novadodson

[novadodson]

"I suppose that depends what you define as a ghost." That made all the difference at the end of the day; what you chose to see, what you chose to believe. There had been things Nova had encountered that others might, and had, argued was something — he'd never been so sure. "I've witnessed some things not so easily explained but to say concretely what they are? I'm not sure I have the evidence for that." The expression that had taken on a more solemn appearance is drawn back into amusement with Lola's own words, own experiences. "I'm not so sure that constitutes as abandoned, baby. Though, I suppose you can now add this charming building to your roster."

"And do you ever find any?" She asks, head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Ghosts, I mean?" Lola had never really taken the time to consider whether ghosts felt real to her, but she was a romantic at heart, and there was something about ties so strong that they prevented you from leaving this plane of existence that held a certain appeal to her. "Closest I've gotten to an abandoned house was pet-sitting for my aunt, I think."

[novadodson]

A single brow cocks with the sudden sound that leaves his lips, appearing confused for the reason he's making it. And he is — or at least for a second, until he pairs the first part of the word with the rest and Nova has to press their tongue into their cheek in order to keep from grinning. So he had noticed the 'slip up', and even more important, it was getting to him. That was satisfactory. "Relax, Keith." They reach a hand to pat his own, an adult comforting a worked up child. "I know your name." Then they finally move out of his eye line, press their hips into the elevator wall, if only so that the smirk blossoming onto their features wasn't so apparent. "Ooh...are we going to start a juicy rumor that I'm G? That could make for an exciting sophomore year." It might be concerning if he thought Heath would actually put forth the effort to get the word spreading, but something in his own brain chimed that his attention span simply did not have the wherewithal to get the job done. "Though, I mean...I would be careful who you decide to play that little game with. I am somewhat of a genius." Were. They were a genius. But hey, Nova didn't need to brag, did he?

"He -" he began correcting, dragging out the phlegmy sound far more than was necessary, "He - He - it's He-ath." Strung all together like that, Heath clunkily became 'He-eeth-uh,' but he was sure that Nova got the picture, because there was no way in hell that he wasn't mispronouncing it (AKA saying the wrong name entirely) on purpose to begin with. He finally looked over at them, eyes widening a touch for added emphasis as he directed, "Say it with your throat." If you looked really close, maybe there was a sparkle of something enjoyably snarky in his eyes, a twitch to his lips that evened out in a second flat, not quite forming the smirk he was bound for. Heath shook his head and blinked back to the elevator doors. "I'm not all that into anyone watching me without knowing about it beforehand," he said, giving a laborious sigh. "You pulling pages from G's playbook now?" He wasn't one to gossip, but that sure could be an interesting rumor if it grew legs...

[novadodson]

NEVE CAMPBELL Wild Things, 1998

[novadodson]

Why are you problematic

just for fun

[novadodson]

"I'm trying to share my intimate sufferings with you right now and you see how you're acting." If, of course, by intimate sufferings, they meant the most surface level of Nova's misfortune, a problem that wasn't really a problem at all. It wasn't that he didn't like Monty enough to offer more substance — he did and that was the hindrance, that ever lingering fear that diving any deeper into who he was would drive people away. That — and the small issue of his refusal to confront his own demons. "It's seriously a good thing you're here for sociology and not psychology."

"It actually really should be. — In fact, I'm quite offended that it wasn't." Given their previous discussions, any such horrific idealizations should conjure Nova to the forefront of his mind, even if the thoughts only existed to toy with oneself in a moment of dramatic self pity. "Alright, cool it, Claremont. You're pushing into I have a black friend territory. I totally believe that you aren't prejudiced against lesbians." Words carefully enunciated to hint at the opposite, even as their hands lift in mock surrender, an expression that says they fear for retaliation if they speak anything to the contrary. "Did one like...break your heart or some shit? Was it your mom?"

Nova notices the shift in energy, something he assumes is likely due to the realization that they've reached their destination and he now has to make a decision on whether he wants to continue catching up or seclude himself. Thankfully, despite what seemed to be sudden tension, Monty doesn't seem to hesitate on the offer. "Oh, come on, Princess. Even if you'd done something wrong, I'm not sure I could beat you up looking like this." Fingers lift to tug at one of the lengthy bits of hair in as if to make a point, lips drawing downwards in a most dramatic pout. "It'd be like kicking an abandoned puppy — and I may be all kinds of deplorable but I'm not evil."

"And how would I know about all your intimate sufferings? You're the one who doesn't kiss and tell," he sniped right back, always loving a quick turnaround on being able to throw someone's words back in their own face. His mouth had tugged crooked, lips curling upwards in a private smile as his eyes remained steadily ahead, marching along while listening to Nova's endless wit. It was a comforting change of pace, differing from his variable self-isolation -- both enacted within the four walls of his dorm and the anonymity he'd found in the crowds at recent parties. Chatter felt good, he'd missed it. "Mm, no, you're totally right. When I think castration, the name Nova really should be the first thing that comes to mind." Monty clucked his tongue before continuing, "Go ahead and pass on my number, though, sure. I like lesbians. My roommate is a lesbian. I could use more lesbian friends. Even if they don't wanna put my balls in a vice." Preferably if they didn't want to, actually. He wasn't genuinely trying to live out any sort of Hostel fantasy, but simply being dramatic. Monty swung his arms, hands catching behind his back, clasping one wrist with his fingers and squeezing tight, holding his arms taught while they drew near to Waverly. "Wanna come up?" he invited, "I'm just gonna smoke for a while." It felt lackluster to admit, like he was breaking some sort of spell of mystery, but he doubted Nova had any grand ideas about him. He glanced his way, eyebrows lifting slowly. "Unless you actually chased after me to kick my ass in light of… well, y'know. Ollie stuff. In that case, invitation revoked, sorry. I gotta think of my health and well-being, too."

[novadodson]

"I don't think sex is satisfactory for anyone if it's not being curated to fit them. — Or at least...not as satisfactory as it could be." It was an important aspect of having a genuinely pleasant experience, wasn't it? Being able to understand and alter the circumstances in order to better align with your partners needs. Everyone had different tastes and preferences; unlikely you would end up with two people who were searching for the exact same things in the bedroom, if you were really taking the time to seek out their desires. "Toys aren't just for single use, baby." They could be, of course — but Nova was pro-toys at any point, with anyone. A tool that tended to enhance experiences rather than diminish them. "Though I'm not sure focusing on them and refraining from sex is the proper tool for gaining back someone's trust." After all, it hadn't been the physical act that had landed him and Monty in their mess — but he was sure Ollie didn't need the reminder. "Have you talked to him?"

"Thanks, Ol." Nova had never been great with words and letters — but they did feel guilty; guilty knowing that Sam was locked away when she shouldn't have been, guilty knowing what that place could be like that, guilty knowing there was little they could do to help her, and guilty knowing they couldn't even be there for her in the way she deserved. He'd find the words, he had to. "I might just take you up on that."

His next question completely stills Nova, fingers locking around the item in his hands and eyes pressing shut. He wanted to tell Ollie yes, to give him the assurance that he was sure he needed in that moment — but it wasn't that simple. "She's doing just fine." A pause before he turns, smiles, like all is well. "It's Sam. If anyone can find a way to thrive in prison, it's her." Though as soon as the joke leaves their lips, even they grimace — it wasn't exactly humorous material. "There's not much we can do, Ollie. Interaction is the best thing for her. — And putting money on her books, which...I've been trying to be regular about. Not that I'm sure she'll bother using it." Though he wishes she would. It was the help he could offer that wasn't legal, that would grant some assistance and hopefully, something to ease the strain on her grandparents, both mentally and financially. "Everything else is just...waiting til this shit gets dropped or they resolve it in court." Which it would — it had to.

Seven times out of ten a guy with a dick not knowing what to do with it felt about right to Ollie. Hooking up with ten guys and only having a good time with about three of them lined up pretty well with his experiences, might even be over estimating. "You know, my sex life became so much better when I actually started curating it to the people I actually know," he admitted, as if that was groundbreaking. But it had really helped him. He fell off the wagon during a few points during the summer for reasons, but he was back on it again now. Though after a moment of staring at the books in front of him for much too long he turned to look at Nova. "Maybe just sticking to toys is a good idea. You know, cut out the other person entirely. Right? Just stop fucking around with people. Like that might solve a lot of my problems. Monty doesn't trust me… Maybe it'll help show him that he can." Ollie looked sheepish, and shook his head, "is that stupid? I don't know… Maybe it's a good idea." He muttered as he turned back to the shelf. Ollie snorted, tilting his head back a little bit, "I'd offer to look but Ash hates me already for some reason. So, it's probably best if I stay about 50 yards away from him at all times." 'For some reason'.

He nodded his head a little bit. That made sense he supposed. If Sam's grandpa had thought he would be bad for Sam's image then he couldn't imagine Nova would be great. A sad reality. "If you want to write her something I could give it to her," Ollie offered. He was quite for a while after that, trying to think of everything they should talk about but really just came up with knowing she would want him to describe the Barbie movie in excruciating detail. Maybe they'd talk about other things the next time but he imagined that would fill up most of the time this time around. "Do you think she's doing okay in there? I just… I don't know what I'm supposed to do to help, you know? I don't like not knowing what I'm supposed to be doing…"

[novadodson]

A stubbed toe? Was that truly what she considered worse than herself? Worse than the betrayal of trust he'd so stupidly granted her? There's a part of him that wants to ask if it's the worst that her brain can muster up, the height of physical pain that she'd endured, to assure her there was much, much worse and that there were many infliction's he'd take over exchanging pleasantries with her. Physical pain was nothing in light of the hurt she'd caused them, the walls she'd forced them to begin stacking back into place. It feels petty, childish, a waste of his energy to dispute — but the way she pouts like she has nothing to be sorry for makes him want to wipe the expression from her face.

"Oh, I don't know about that Rhia. I've handled much worse than a stubbed toe and I escaped a fire last year pretty easily so...might as well go big or go home for the next one right? And a pool full of piranhas? I mean sure...they might be scary but at least I'd know what I was getting myself into." His words had taken on an almost playful cadence, a smile gracing his features so that to onlookers, the pair might appear to actually be enjoying each others company — but even with the lightness of his tone, the venom of his next words is apparent. "At least they don't hide what they are; act like they're sweet little guppy's just to turn around and rip you to shreds the second you climb in the water." There's a pause, their dark orbs suddenly latching onto her own with considerably less amusement. "Or do you actually think you're the guppy? I mean...poor little, ol' Rhi, right? She didn't know what she was doing. She just wanted to make friends and be liked."

The assuredness - the swiftness - of his rejection stung, even if Rhia should have seen it from a mile away. Maybe she thought her absence would have healed whatever wounds Nova believed she’d inflicted. Perhaps time wasn’t a remedy at all, because the look on his face pulled Rhia back to the first time she received the same, callous reaction.

Were her actions really all that terrible? No, she decided. Nova was just never quick to forgive. For some people, anger and resentment came easier than the admission they missed someone. She missed Nova, maybe that’s what gave her the courage to approach him in the first place. “Think I could,” Rhia teased, dropping the hanging hand with a shrug. “Pool full of piranhas. Forest fire. Stubbing your pinky toe."

Her mother may have been onto something, calling her a glutton for punishment. She couldn't explain why she was compelled to egg Nova on, except maybe to prove she still mattered to him. "Life has far worse to offer than little, ol' me," she whined.

[novadodson]

"You're actually the biggest fucking softy I've ever met but, hey..." Hands rise in a display of defeat, the acceptance that he may be wrong, though they both know it's not the case. "Whatever helps you get your beauty sleep at night, baby."

Kinda reminds me of my gram — words that strike in a way they don't care for, a not so gentle reminder of how much of their mom Nova saw reflected in the woman. Wordlessly, they turn their back on Leaky, in order to stop the sudden crinkling of their features from revealing too much. "Ruth is a saint, but she was my saint first." A tone that holds much of the same lightheartedness he'd shared moments ago, that works to mask the ache in his chest better than his expression did. "So you'd better find your own." It was a declaration he would never actually stand by, even if he had that kind of control over the woman. Ruth had a light that deserved to shine as far as it could, and well; Nova wasn't sure he'd admit it aloud, but he certainly wasn't prepared to lose Leaky now either. "Trust that it's for the best, sweetheart." He muses, taking on a masculine inflection of condescension. "There are things in some of my bags that might traumatize your poor, virgin eyes for life."

"i'm not a softy." he tried to argue against the comment, but knows that he doesn't have a leg to stand on. call it repentance, call it southern manners, but leaky would give a stranger the shirt off his back if needed. that much was true. "oh, i ain't lying." he points, taking another bite of the apple. "besides, ruth is just so...welcoming. comforting. kinda reminds me of my gram." he adds with a reflective smile, reminiscing on his times in his grandmama's house, he should call her. "please, you only wish." he teases back, feeling more at ease with nova than he had with anyone in a while. besides, he had no romantic interest in him, that much was clear between the two. "i'm just sayin' i'm an expert unpacker, but hey, you do what you gotta do."

[novadodson]

For all the confidence Alethea seemed to have suddenly gained, it was apparent that most of it was a front. With a single compliment, that familiar blush was creeping back onto their skin just as easily as it always had — not that Nova was complaining, it was a sight that they relished in. "Indeed it does. I'm afraid I missed a very important part of the back-to-school e-mail. — In fact, I'm surprised they haven't kicked me out yet." It was fitting, he supposed; returning that year did feel a bit doom and gloom and the wardrobe choices that evening seemed to be a reflection of that. "Mm, considering me to be anything like most people would be your first mistake, baby." The last thing Nova cared about was arriving stag that evening, not concerned with what, who they had or hadn't showed up with, said about them in the eyes of others. "Did you come with a date seems a much more important question. Because if so, they're foolish for leaving you to your own devices." Foolish for leaving them unattended when it meant Nova could so easily take their hand and lead them away for the rest of the evening — an especially tempting thought given her next words, her understated discomfort. "Then why torment yourself with being here?"

her skin warms under nova's gaze, the blush easily creeping up their neck. another bold outfit choice, something that if their mother gets wind of alethea will certainly hear an earful about. but it's moments like this that they enjoy, thinking that it's worth it. "seems like black is the color of the moment." she comments, nodding to the crowd around them, many of the students dawning the color. "was just wondering." she shrugs, turning back to nova, though he's not wrong. "this is the sorta thing people don't like to do alone, or decide to debut their latest fling." she adds, with a small smile. "though, i've never really been a big fan of homecoming." this time the statement is softer, attention toward downward. each year it seems to get worse and now she's just waiting for the pen to drop.

[novadodson]

[novadodson]

MARGARET QUALLEY in Donnybrook 2018, dir. Tim Sutton

[novadodson]

It wasn't like he'd meant to interrupt. Sure, Nova enjoyed poking and prodding — but they also understood that there was a time and a place, and that the emotional sound that was pulled from Cara's lips in that moment was certainly no invitation for their usual games. He knew this was intended to be a private moment, that Cara had presumed herself to be alone and was better left that way. He also knew he felt guilty leaving her standing like that, looking fractured in a way he'd never witnessed, like it was somehow his job to remedy a situation that had nothing to do with him.

Silently, Nova presses off the wall they'd been resting against; concealed in the shadows in hopes of not being caught rather than investing in someone's personal affairs — but here they are nonetheless. They stroll to her side, dipping briefly towards the ground in order to collect the discarded sash along the way, slipping it into their pocket. Would she want it? He wasn't sure, but he wanted to give the option if she decided that she did. He doesn't offer it now though, instead extending the still burning blunt that was balanced between his fingers. "Wanna walk?" He doesn't face her, doesn't allow his gaze to lock onto her face. Nova knows moments of weakness and how desperately he tried to keep them private — Cara deserved the same if it was what she wanted, and if she chose to take the blunt and be on her way, or deny him entirely, he wouldn't press it. "I was warned Professor Thompson likes to do rounds and that weed is too good to get confiscated."

who: open starter when/where: homecoming gala, near the end of the night

Despite her somewhat maniacal need to be voted onto homecoming court that year, the actual victory was....resounding hollow. Had she only been voted in because Greer wasn't there? Because people felt bad for her? Because people were drunk and saw Morrison and assumed it was her sister? Cara was unsure of which the worst alternative was, but she was sure that her win, even this year, even with Greer not there, somehow could be given back to the eldest daughter. Cara found herself at the side of the ballroom, the stupid sash draped around her shoulder, watching the entire gala through narrow eyes. A surge of some emotion welled up in her, rising to the surface with such force that she turned on her heel and stormed out, sure if she stayed there, she'd be screaming before another minute passed.

As she got outside, Cara let out a strangled screech, the sound quiet enough that it wouldn't be overheard - at least outside her immediate area - yanking the sash off and throwing it to the ground before her hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms so forcefully they were bound to break the skin. Fuck. Fuck this, fuck the school, fuck Greer, fuck the whole night. Tears welled up in her eyes, emotions surfacing so quickly from every which way that Cara had little ability to process them, to react in any way but exploding, as she was so prone to doing. Grabbing her phone out of her bag, she let out another screech, whipping it towards the side of the building, the sound of the satisfying shatter at least some sort of release. "I hate her," Cara said, the words not much more than a whine - not intended for anyone else to hear but herself anyways, a lone tear streaking down her cheek as she stared at the wreckage of her phone.

[novadodson]

"Reina." He greets her with a dramatic twirl of his hand followed by a bow, smile on his lips when he straightens back out and displays the cigarette resting between two fingers. "Am I that predictable?" Though Nova knew they were — not that hard to imagine the person with the nicotine addition had slipped outside of yet another event to treat themselves. "I see you too missed the black tie 'and by black tie we mean black only' memo." He certainly had. "How have you been, baby?" A question that brings with it the softening of his tone and features, sincerity in the place of sarcasm, knowing Reina had ended the year in the same terrifying position as Link. "Have you healed alright?"

STATUS: Closed for @novadodson SETTING: Homecoming Gala 2023

Reina perhaps had one too many drinks and the whole gala was starting to feel a bit suffocating. It took longer for her to get the fresh air she was so desperately needing, having to stop and make small talk to those that acknowledged her as she tried to pass by unnoticed. The chill of the night hit her skin as she got free, "Oh my god," Reina mumbled with a heavy sigh of relief. Now that she was away from the crowd the thought of just leaving the whole event crept into her mind if only for a second. "Oh hey Nova," She said with a smile, noticing that she wasn't alone. "Smoke break?" She asked them with a raised brow.

[novadodson]

"Ever again?" A threat that makes their features crinkle. "That's a tad dramatic, don't we think?" If he's honest, he doesn't know whether or not Charlie would make good on the words. A part of him thought she wouldn't hesitate but the other chimed that if he continued to act nonchalant, it would make her crazy enough to do the very opposite. "You can't give a guy a ten minute deadline, you know? Some men would take all ten minutes just to read that, let alone figure out how to respond to a beautiful woman seeking their attention. We're very delicate creatures, you know?"

she fought the urge to scowl - it caused wrinkles, after all. so instead, she gave a tight smile. "oh, don't worry about it. actually, you won't have to worry about any texts from me for a long time. maybe ever again, as a matter of fact." the disrespect? the humiliation? that was charlie's to inflict, so how dare he. "since you're so busy and everything, i'll just leave you in peace. to rot." in hell.

[novadodson]

"A part of me wants to say yes because not all of us can afford the, uh...whole glitz and glam bullshit." Seriously, some of these looks had to have cost thousands, an amount that made Nova physically sick to consider spending on any outfit, let alone one that would be worn once before being tossed into the back of a closet. "But something else tells me that some of the people around here have outfit-rememberer vibes and no one wants to deal with that." Except for maybe him. — God, what he wouldn't give to have a conversation with someone who felt the need to point out he was wearing an item they'd seen before, perhaps a little altercation would distract him from current stresses. "Have you ever worn the same outfit twice to an event?" Tone and expression suggesting that such would be a scandal.

with: open ! when / where: homecoming, later in the evening.

It had been positively normal so far. Beyond the wide birth she'd given Link for most of the evening (in spite of the fact that she was half-convinced no-one had actually put two and two together just yet), it had almost been comfortable. The slight tension in her shoulders that was always there whenever they were all crammed into a space had ceased, and if she squinted, she could almost pretend like none of it had ever happened. Like this year would be the perfect year. So good, in fact, that it made up for everything that had happened so far.

"Do you think anyone here has ever worn the same outfit twice to an event?" She asks, voice blurred at the edges by champagne and the amazement at her surroundings. "It always feels like a fashion show at these things."

[novadodson]

"Fuck no." The words come out with an air of negativity that Nova hadn't necessarily meant to put out there, nothing wrong with question but perhaps the tradition as a whole — not that it'd stopped him from casting votes for those most important in his life, of course. "I really hate the whole...popularity contest bullshit. It gives real weird vibes." Just another thing society did to leave people questioning their self-worth.

"I think showing back up on campus at all is probably setting ourselves up for failure." That or absolute disaster. Why the hell were any of them here? A question that has flashed in their mind at least once a day since they'd waltzed back onto the familiar grounds, continued on like it was a sane decision. "But hey — we are here and we might as well make the most of it, no? Play while the ship sinks, slow dance in a burning room..." Maybe not the right metaphor given the circumstances but it made the point nonetheless. "So why do you look like you'd rather be in bed than here?"

who: open when: homecoming gala, earlier in the night.

It felt strange, to have come full circle like this. The memories of last years homecoming burnt fresh at the back of their retinas, flames licking at the edges of the memory. Was this what people meant when they talked about deja vu? She'd never understood it, not really. In principle, sure, but life was for the most part drab and monotone and as such, were you not destined to repeat things? Wasn't that why the Stoics had been so obsessed with eternal return?

But this, she thought to themselves, fingers tracing the edges of the window sill they're leant against, this felt different. As though there was malice aforethought in the repetition of things. An ominous little reminder that things were very much the same, in spite of the new semester on their new class schedules.

"Did you run for ... court, or whatever it is it's called?" They ask the person nearest them, making eye contact for the briefest of moments before gazing back out over the crowd. "I'm surprised that's still a thing, after last year, you know? Feels like we're setting ourselves up for failure."

[novadodson]

moodboard: gay e/em autigender transmasc bex mack