#AND NO NEED TO MATCH LENGTH

[devsmuses]

closed starter for @ghostsxagain

drag was never something he envisioned himself doing. he'd never had anything against the form of expression, but it just didn't seem like the kind of thing he'd be good at. all of that changed after attending his first drag show. the queen he'd seen had been at a local bar and he remembered being taken by her confidence alone. not many people were watching her as she lip-synced to some power ballad but she performed like everyone in the room was watching. that was talent, that was something not many people could do. that began his fascination and appreciation for the art of drag and now here he was, one of the newest cast members on rupaul's drag race, the biggest opportunity a drag performer can get. he swore he'd blacked out completely while making his entrance, not even remembering what he'd said but hoping it was memorable enough for the viewers back home. anxiety is all he felt as he walked over to the workroom table where a handle of other queen's awaited him. he recognized a few of them having seen them on social media and that only caused him more anxiety. he was doing his best to portray himself as confident, to act as if he knew he belonged here and would be the one walking away with the crown; not wanting the other queen's or viewers to view him as early out potential already. he noticed someone he recognized again except this time he recognized them from knowing them in real life, they weren't just a queen he followed on tiktok. "fancy seeing you here." his eyes were on rylan as he spoke. he'd know there was a chance there'd be queens from the same city on the same season but for some reason he didn't think he'd have to worry about him being one of those queens. he wasn't exactly sure how to feel in the moment. it was nice that he knew someone here and had some kind of connection with them, but it wasn't like rylan and him were close. they'd spoken a handful of times when they happened to be gigging at the same bar. he took his chances and sat alongside him, awaiting his reaction to him being here.

[gwyndolence]

Part of Krovs' particular charm was its provenance, especially to a young fae hybrid with a... muddled opinion of the second war. Gwyn was deeply curious to see exactly what the vampires had done with the place since, expecting more of the same fancy, old-fashioned European aesthetic the undead seemed to favor. He was delighted to discover that the vampires had installed a strip club, of all things, instead. Diabolus Luxuriam had a decent crowd going for the late hour: wealthier townies playing tourist, a semi-circle of masters more intent on their conversation than the dancers, a few slaves who hadn't been bidden to get on stage nervously idling, either there as pretty set dressing or pathetically forgotten in favor of other distractions.

Gwyn bypassed ogling the gyrating under the spotlights; he'd go into Krovstown and do some real dancing if mood struck for that. No, the people-watching was the purpose of this exercise and Gwyn put himself in the best possible place for it -- right behind the bar. He'd learned centuries ago there were few places you couldn't access if you walked in with enough confidence. If any patrons had noticed their server was collarless, none had mentioned it yet. For their part, the staff seemed unable to decide if the young master's status forbade Gwyn the spot or gave them perfect excuse not to confront him about it. Either way, he'd been enjoying himself immensely tugging stories out of the chattier workers and sneaking any tips into the poor, confused barkeep's shirt pocket.

Gwyn had keen sense for anyone leaving an opening exposed for approach and he narrowed in on just a one now, leaning bodily over the bar top towards his target, the jumbled collection of necklaces around his neck glittering in the red and blue club lights.

"Someone looks thirsty. Want me to fix that for you?"

@krovscastlestarters

[thearcherbrothersx]

Closed starter for @aftermiiidniiight / Muse: Declan Archer

He'd agreed to come by and pick her up this evening. He'd had a late meeting and she was out with friends not too far from his office, so naturally it made sense for his driver to swing by her venue on the way back to his place rather than have her make her way there later.

Declan left his driver with the car outside and made his way inside the club she'd told him she'd be at, his features maintaining the visual of ice; cool and calm. This despite the fact that his eyes visibly began searching the area for her as soon as he stepped inside. He looked entirely out of place, perfectly trimmed and kempt, dressed in a tailored Armani suit, a Rolex around his wrist. The sheer value of the man's attire probably surpassed the average occupant's yearly income. And yet he didn't seem bothered by the smell, the noise or fact that one person or other was intermittently bumping into him as he made his way through the crowds.

In fact, his expression didn't change until he finally spotted the gorgeous redhead on the dancefloor surrounded by several appropriately aged males, and at that point it was only for his lips to thin and brows to shift slightly higher on his forehead before his features settled back into that same indifferent mien. He watched her for a few seconds, considering the many different actions he could take, as well as the possible outcomes of those actions, before he turned around to leave.

[flamesque]

₊❏❜ ⋮ i'll chase you to the ends of the earth. ⚬𓂂

@dolasach

He is used to it; however, that didn't mean he accepted it.

Rafayel sighed as he let his head rest against his palm, the same thing being drilled into his mind by the endless sea of words spewing the history of Lemuria and the world on the surface repeated like a broken record from the elders. He seemed to be falling asleep and was immediately scolded for not paying attention.

Evidently, something came up that had the elders leave the vicinity for the time being and this served as an opportunity for Rafayel to escape. He had attempted in doing so a few times, but he was sure that this time he would be able to be successful. 

A blue fish swam around him and held his hand out, allowing the fish to swim over his palm. 

"Shall we head to the surface? It's a little boring right now and I'm tired of hearing the elders saying the same thing over and over again." 

The fish continued swimming over his palm before seemingly directing him toward an opening to which he was able to squeeze through. It was then he realized that he was out of the city walls of Whalefall City and was able to swim to the surface.

He thanked the fish before it disappeared back through the city walls and Rafayel didn't have to think twice as he turned away from Whalefall City to swim up to the surface; however, before he allowed himself to fully come out, he swam slowly as the damn words from the elders rang in his head. 

"The world on the surface is dangerous, even if those people worship our Sea God, there is a chance that someone will try to capture him."

"As the previous Lemurians have..." 

"Rafayel, you must never venture out to the surface world. Your people are here, that is all that should concern you." 

And the annoying part of all. "The Sea God will one day meet the Goddess of the Forest, and when that day comes, should he fall in love with her, it will be the beginning of the downfall of Lemuria."

Rafayel always thought it to be those stories to be something a parent would tell to their child to make them listen. And besides, Rafayel had always been, not only a rebellious soul, but one of sheer curiosity. 

Once he peeked out from the water, he spotted a woman by the shore. And he had seen a few other humans before, but something about her was different and he couldn't help but to swim towards the shore, closer to her. Who could she be? For some reason... he needed to know and while he doesn't know why he needs to, he simply just has to try; in a way, it felt as though there were residual feelings, feelings that weren't from him and that in itself baffled him.

So without thinking, his mouth opened to speak.

"Who might you be? You don't seem... human to me, although you do appear to be." He tilted his head briefly before letting out a laugh. "Ah, apologies. This is bold of me, I will admit."

[jake-fieldsrp]

Who: Open (7/7) capped When: Early Evening Where: Outside Cobblestone Cafe

It'd been a week (a week and a half now?) since being back in town —time showing its cruelty when a week back in his parent's house felt like only an hour and an eternity depending on the day. It'd been a while since he'd felt like this, a truly blank canvas. Supposed to be a recoup of sorts but where a week that would normally be a vacation was permanent. By day three when cracking open a comic was filled with a bizarre tightness in his chest, anxious an understatement. Today though, he left the perimeters of his parent's house in the burbs. An old crushed-up stack of flyers for music lessons with the ends frayed with his contact information he used to staple around Brooklyn in hand, Jake in the midst of stapling to a post for the hell of it, turning to the passerby, "Hey! Hey yeah, you dropped this..." Bending over to pluck the imaginary object to hand over one of his tabs, "You call within a week, first three sessions are free. And I'll tack on a holiday discount for the month of December."

[beckdean]

She should never have come here.

It had been curiosity that led her to the event - the pamphlet she had received at first quickly crumpled and thrown in a trash can. But, she'd recalled the words on the page 'supernatural or friends of the supernatural only' - and... despite her better judgement, she wanted to learn more. To truly understand this city, what lay within it. So, she'd allowed her hair to hang loose for once, even slipped on a dress from her pre-werewolf days - an attempt to blend in at the nightclub, as she entered through its doors.

Yet... there was something wrong here. She could feel it deep within her bones. Every part of her was on edge - what with the mixing of so many bodies, the loud pounding of the music, even the scents of so many species... every werewolf instinct was on high alert, her heart thundering and breathing heavy as she made her way through the crowd. Seeing the... situation on the main stage had been enough to almost send the young wolf into a full blown frenzy, that beast within stirring beneath her skin, threatening to appear - but what was worse was the lack of reaction from so many in the crowd, the way everyone continued dancing. Was this normal here? In a panic, she'd tried to thread her way in what she hoped was the direction of the exit - managing a few steps before she sees one of The Bunny workers right in front of her.

The worker was staring out at the crowd - eyes glassy and gaze numb, despite a drunken figure nearing them, leaning closer. One arm slung around the worker's waist, another hand running a line down their neck - no response from her, only unnerving apathy. Beck feels a flare of adrenaline as she storms over, grabbing hold of the guy's shoulder to try and pull him back. "Get your hands off her, before I remove them myself." She snarls with tense venom written all over her, trying to hold on to sanity as she feels her temper, and control, fleeting. But, the guy doesn't even respond - flashing only an intoxicated smile in Beck's direction, before he returns to his prey.

Which is enough to push Beck firmly over the edge. Not waiting another second, Beck grabs him with both arms and violently throws him in the opposite direction - accidentally tapping into her supernatural strength, as she sends him straight into the nearest fringe of the crowd. Beck stares down at her trembling hands with wide eyed horror, taking a shaking breath as she tries to find composure. Then, slowly, her gaze lifts upwards - recognising with dread the small area of carnage she has created, and the number of people now staring in her direction. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

[bordercollieholland]

Holland sat on the floor of the first common room, the heavy silence pressing in around him as he stared at the checkpoint. The voices of the other slaves chatting and playing games nearby served as a soft and steady background noise that did little to ease the turmoil in his mind. His thoughts drifted in and out of focus, a hazy collage of memories that tugged him between the past and the present.

He was back in the lab, the sterile smell of antiseptic sharp in his nostrils, the cold metal of the operating table biting into his skin. The pain from the surgeries, the long hours under harsh lights, the feeling of being reduced to nothing more than a test subject—all of it flooded his senses. But then, just as quickly, Holland’s thoughts drifted to the small, quaint apartment he had shared with Cécilia. It was a modest place, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, but it had been home. The tiny balcony was his favorite spot, just big enough for him to lounge and watch the world go by. He could almost feel the cool breeze on his face as he leaned over the railing, teasing the stray cats that wandered below. They’d hiss and arch their backs, and he’d bark back, amused by the simple, silly game.

That balcony had been his refuge, a place where he could relax and forget about the lab, the surgeries, and the pain. It was where he felt most at peace, with Cécilia nearby, her presence a constant comfort. Those moments felt so distant now, almost like they belonged to another life. She was gone now, and with her went any sense of safety he’d had.

The memory of the traders came next, the rough hands that had grabbed him, inspected him like he was no more than livestock. The humiliation burned in his chest as he recalled the way they’d forced him and the others into the truck. He could still hear the hushed conversation he had with the race horse shifter from Lyon, their shared fear masked by the familiarity of their native tongue. Where are they now? Did any of them end up here too? The question gnawed at him, but he shoved it aside, focusing instead on the discomfort in his hip. He shifted slightly, grimacing at the pain. The traders hadn’t been gentle, and his old injury flared up in protest.

Cécilia’s voice echoed in his mind, a reminder of the surgery she’d mentioned, something that might have helped if she’d had the time. But that was before… before everything had fallen apart and gone to merde. He gently touched his neck, instinctively feeling for his worn leather collar. Digits searching for the brass metal name plate and the worn vaccine tags. Instead, he found a different collar with no plate and no tags. He frowned, a pang of anxiety tightening in his gut.

A masculine voice cut through his thoughts, snapping him back to the present. Holland’s heart raced as he stiffened, his eyes darting up to meet those of the newcomer. For a moment, he was disoriented, the transition from memory to reality jarring. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog from his mind, then mumbled an apology in French, his voice thick with the remnants of his reverie.

“Pardon… eh... d- do you want me to move?” His accent was heavy, the words coming out clumsily as he nervously licked his lips. His hand moved to his hair, fingers brushing against the messy strands as he fought to regain his composure. His ears, once twitching beneath his hair, vanished entirely as he shifted slightly, hiding the remnants of his other form. The memory of Cécilia’s comforting touch, the way she used to rub his ears, flashed through his mind, and a deep sense of loss welled up in his chest. He frowned, the grief threatening to pull him under once more, but he forced himself to focus on the present, on the person standing before him. His fingers fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve. He avoided eye contact, his voice barely above a mumble as he spoke, the words tinged with uncertainty. "Je ne connais pas les règles de cet endroit… ni même où je suis," he admitted in French, his accent thick with the weight of his confusion and unease. "I don't know the rules of this place… or even where I am."

[lale-txt]

i knew Soft Launch reached the right audience when the comments about the wlw dating being deeply relatable piled up lmao

[fisheito]

this is what i was cookin up while on nu:vacation [avoiding event spoilers] my dream.....my hopes....... EVERYONE PUT ON THE PRINCESS GOWN🗡

[voraciouslyindulgent]

@viciousbite asked: -insert the meme icon to finding him next to a dead body here- //from Darkfang

Send ⚠ to find my muse next to a dead body

Beauty lived most vibrantly in the dying shrieks of a spark. The terror, the rage, the wordless pleas - none begged more desperately for life than on the precipice of oblivion. Tendrils of pure energy lashed and fought in whips of blinding light, screams unheard by all but the one plucking the strings. His own spark trembled with anticipation, pushing against the confines of its chamber. It felt too full, too hot, a smoldering burn nearly painful. Tarn wondered, a stray thought, if it would leap from his frame had he submitted to its desires and bared himself to its feast.

"Like the sun, how pristine it shines upon his light." He orated in a soft, gentle murmur, the libretto of a grand opera much adored. "Most sincere he was, yet betrayal he has committed to his most devout."

The mech below him, a dissenter who'd dared to threaten the peace of a triumphant Empire, let out an agonized cry, the jarring noise laced with static. Broken digits grasped for his mask, for his throat, but the grip was weak as energon bled a hefty pool across the ground. Upon the moon of a distant planet, hidden in the alleyway of a transport hub, Tarn sang the last notes of his hunt, and allowed his spark to gorge for the first time in years.

"Torn he was from his most beloved, from this world, by his own sword." The mech's life sputtered and flickered beneath him, stolen by force as his spark, its light barely visible through the seams of his armor, claimed consumption and ate its fill. "Truer oaths than his have never been sworn. None was purer." He sighed, shivering. "More loved...was no other."

The mech's hands fell limply, splattering in the puddle of energon faintly glowing. His plating dulled, mouth agape but lax, as Tarn completed his recitation. The last ribbon of energy seeped through his chassis, slipping between crevices to be taken by the insatiable hunger within him. With audible clicks, his armor closed snugly, and sealed his spark.

Overwhelmed still by the encounter, Tarn sat atop the corpse, kneeling on the wet, muddy ground. Intoxicated, his ventilation hummed a constant stream of heat, fuel pump a steady, thudding beat inside him. Stowed away in the dark, he didn't suspect anyone would discover him, or that an onlooker might be present. Oblivious, he waited for the rush to abate, optics dim and gaze unseeing.

[eclvpses]

for: anyone! @bluestarters location: aurora

For a Tuesday night, Aurora was jam packed - which was saying something. Leo was used to a crowd at the club, but he felt especially sardined as they made their way to the front of the line, as desperate for a drink as everyone surrounding them. A thin layer of sweat coated their forehead and smudged the coal that’d been smudged under his eyes by a girl in the washrooms an hour ago, the two of them bonding over a mutual hookup and a line of whatever she’d offered to him. Already impatient as they were, Leo just felt himself grow more annoyed - if anything, their next move was meant to be helpful. One less person for the bartenders to worry about as he helped himself, stretching forward and splaying himself across the bartop until he could clutch onto the first bottle in his range. “Oh, word.” Leo nodded appreciatively, Casamigos label flashing at him - bucket of ice water dumped over his head and ruining the moment when he heard one of the bartenders shout; Hey, what the fuck! A beat passed as Leo made eye contact with them before they were darting off, letting out an adrenaline-fueled shriek of delight as they pushed their way through the crowd, only skidding to a pause when they noticed someone they recognised. “Yo!” He hollered, grabbing his new-found companion and, to their detriment, accomplice, Leo huddling in close to them and concealing the tequila bottle between them just as a security guard huffed past. The man looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. “Ha! Asshole! Helen Keller can see better than you!” Pausing so that he could properly celebrate their victory, Leo uncorked the bottle with his teeth, spitting it onto the ground and holding the tequila towards the other, saccharine grin all but taking over his face, cheeks already aching. “You first. I’m feeling generous.”

[xremus-lupinx]

location: outside the forest. who: open.

It had been a full moon the night before. Remus woke up in the forest full of new scratches, aches and pain so debilitating that he had to rest on the soft ground. He went through this every month and had since he was five. He should have been used to it by now but it never came easily. Every month was different in its own way. He never knew what he did as a werewolf and maybe that was for the best. But he hated it. Remus hated this huge part of himself that he could never rid himself of.

As he slowly walked outside the forest — too beaten up to apparate — he sung in his mind about how worthless he was and how he would never have a normal life, that he was just this thing and this thing ruined him.

He toyed with the hem of his ripped shirt — another one bites the dust. He ran his hands through his hair, knotted and a mess — he would be using a whole bottle of conditioner to get the tangles out again. He ran his hands up his arms feeling fresh wounds — all the more reason to wear his favorite sweaters to cover his scars.

Remus was hardly paying attention to his surroundings. Normally it was so early in the morning that he didn’t have to worry about being seen. However, someone had seen him and shouted something at him. He lifted his head out of habit and immediately wished he’d left it down.

“Not now, not now. Let it be my imagination,” he whispered to himself without saying anything to the person approaching.

[faithhearted]

@honorhearted said: "Can we speak of this another time? I'm busy." (for Mary!)

This was not how Mary envisioned her life unfolding. Ever since she was a child, she had strived to be proper, to be viewed as a good and Godly young lady. ‘Be kind’, her mother had told her, ‘kind and fair and devout and true. These are the makings of a desirable woman.’ and so she’d obeyed. Even now, over and over again Mary told herself to be kind, fair, devout, and true, and your husband will love you.

But she had not married the man to whom she’d been promised. Instead, she’d wed his brother, who had taken her hand out of some sense of duty or responsibility though he never spoke about why.

No matter how kind, fair, devout, and true she endeavored to be, her husband did not love her. He’d done his husbandly obligation and together they’d conceived and raised a child, but still, he did not spare her an ounce of affection.

Instead, Abe’s eyes lingered upon Anna Str.ong, the woman he had always loved and loved still. It tore at Mary until her heart was in tattered shreds. Anna was everything Mary was not.

Anna was inconsiderate, tempestuous, fickle, and irresponsible. She too was a married woman and yet Abe wanted her. In truth, Mary once utterly despised Anna for this, and that hatred ate at her gut until she was tired of the way that hatred felt. Instead, all her energy was now spent on ensuring her family's survival.

A fortnight ago, Mary had been brought to the Contin.ental Army’s New Wind.sor camp for her protection, and for her son’s, and Abe was off once again, in another covert plan to enlist in Arnold’s unit. While Mary supported her husband’s revenge against Sim.coe, she was once again left alone to wait for a man who did not want her and who might very well never want her.

Despite all this, Mary worried for his safety. Early that morning, she’d set out to Major Tall.madge’s tent to inquire about Abe’s well-being only to be met with unattentive indifference to her presence. It was something she was used to but refused to tolerate further.

"Can we speak of this another time? I'm busy."

“We will speak of this now,” she firmly insisted, snatching the quill from his hand if only to force him to look into her pleading eyes, “Please, Major, you must know something about how he’s fairing. Will you not permit even five minutes to ease a wife's concern?”

[lovelylittlelottie]

It was a rare night that Mirror Mirror ever closed early, but with the owner of the shop being called upon for a wedding out of town, Lottie was stuck all by her lonesome and business had been nigh on nonexistent since she had come in. After several hours of no shows, she could only sweep the floor so many times before it was gonna drive her batty.

She decided to start closing up, humming to the music as she did so. Her peace was disrupted when the bell on the door failed to chime, leaving the only sound of a visitor to be the telltale creak on the hardwood. The blonde whipped around, snatching up the heaviest thing she could find (an extremely expensive curling iron) and brandished it with a "WHO GOES THE-oh! Goodness gracious, what're you thinkin', sneakin' up on a girl like that!? You coulda found yourself in a whole mess had you come any nearer!" she fussed, eyes narrowing.

[cxncordia]

@oceanicxeyes - When the Sun met the Sea

It started when they attacked that girl during the sports event.

Two weeks ago, Toño and his friends saw how one of the students from the Infinite Academy pretty much transformed into a scaly abomination in front of them and with great bravery and strength stopped her. In the nick of time, Toño was able to undo the spell that had been placed in the poor girl. It was a whole ordeal but it was doable, she got to be healed from the horrible experiment placed upon her.

This had made the Teporingos, a group of five mages and Toño, become alert about the situation. Regina had mentioned having had premonitory visions about the arrival of the new enemy and Moises had his sights set on the Infinite Academy, a school for the rich elites that was heavily secured and, behind closed doors, dedicated to the pursuit of dark magic.

The Teporingos were the protectors of this city, the Verbena mages who took care of the land and protected it from evil that sought to take it away. Moises had tracked one of the professors of said Academy and after having investigated her, it seemed that Professor Yuri Aparicio, in charge of Etiquette and Decorum of the Academy, was also one of the Cinco Brujas that belonged to the group of Nefandi that Toño and los Teporingos were trying to elminate.

Tracking her by the whole city, Toño finally stopped when he saw the red-haired woman enter the bar. He had to follow her, to pursue her and to gather all the information necessary to stop this new enemy.

However, when he stopped the motorbike only a block away from the bar Tacho realized of a particular situation that the young Mage had not come to consider.

"And how do you think you are going in?" The small talking chihuahua scolded Toño from his back pack. "Do you want a disaster for us? Don't be a fool!"

"Disaster? But what do you want, Tacho?" Toño asked, frustrated by the small dog's scolding. "I told you that we need to investigate!"

"Investigate from afar, Toñito." The chihuahua explained. "This is an adult establishment and they won't let you get through."

"Well, I could disguise myself as an adult, you know?" The boy explained to his companion. "We are supposed to hide our powers in public! An adult will have no trouble entering and seeing what is going on." Toño took the backpack and adjusted it over his shoulder, the leather jacket squeaking when the straps were pushed back. The young mage found a place to disguise himself, sliding in the back alleys where the stench of urine and trash was almost nauseating.

"Stop, stop, stop, stop...You can't make a spell like that!" The small chihuahua practically barked from within Toño's backpack.

"Why not!?" Toño huffed. "Just wait and see!" Toño focused his energies, trying to imagine how he would look when being an adult and words in Nahuatl flew from his mouth. "Huapahua," Toño pronounced in a whisper. He had learned these from his Mentor, Huey Tlanextli. Taking a deep breath and soon Toño could feel how his height and his hair was growing. How his muscles got firmer and his clothes were getting tight around him.

Being a mage really made all these experiences so interesting.

When looking himself at the reflection of the window, Toño couldn't believe it: that really wasn't him, those were now more the face of an adult. "Hehe, nice..." He cooed, touching his chin and starting to notice how different his skin felt.

"What are you doing!?" Tacho scoffed in surprise. "Magic should not be used for fun!"

"Relax, Tachito. I got it all under control." Toño responded with more confidence than he would have. He then moved away from the narrow space and back to his bike. He took the helmet and put it back on the motorcycle, starting to look back towards the location, and once again thinking of a plausible and reasonable line for this adventure. He took a pair of glasses that Moises had given him, so that the Teporingos could see what he was seeing, set them on his face and walked towards the establishment, this time, pretty sure that nobody would notice him. Or the dog in his back pack.

As he approached the door, a sound, beautiful and enigmatic was heard. The light tone of a humming echoed with delight. Toño could not help but to try to follow the origin of the song with his eyes, completely forgetting that he was supposed to approach the front door, right at the entrance. A beautiful blonde man, with flowy hair and blue eyes was singing in the establishment. The boy's eyes met him for an instant as Toño grew enraptured by the tune.

For a second he felt as if he was carried by the waters themselves, the feeling of the breeze enveloping him and the gentle embrace of the water surrounding him. He remembered those days, one summer break, when he and his Dad got to visit the beach back when he was only ten years old. What a beautiful and soulful tune this was!

[ironlvngs]

— open starter.

when: sometime in the afternoon where: the hamptons, entrance of the residence

this should be the right address. link starts observing the residence where the address had taken him, finishing off the last of his cigarette in the car he had been driving in all night — every night, for the last three weeks.

as he grabs his backpack from the passenger seat, his mind begins to drill him with the question again: was it really such a good idea to come back and face the consequences of his little disappearing act with the college? at least he had this little "winter break trip" before facing the music. before he could think about it any more, his train of thought was interrupted by a familiar face. "hey, you're here, so i guess i didn't fuck up with the navigation." he greets with a hint of a grin, walking up to them. "so where's the rest of the scooby doo gang?"