no cocaine residue on her nostrils. Unfortunately, probably because the universe was against Cara, that's not the way it went. Rhia stopped, digging her feet in, not even going to the bathroom with Cara, betraying the universal girl code. Looked like they would be having this out here then. A crinkle of her nose, her upper lip curling up slightly, Cara pulled her hands out of Rhia's grasp, crossing her arms in front of her chest anyways. She looked at Rhia, her head angling ever so slightly towards one shoulder, a gleam coming to her eyes. "Why, Rhiannon? What exactly do you think is going to happen?" she asked, venom coating her voice.

Nothing could be done about the circumstances of the night, but Rhia could always make the best of it. In fact, her time was almost enjoyable the more she ignored the anxiety about someone out there knowing something a bit too personal about her. Enter in Cara, a stumbling, inebriated ball of chaos sent from the depths of hell to test Rhia's resilience. She let Cara pull her away, shifting ever so slightly to give her friend a proper goodbye. She smiled when she turned back to Cara, forever pleased to hear her name on the lips of another.

Her face fell in an instant, stony and spooked. Not an out-of-character request from Cara in the slightest, but tonight? Why, when it had been so close to almost normal night? Her brows pulled together with a look of concern, an uneasy grimace played at her lips. "I don't know, Cara. I mean..." She grabbed Cara's hands, slowing her down to a stop and steadying her. She shook her head, allowing the silence to linger. "I just, I don't want you to overdo it. You already seem... I just mean, I don't think it's a good idea," she spoke softly. She knew already how the other would take it. Cara would snap and lash out at her, perhaps scorn her forever. As unfortunate as that sounded, Rhia could live with it.

[cara-mrrsn]

Things had been so nice with her and Link not running into each other. Cara wasn't sure if it was intentional on their part or not, but she knew she delighted in it. Momentarily, at least, and between the being hurt that he didn't actually commit to trying to get her to forgive him. Mostly, though, she just took validation from the fact that they weren't seeking her out. She had been right all along - all the meltdowns, the freaking out, the paranoia...it had been justified. And Cara had been thrilled that it appeared like he wasn't invited to the party, his late arrival something she decidedly ignored, even though there weren't that many of them there.

Unfortunately, Link chose to break that lovely streak of not interacting, appearing from behind her like some sort of horror movie villain, Cara just giving him a glare out of the corner of her eyes, sighing as she lifted her drink to sip from before looking at him fully and deigning to answer. "Is it really still considered a grudge if it's a reaction to months of being lied to and disrespected?" she asked. Just a touch overdramatic. Not in Cara's opinion, though. All this? This was the least Lincoln Crawford deserved.

— CLOSED STARTER

who: @cara-mrrsn where: NYE party

link was sitting at the end of the staircase when he caught sight of cara across the room. the low thrum of the party music was playing all throughout the house, but all he could hear was the tension that was left hanging in the air between them. she looked good — better than she had any right to, considering everything.

they down the rest of their drink, and eventually made their move towards her. they haven't spoken to cara since she had blown up on them when they returned from the summer — the same one they spent together in between sheets. after that, link had sworn to avoid her and her unresolved issues (pot calling kettle black) from now on. but he just couldn't help himself tonight. "cara." he greets her, coming into her view from behind her. "you still holding a grudge, or can we pretend to be civil tonight?" his tone was kept playful with a slight edge to it, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

[cara-mrrsn]

“Fuck you,” Cara said lazily, no actual bite in her voice. Though perhaps that was because she was too hungover to much behind it. She let out a pitiful whine when Freddie denied her the water, even as he was already gesturing towards the other side of the bed, even glancing over and seeing the glass not stopping the pout that she had on her face. "You're so mean to me," she said as she reached up to grab it, taking a few long gulps from it, giving him a sideways glance at Freddie as she drank. "Unfortunately," she said, setting the water back onto the nightstand and slumping down, snuggling into his side. "It has to be total bullshit, right?"

as freddie sinks onto the bed beside cara, the strong scent of stale alcohol wafts off her, making him grimace sharply. "bro, you stink." it's a strange place to be -- he knows he should be relieved, but at least you could sleep off a hangover. this discomfort felt embedded into his skin, like there was no escape. "this is mine," he says, then juts his chin towards the bedside table on the other side, where he'd left a glass of water when he'd woken up early morning. rolling onto his side, he asks, "have you seen the text?"