cara-mrrsn

[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?"

[cara-mrrsn]

Lips pursing out, Cara rolled her eyes, a scoff falling from her lips. Pathetic - it was just so pathetic. She obviously had known that cops were stupid, but holy fuck. They really were out here lowering the bar. "So the same shit they've been asking," she said. She drawled the words out, unimpressed with the entire thing - though there was a hint of frustration as well, not that she was letting that show. Cara shrugged, sighing as she glanced at her phone. "Yeah," she answered. "In a few. Honestly, with how bad at this shit they are, I'm surprised they didn't forget about me all together."

"They didn't really say anything when I told them to fuck off, I kinda just left," Ollie said, taking a cigarette from Cara with a small thank you though he wasn't actually planning on smoking it. But he imagined she was asking more generally what did they ask about, not just after that. "But like they asked me like about my relationship with Greer again. They asked if I knew anything I hadn't mentioned yet, and they asked if I had any reason to think she was… y'know. Gone-gone." He knew Cara and Greer didn't have much of a great relationship but he still hesitated to talk about her possibly being dead. But he had a problem speaking about death in general, he was finding. "They asked about Ida and Penny as well. And where I was during those times, what was going on and stuff. And they asked about the fire in the commons and where I was, and why people were gathered there instead of the gala that the school was holding. And they asked about Sam, then I told them to fuck off." That was pretty much what happened. "They might have also asked about G," he said, his face screwing up in thought, "I don't remember… I didn't really say anything to them. Y'know. You don't have to actually say anything to them at all. So I mostly didn't." He tried not to. "Are you going to go talk to them? Or nah?"

[cara-mrrsn]

Cara frowned, her full lips turning downwards, settling into a pout that looked almost more natural on her face than any hint of amusement as reality crept back in. Perhaps joking about a funeral hadn’t been the best way to move past the reality of her sister being dead. Allegedly. Maybe. Presumably. Declaredly. “Can you have a funeral if you don’t know if they are actually dead?” she said, her voice low, mouth tightening as she glanced down - first, just to the railing, then to the ground far below. A moment of silence - for Greer, perhaps, or maybe just for the brief moment of amusement they had floored past - and then Cara grabbed her bottle of vodka again, swigging from it with ferocity. 

Monty's arms buckled as he snorted, jerking forward with a barking laugh, letting his head hang to stare down at the ground once more. "I should've guessed that," he murmured, suddenly now picturing Cara's eventual funeral. It was all so morbid and weird; the exact sort of thing they shouldn't have been entertaining, but the absurdity was still somehow easier to stomach. "Open casket and a DJ, right?" Monty's gaze cut back to Cara, smile twisting into a joking smirk. Taking a step back from the roof's ledge, he forced himself to stand up straight, a complaining groan exhaled as he briefly bounced up onto his tippy-toes, arms stretched high above his head. He stared up at the vibrantly clear sky, counted to five, and let his arms drop, landing flat-footed and staring at Cara. "Y'think your parents will wanna do a funeral for Greer? A, uh… celebration of life or whatever?"

[cara-mrrsn]

“It was Link,” Cara pointed out, eyebrows arching high on her forehead. “How hard do I really have to try with that?” They were pretty much her parent's worst nightmare - but had been nothing more than what they expected of Cara, the loss of the shock value making the entire stunt less exciting.

And then he had chosen Greer over her regardless - despite Cara being the one to go to bat over him with her family.

Cara's lips parted slightly, considering for a moment. "Charlie's dad?" she echoed, a pensive look coming over her features. "You think she'd call me mom?" she asked, a faux innocence coming to her features. "But no - I like Charlie. It'd be so much more fun if it's someone I'd want to torment."

"I'm sure you didn't try hard enough. Plenty of unsavoury characters to pick from here." Plus, if she'd picked up any vibes from Greer over the year that they had known each other, it was this: the Morrisons didn't seem like a hard crowd to disappoint.

"Oh, oh, oh -" Anya says, pursing their lips for a moment while they allow themselves to think through the possibilities. "I feel like Charlie's dad may be the most obvious target."

[cara-mrrsn]

A blink of her eyes, a blank expression as Cara stared down Nat for a moment, before one corner of her lips twitched upwards, a slyness to the smirk that would send someone wiser than she counted on Nat being running. Did she particularly want her roommate's company? No. She didn't really want anyone's company. But the only thing worse would be being alone, with only her misery and no one to drown out her thoughts. "Only one way to find out," Cara pointed out, her voice lazy as she shrugged up a shoulder, a hand lifting to motion for the bartender to bring her another round of shots in the same movement.

Frustration had Nat gritting her teeth, looking at Cara like she couldn't possibly begin to unweave the tangled threads of her mind. What did she want here? Did she want Nat to stay? Why? So she could wear her down with passive aggressive barbs to make herself feel better?

But ugh, her stupid ego. There was something about a challenge that made her need to be defiant overrule her ability to think logically. Logically, she should walk away. Logically, the only way from here was down.

Egoistically?

Nat shouldered back out of her jacket and dropped it over the back of her chair. "I'm fully capable of having a good time." Her brows lowered; challenge accepted and returned. "Are you?"

[cara-mrrsn]

"You have no idea," Cara drawled, leaning forward to grab her bottle again, a long swig following her lament. She turned around so she could lean her back against the ledge that presumably prevented anyone from falling off the roof. Easy enough to climb off and jump though, but she'd never consider such a thing. Her head tilted back, her back arching, leaning backwards as far as she could, her hair dangling out in the open air as the blood rushed towards her head. She considered Monty's proposition for a moment - she really did, turning to glance towards him before she made a noise of dissent. “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Car wreck would make the funeral closed casket only. I plan on still being beautiful in my coffin.” So perhaps she would consider jumping - if only for the drama of it all, rather than the actual act.

Accepting the bottle, he finally glanced away from the skyline, eyeing Cara as he took a wincing drink. He tried not to cough while she spoke, stifling the sound in his shoulder before he croaked out, mildly astonished, "He told you off?" About what? His gut instinct was to say that it didn't make sense. That it was too selfish of a move to be Edward… and then he thought about his own sister and how very likely it was that they'd be bitching each other out in a time of crisis, too. It was easier to pick a fight than face reality. Delay the inevitable crash of worse emotions. Still, Monty shook his head and scoffed in solidarity with Cara, "That's fucked up."

Monty set the water bottle on the roof's edge, closer to Cara as he slouched forward, elbows braced and feet still firmly planted a safe foot or so back. He peered down at the ground, slowly gathering as much saliva in his mouth as he could, letting it blob together on his tongue before spitting. They were so far up that he couldn't even hear the wet splat! of it hitting the ground. "Wanna drive full speed into a brick wall?" Monty glanced at Cara, smiling morosely. "I'll join you."

[cara-mrrsn]

who: @rhia-falla when: new years eve where: the hamptons house

One thing no one would ever say about Cara Morrison was that she was too subtle. Livid that another night was being taken away from her, centered around Greer and a mystery no one seemed any closer to solving, she had started drinking immediately, harder stuff shortly afterwards, and was absolutely blasted not long after everyone had started celebrating. Her pupils were huge in her dark eyes as she found Rhia in the crowd, grasping her arm and greeting her with a smirk and a flutter of her eyelashes. She didn't know what she was supposed to be doing with this question, what information could possibly be dangling in front of her with it, what Rhiannon, of all people, could offer that would provide any clarity - she had certainly debated not doing as G had prompted out of spite (a signature Cara move). But, if only to somehow ease her own conscious, she was tugging the girl she had been pointed towards away from the person she had been with, not even acknowledging them. "Rhia," Cara crooned, her voice thick with her lack of sobriety, pouting at her friend. Former friend? Who could ever really keep track with Cara? "Come do a line with me. It's the perfect party for it."

[cara-mrrsn]

Staying with Milo and Freddie had been preferable to in the past week to her normal housing situation at Ogden. At least Freddie, her opinion of Milo changing with the day, much like her feelings about Nat. Perhaps that separation was behind her ability to give Nat a kinder smile than usual. Or maybe it was just the alcohol and drugs. "Happy New Year," she crooned, lifting her glass of champagne to her lips so she could sip from it, her eyes still on Nat. Cara, perhaps rather famously with those who knew her, dealt with her pain and anger and any emotion, really, by lashing out at those around her, so perhaps it spoke to how irritated she was by the text that had kicked off the evening that she didn't even go for the objectively speaking low hanging fruit of jabbing at Natalia. "Thanks," she said, lips turning down slightly, a pout settling back onto her face. "Figured if tonight is going to suck, the least I could do is look good."

WHERE: nye party. WHO: @cara-mrrsn & nat.

Nat wouldn't go so far to say that G might have had her back a little bit on this one, but for the very first time, when her phone chimed and a message from G came in, she wasn't entirely filled with dread at the prospect of what it contained.

Until, of course, she realized that one of her own secrets might be floating around out there.

That was a problem for later, she decided, eyes scanning her peers for one face in particular. It was like the universe was working in her favor, the crowd parting like the Red Sea and carving out a path between bodies straight to Cara. Nat clung to this moment of bravery and sauntered towards her roommate. It was possible she'd just been handed the bargaining chip she needed— especially if she made it sound like she knew more than she actually did. But in time it took to close the distance, she made a deal with herself: if Cara could have a conversation with her without being rude or underhanded, then she would consider using her information to be helpful. If not, well...

"Hey," Nat said, her smile wide and friendly, even as her heart pounded out a wild rhythm in her chest. "Happy New Year. You look amazing in that dress."

[cara-mrrsn]

Ollie had had her attention even without the dangling of cocaine in front of her, but Cara was of course into the promise of him handing it over - because of course she’d win. Even though she could more than afford her own (and already had some on her). It was so much better when it belonged to someone else. "Deal," Cara immediately said, not even questioning why Ollie may want to do multiple shots in quick succession when he immediately self admitted he didn't typically drink much. It probably had something to do with the same reason Cara had no desire to be anywhere near sober. "Tequila?" she suggested, brushing her hair off one of her shoulders as she pulled Ollie towards the drinks.

NYE party sometime in the night after the texts [ @cara-mrrsn ]

"Ooh Cara!" Ollie said as he bounced towards her, wrapping his arms around one of hers and tilting his head towards hers as he looked down at her. "Come do shots with me," he encouraged, his demeanor clearly bright and giddy. Whether that had something to do with some substances already going through his system, or just the fact that he liked New Years Eve who knew. Only Ollie. "We'll do that thing … the thing where like you line up a bunch of shots and you see who can drink them faster." What was it called? He was sure there was a name for it. "I don't even drink a lot, so I'm sure you'll win…" But it would be fun in the mean time and that was all that mattered. "Winner gets the last of my coke."

[cara-mrrsn]

CARA MORRISON at the HAMPTONS NEW YEARS EVE

[cara-mrrsn]

"He cares?" Cara asked, her eyebrows arching up on her forehead in surprise at the idea that a parent may be invested in their child's life. She had gone through phases in her life - striving for perfect grades (parents never impressed) versus not trying in school at all (parents brushing the concern of the school off) - and had never managed to garner much interest either way. One of her parents concerned about how she was doing in school was completely a foreign concept. "Well," she said with a huff of air, as if she wasn't seething with jealousy internally. "He should relax. Stressing out over it will turn him and you gray - and over grades. They literally don't even matter."

"i know," charlie nodded emphatically. "apparently this is how we see our grades. my dad keeps texting me like, every twenty minutes asking if i got my finals back. i don't know what his damage is," she rolled her eyes. "like, how am i supposed to know?"

[cara-mrrsn]

"See? You have nothing to be worried about," Cara said, a dismissive wave of her hand accompanying the words once she had heard Ollie's plan. It seemed like a good one to her, though. Why should he continue worrying if he had it all figured out? Like, really, what else could he need? She reached in her bag, digging in it to pull out her cigarettes, all the discussion of it making her realize she needed one, ofering the carton towards Ollie as she flicked her lighter towards her own. "So what did they say that you told them to fuck off?" she asked, her tone blunt, if seeming disinterested despite the fact that she asked, no consideration that it may be something that Ollie didn't want to discuss. Greer was her sister, after all - she deserved to know.

"Thanks," he said, with a relieved smile when Cara agreed to bring him cigarettes when he was put in prison. That took a load off of his mind, although in his mind Prison was a lot more like TV than it really was, Sam had been telling him that whenever they chatted. But his panicked mind made it seem exactly like Prison Break or something. "Oh, yeah, for sure," Ollie said, laughing a little at Cara's question. "I have a whole plan. He doesn't even have to be hot, honestly. I'm not picky. I'm going to find the scariest guy in there who can protect me, and we're going to get prison married, and nobody will ever fuck with me. I've planned it all out." And maybe he had watched a little too much porn, but he was a twenty year old half Asian femme twink who was already (mostly) gay. He knew what his assets were in this situation. "I'll put it all in my memoirs and I'll put you first in the acknowledgements and say 'thank you to Cara Morrison who brought me cigarettes to barter with every month'."

[cara-mrrsn]

"Oh, I already tried that with Link. It was - unfortunately - a failure," Cara said, scoffing as she spoke, blunt with the reason as to why she dated Link. Was it true? Not fully - she had genuinely liked him, but she would rather die than admit that now, not when he was one of many that had chosen Greer over her. "Hence the appeal in moving into fathers, I suppose. Which of our fellow Ogdenian's do you think needs a new stepmom?" she asked, a sly smile crossing her face with the facetious question. Mostly facetious, at least. She was pretty sure.

"As long as it's not my dad, I'm all for it. I feel like we don't have enough chaos here." Murder, sure. Extortion, yes. Arson and blackmail and disappearances aplenty. But old-fashioned soap opera-style drama? The Ogden experience could do with some of that.

"Which of your classmates do you feel like your parents would like the least? I'll help set you up."

[cara-mrrsn]

Cara let out a snort of laughter, actual amusement in the sound. Toying with unsuspecting fathers - or older men in general, really - was enrichment for her. What an excellent way to put it. But no - she didn't want to hang around, hovering on the outskirts of other families, parents who actually had chosen to show up for their children. Even those as unsufferable as Milo's father. "No," she said with a sigh, tightening her coat around her as she took a few steps away from the wall she had been perching against. "I, for one, am going to get trashed off my ass." A smirk flashed across her face, as if this was her choice, as if she hadn't just wanted to get drunk until she and Edward had stumbled across her parents leaving their meeting with the dean, which had pushed her to the need to be absolutely obliterated. "Enjoy your father though," Cara said in a croon, one eyelid dropping in a wink at Milo.

He chuckled to himself, raising his eyebrows a bit as he repeated, "have to wear, sure." Anyone who said he couldn't make a joke at his own expense was wrong, okay? Whenever he could he would likely just wear gym shorts, and a hoodie (both overly expensive ones). What did you expect? He was an already attractive man, on a regular day when he didn't have to put in the effort he wasn't going to. Not to say anything about the fact he spent hours a week on his skin and hair, and (of course) in the gym -- so it wasn't like there was no effort. Not so much on fashion. "Hm," he said when Cara confirmed his suspicions, "you want me to find more unsuspecting fathers, and send them your way for enrichment. Or are you going to head out of here?"