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gleekto · 5 years ago

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Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

Summary: College AU/Famous!Blaine and Fanboy!Kurt - Kurt POV

Kurt really doesn’t have time to figure out the dating world between being a freshman at prestigious theatre school, LAADA, and his active but secret blogging life in the Sing!Fandom. So what if Sing! ended last year? There are still fics to read and actors to follow. Especially the uber talented heartthrob lead, Blaine Anderson. He can act. He can sing. He can even dance. He’s gay. He’s out. And he’s only 24. Kurt is willing to twiddle his thumbs and click refresh until Blaine Anderson’s next project.

He just didn’t expect the next project to be on his roommate Rachel’s new TV show.

Part 1, Part 2

Even Better Than the Real Thing (3/15)

LimaBlaineFan: Spoiler alert - My source is back. He is going to be meeting Blaine tonight.

After Wednesday’s official announcement that Blaine Anderson had been cast as Rachel’s musically talented but romantically challenged love interest, Colin Red, on That’s So Rachel, Kurt’s followers jumped again. 331 more this time. It’s the credibility surge - not that he’d ever be a troll.

Kurt realizes he’s in a potentially problematic position, with one foot venturing into the real life filming world of Blaine Anderson, and his other foot firmly in the fantastical world of fandom. He realizes that he could end up in a conflict of interest, or with inside information that he clearly can’t share or worse, that he accidentally does. But who’s he kidding? He’s just been gifted a fan’s dream ticket of a non-fandom interaction with his celebrity crush. Yeah there might be consequences, but for now Kurt plans to enjoy having his cake and eating it too.

Kurt puts the finishing touches on his cocktail party outfit - layered blacks and greys for the cool fall day with a perfectly fitted long jacket. Sophisticated without looking like he’s trying too hard to impress very impressive company.

“Kurt, you ready?” Rachel is already halfway out the door as he grabs his phone and notices the red private message alert beside the growing notes on his “my source is going to meet Blaine” post.

MercedesSing!: It’s you, isn’t it? You remember that I know that Rachel Berry is your roommate, right?

Kurt types quickly as he exits the apartment. Can’t talk now with a winky emoji.

...

The cocktail party for the cast of That’s So Rachel isn’t exactly what Kurt was expecting. With Patti and Barbra, he expected glitz and glamour, unlimited martinis, caviar, and free air pods in an obnoxious swag bag. Instead, there is some nice red wine, hot dogs in a blanket, fried mushrooms on a stick, and a take home cookie with a cartoon face of a smiling Rachel Cherry. Low key and almost relaxed. And he will definitely enjoy biting off Rachel’s head.

Kurt relaxes at the less intense than expected atmosphere, and manages to be an excellent plus one for Rachel’s idols turned TV moms. He and Rachel are so engaged discussing the brilliance of a gender reversed ‘Company’ with Patti, and his own lauded rendition of Rose’s Turn from his high school Glee club, that he almost forgets that Blaine Anderson is coming. Almost.

When Patti is called over to meet one of the executives, and he and Rachel are left with a cone of appetizer fries in hand by the wine bar, he starts to get nervous. His eyes wander, trying not to search but definitely searching. There’s Jesse St. James who is playing Rachel’s music teacher talking to the showrunner. There are the friendly hair and makeup gang over by the couches. Rachel points out another couple of young women who will be playing Rachel’s friends. But no Blaine Anderson. Kurt tries not to look distracted.

“Rachel, hey!”

Just from the voice Kurt knows.

“Oh Blaine, hi,” Rachel turns around to a smiling and wow really quite perfectly dressed Blaine Anderson, approaching from the back door.

“Sorry I’m late. I just had to finish up filming before running home for a quick shower.”

“Great to see you. We were just-”

“That is a really great outfit. Especially the shoes.” The words just fall out of Kurt’s mouth as he swings on the balls of his feet. Could he make a more awkward first impression? He apparently can’t keep his mouth shut when it comes to red shiny shoes perfectly matched with a soft red cardigan, skinny tie and jeans that fit just so. Somehow Blaine is even more warm and gorgeous in-person and wow, does he have style. Which Kurt appreciates - unfortunately, out loud.

“Oh. Thank you.” Blaine looks slightly surprised but not put off by Kurt’s over enthusiasm. “I could say the same to you,” Blaine grins now, eyeing Kurt’s grey sweater-blazer, which does look great, Kurt admits. He feels like the fanboy at Comicon. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Blaine says. “I’m Blaine Anderson.” He extends his hand.

I know, Kurt thinks, smiling dumbly. I know. “I’m Rachel’s roommate.” Kurt shakes his hand - warm, soft, firm. Of course he would have a firm handshake. Kurt keeps smiling, hoping he’s being polite, but there’s an awkward silence.

“Kurt,” Rachel adds. “This is my roommate, Kurt Hummel.” Great. He forgot to say his name. Nothing like a first impression.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurt.” He knows that people in fandom who have had the luck to meet Blaine in person have said it, but he can now verify that Blaine really is good at that eye contact thing. His eyes are focused right on him and Kurt is sure he will drown. Kurt nods, trying not to seem like he’s staring. “How did you two meet?”

Rachel looks at Kurt, waiting for him to speak, probably because Blaine is looking at him, and not at Rachel. When he doesn’t say anything, Rachel eventually chimes in. “We went to high school together in Lima, Ohio-”

“The thriving metropolis,” Kurt manages to snap out of his stupor to give a shout out to his hick hometown. Blaine nods, laughing. He’s still looking at him.

“I know what you mean.”

“You do?”

“I’m from Ohio, too. Westerville.” Kurt knows that. “Not exactly the best place for a wannabe actor to grow up.” Blaine went to the prestigious Dalton Academy - also known as the gay Hogwarts of the Midwest. And he is absolutely not going to ask him about that.

“Fair,” Kurt replies, still smiling like a starstruck fanboy. He is a starstruck fanboy. And before Blaine notices, or worse, before he says something stupid, he figures he should exit while he’s ahead - leaving no damage in case they actually do meet again. “It was nice to meet you, Blaine and I’ll leave you two to talk shop. My glass is empty and I’m going to get another red while the line is short.”

Kurt takes a deep breath while he waits in line. Conversation completed and no harm done. Rachel and Blaine are talking animatedly about something or other and he has a moment to breathe as he makes his way to the bartender, “Merlot, s’il vous plait?”

“You speak French?” Kurt turns to see a once again grinning Blaine Anderson, who has somehow appeared behind him in line. What?

“Me?”

Blaine gives him a quizzical look. “You did just speak French to the bartender, right?”

“Oh! Oh yeah, of course. I don’t really speak. I just took French in high school.”

“A Corona please,” Blaine asks the same bartender as Kurt turns to walk away, red wine in hand, “Hey Kurt. Wait up.” Kurt freezes. Okay. “Cheers,” Blaine says as he chinks his beer bottle to Kurt’s wine glass. “Sometimes it’s nice to just have a drink and chill at these events, you know?” Blaine leans into him so he can hear what he’s saying in the noise of the crowd. “It’s a lot of industry people and a lot of being on. They’re great. Don’t get me wrong. But it takes a lot of focus to say all the right things to Patti Lupone.”

“Oh my god, I know. I just met her.” Kurt agrees. “I’m studying at LAADA so Rachel wanted to make sure I made the connection-”

“You’re at LAADA? That’s awesome. Such a great school,” Blaine knocks into his side. “You know if I hadn’t gotten my part on Sing!-” Kurt keeps his face neutral, “I would have gone into musical theatre. Did you do Glee Club with Rachel?”

“She’s already told you about Glee?” Kurt says. “Guilty. We weren’t exactly the top of the social pyramid at a football crazed school in Lima, Ohio.”

“I was in Glee club in Westerville, too, way back when. Dalton Academy?”

“Oh yeah,” Kurt nods nonchalantly. “The Warblers, right? I think we competed against them a couple of times two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Blaine nods fondly. “We were strangely revered by the boys at the school but Dalton was still very much an old boys’ club in the middle of Ohio. It’s not the progressive mecca some may think it is.”

“I may have heard a rumour-” Kurt pauses.

“Yeah, no. It’s not the gay Hogwarts,” Blaine makes quotation marks with his fingers. “Not when I was there at least. I was out but I never had a boyfriend until I moved to LA.” How can he be having this conversation? “But then I got Sing! and you know, dating wasn’t so easy.”

“It wasn’t?” Because Kurt is pretty sure that there would be boys literally lining up for a chance at a date with fandom’s most eligible sweetheart.

“No,” Blaine shrugs. “It’s really hard to meet people when you’re on a show like that, you know? Constantly in the spotlight, or in the selfie camera. It becomes hard to distinguish between fan and friend.” Kurt’s eyebrows rise. “And with that schedule on Sing! - I was too busy for anything serious, anyways.” Kurt nods keeping his face as flat as possible while his heart beats out of his chest, hoping Blaine can’t hear it over the background music. “I should apologize. I’m doing all the talking. What about you, Kurt? Do you have a boyfriend?”

What.

“Who me?” Kurt is taken aback. The combination of the very chill and bizarrely intimate conversation he’s having with Blaine Celebrity-of-My-Dreams Anderson, while being casually asked about his (non-existent) love life, the assumption that he’s gay and could be taken so obvious and ordinary, makes him feel like he’s in the Twilight Zone. He is in the Twilight Zone - he is talking about his love life with Blaine Anderson. He needs to compose himself. “Oh no. No no. Like you said, small town Ohio is not exactly a gay mecca. Just swinging and single,” Kurt says awkwardly. He knows he’s beet red but Blaine bites his lower lip and his smile gets wider.

“Blaine!” Jesse St. James from across the room, beckons him over. “Come here. Meet Joan Silver - she’s the executive producer.” Blaine looks up at the ceiling and sighs.

“I’m being summoned,” Blaine says and Kurt nods, still feeling surreal. Blaine reaches out and squeezes Kurt’s upper arm, “Really nice to meet you,” He winks, “Rachel’s roommate.”

#even better than the real thing #gleekto writes #ahhh the meet cute

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bberryrach · 4 years ago

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who: rachel berry, kurt hummel ( @krt-hmml), and hiram berry (played by special guest @jstj) what: the one and only hiram berry reunites hummelberry through a variety of acting exercises where: rachel’s apartment when: saturday, september 5 triggers?: the letter “e”

Hiram Berry Hiram Berry was unhappy. His only child, Rachel, his precious jewel, was fighting with her best friend, his (emotionally) adopted son, Kurt. The world was off-kilter, and it was up to Hiram to fix it. He'd always planned for the two of them to grow old together, retiring to an upstate mansion, Rachel in the 'Barbra' wing, and Kurt in the 'Patti' wing. In the entranceway to the house would be a tasteful collection of Broadway relics, and the Berry's own grand piano, to remember songs once sung, and to bring music to a new generation...

Rachel had been a little vague about the details, but Hiram had heard something about 'lying' and 'secret' and 'doesn't appreciate what a good friend I am'. Nothing, in his opinion, that would end a decades-long friendship. So he'd asked Kurt to come to Rachel's apartment, under the guise of needing fashion help. He knew Kurt would understand that that was code for reconciliation -- as if he, Hiram Berry, would need fashion help. Taking a cold bottle of water out of the fridge, Hiram smiled as he heard a knock on the door, straightening up and looking at his daughter. "A knock on the door? Why, I think that's a guest for you."

Kurt Hummel Kurt had been keeping himself busy the past few days, which was a great way to stay numb. Luckily the wedding was only a few days away so between that, preparing for his position at work to be handed off to someone else, and working on his fashion portfolio, Kurt had done a great job of preoccupying himself. After getting a text from Mr. Berry #2 asking for fashion advice, he had yet another thing to focus on. He arranged a time to come over and so here he was, knocking on his former best friend's apartment door. It felt weird, as he'd never needed to knock before, but he really liked Rachel's dads. They were like second fathers to him, and if Hiram needed some pressing fashion advice, Kurt would give it. "Hi," he greeted, stepping into the apartment. "So what's this mysterious fashion emer-" His eyes caught Rachel's and he frowned. "I'm not here to help with your wardrobe, am I?"

Rachel Berry It was always a good day when Rachel’s dads were in town. And how could it not be? Every day in the Berry household was full of song and dance and theatrics, which Rachel, admittedly, missed in New York. Now, even more so, since she was no longer speaking to Kurt. Or any of her friend group besides Jesse, for that matter. But leave it to her dads to cheer her up.

Rachel has just gotten home from jazz brunch, where she officially introduced Jesse as her boyfriend— news which her dads met with excitement and, surprisingly, expectation. Leroy had whisked Jesse away to go suit shopping, and Hiram and Rachel we’re resting before heading to the theater to see Phantom of the Opera, a tradition every time her dads came to town. So it was surprising when there was a knock on the door, and Kurt walked through it. “Excuse me,” she started, a confused look on her face, “what are you doing here?” She turned to her dad and paused, trying to make sense of it. “Did you invite him?”

Hiram Berry Ah, the sweet young children were reunited, and now Hiram could begin to enact his plan. He ushered Kurt inside, holding his hands up in admission as Kurt cracked his code. "You got me. My wardrobe remains impeccable," Hiram grinned, taking Rachel lightly by the shoulders and guiding her over to the couch. "I don't know what is going on between you two, but we're going to work it out. Friendship can't be thrown away over petty things like clashing personalities."

Hiram gestured for Kurt to join them on the couch, leaning forward to survey the two kids. "We're all thespians here, so I've devised a number of roleplay scenarios to enable the two of you to find a resolution. We're going to start with a warm up. You're going to tell me the reason you're arguing with each other, but -- you cannot use the letter E. Kurt, you can begin."

Kurt Hummel Kurt sighed as he realized what Hiram was up to. God, he should have expected this to be a trap. He sat down as he was instructed, leaving room on the couch between himself and Rachel. An eyebrow raised as Rachel's dad put his own twist on the situation. "Fine." He sighed. "But you do realize I can't refer to Rachel at all, right? Her name has an E, and so does 'friend', 'she' and 'her'....Anyways," Kurt pointed at his former friend. "told-" 'me' had an E in it, so he pointed to himself. He then realized both Jesse and Jeffrey had Es in them, and immediately gave up. "It's not an argument anymore....Rachel has made it clear that her idea of being a good friend involves doing things she specifically knows I feel strongly against, and I think she could say the same thing about me."

Rachel Berry Rachel let her dad lead her to the couch, eyebrows still furrowed as she tried to understand what was going on. And then her dad spoke and it started to make sense. Rachel would have been frustrated, but truthfully, she desperately wanted to make things right with Kurt. Not to mention, she loved a good roleplay. After all, it was her dads that gave her such a penchant for the dramatic.

“Kurt, you’ve completely made light of the exercise at hand,” Rachel said, rolling her eyes as Kurt gave up on the warm up. She also found it very telling— he gave up on their friendship too, didn’t he? “Anyways, I’ll go,” Rachel started, turning towards her dad. “Kurt can’t...” She paused for a moment, thinking of a word without an E, “fathom that I would withhold information about my... untold suitor from him. But I only did it to... guard him from hurt.” She back settled into her seat, pleased that she succeeded in the game.

Hiram Berry Hiram listened to Kurt's attempts, raising an eyebrow at his attitude. "Kurt. That was a lot of Es. No director is going to want to work with you with that kind of attitude," he warned him, shaking his head. Hiram had hoped that he'd taught Kurt better over the last twenty years -- clearly, he'd been wrong. Turning to listen to Rachel as she gave her side of the events, Hiram nodded encouragingly. Of course she nailed the exercise -- she was his super star for a reason.

"Very well done. So you didn't tell Kurt about your new suitor and he didn't like that you withheld information." Hiram slapped his hands on his knees -- well, that was an easy fix. "It sounds like you just need to say sorry, honey, and then everyone can make up and we can go out for milkshakes at the Spotlight Diner and judge all the pitchy wannabes."

Kurt Hummel Kurt rolled his eyes at the criticism of him not being easy to work with. It was a mask, though. He was incredibly uncomfortable with this situation and wanted it over with. "In the process of trying not to hurt...uh-" he motioned to himself, although he had accidentally let an E pass through when he said process. "you did...and that's not a good....justification for lying. You could have - sorry, there's an 'e' in 'have', my bad - told....you could have said 'I want to talk to you about the amazing thing in my life, but I can't at this...." time, moment, presently, all had Es "I can't right now. I'll fill you in soon, though.' And that would've...I'd say that was okay, and I wouldn't pry or think you didn't want to talk to-....Kurt." He anticlimactically finished by changing the tense he talked about himself in

Rachel Berry “I said I was sorry, Kurt,” Rachel snapped, pausing momentarily to reflect on how well she was following the rules to this game, without even trying. “Dad, I said I was sorry to him.” She looked at Hiram for reassurance, before continuing. “It’s as if you don’t want to...” she paused to think for a second, “it’s as if you don’t want to swallow this truth. You don’t want to, um.. you don’t want to pardon us— my suitor and I.”

Finishing lamely, Rachel crossed her arms across her chest. This seemed so pointless— Kurt could never forgive her. Especially if he wasn’t using the letter E. “Dad, I really appreciate you trying to help us work things out. But I don’t think this exercise is going to do anything.”

Hiram Berry Hiram nodded as both the kids started putting more of an effort into the exercise. It was good to have them talk, and to think hard about their words as they said them. But they hadn't cried and hugged yet, so maybe it was time to move on. "I think it's helped," he replied to Rachel. "But let's move onto the next. Rachel, lie on the floor. Kurt, please stand. We're going to consider an awful, terrible world, where something desperately tragic has happened to my baby girl -- don't worry about holding in your tears, Kurt, they'll add to the exercise." Hiram stood up, waiting for Rachel to follow his instruction and lay where he'd gestured.

"I would begin with a heart-wrenching eulogy and a video message from Barbra, but... this isn't about me. I have a handkerchief ready, so Kurt, don't hold back. The stage is yours."

Kurt Hummel Kurt opened his mouth to tell Rachel how inaccurate her belief was, but then Hiram was interrupting. His eyebrow raised as he told Rachel to lie on the floor. Oh god, a fake funeral? This exercise was even worse than the last. Funerals always reminded him of his mom's death. "I.....don't want to do this one." He admitted. It was going to look like he wasn't trying to work on their friendship, but he didn't want to drag anything down even more by mentioning what his mind had associated this exercise with. But he had a feeling he was going to end up having to do this dumb eulogy anyways.

Rachel Berry The idea of a fake funeral piqued Rachel’s interest. She had always fantasized about what everyone would say about her when she tragically departed, and while Rachel had hoped to die with a few more awards and theater credits to her name, the drama was still intriguing to her. Nodding sagely, Rachel followed her dad’s instructions, lying on the ground and doing her best to look dead.

Unsurprisingly, Rachel immediately approved of her father’s choice plans for her funeral. They’d, of course, discussed such arrangements before. But a frown formed on Rachel’s face when Kurt refused to participate. “Do you even want to work on our friendship, Kurt?” Rachel asked, sitting up. “Do you even care that I’ve died?”

Kurt Hummel Kurt stood up and walked to the kitchen, getting a bottle of water for himself before he came back to the living room area. "Of course I care that you're fake dead. And I know how much you've always wanted to attend your own funeral. But...." He sighed, staring at the bottle in his hands. "I'm just not big on funerals. Even fictional ones."

Rachel Berry Rachel crossed her arms, visibly disappointed that Kurt wouldn’t eulogize her. But she also knew that Kurt was sensitive about funerals, and she didn’t want to push him. “Is it because I was such a convincing corpse? Because I can try less.” She looked back at her dad before lying down again in the hopes they’d continue her fake funeral.

Hiram Berry Hiram sighed at Kurt's refusal, shaking his head a little. He was starting to wonder whether the Patti wing of the mansion would even need to be built. "You play an excellent cadaver, honey," Hiram complimented his daughter, reaching down to touch her shoulder to gesture for her to get up. "It's understandable that Kurt doesn't want to imagine your ultimately death. My own heart is pounding. We all know that life is fleeting and mortality is... daunting." He paused for a moment, letting the moment sink in -- and then clapped his hands.

"We'll try something else. I want you to think how the other thinks. I want you to become each other. So, Rachel, you're now Kurt, married to the adorably naive and endlessly loyal gold retriever of a human being, Sam Evans. And Kurt, you're now Rachel, new girlfriend of a hot young Broadway star who, unfortunately, does not have a taste for older, married men." Hiram looked over to Kurt. "Rachel", he emphasised. "Please tell me how you feel about this unfortunate argument with Kurt."

Kurt Hummel Kurt chuckled at Rachel asking if she should be a more convincing corpse. He frowned as Hiram continued on the dark route about death, staring at his water even harder. He was pulled out of his thoughts as the other man clapped, causing Kurt to jump slightly. As Hiram started to describe their next exercise, Kurt sat back down on the couch and folded one leg over the other. He couldn't help but smile a little bit at the description of Sam, though he made a face at the description of Jesse. As 'Rachel' was prompted to start things off, it took him a second to realize that actually meant him. "Oh. Uh....I'm hurt. Because I knew sneaking around with Jesse would cause drama for our friend group, especially with Finn - who is days away from officially being Kurt's stepbrother - and that telling him would put him in an uncomfortable position. And he doesn't seem to appreciate the favor I did him by lying and keeping him out of everything. But I'm also hurt, because I think he doesn't actually like my relationship with Jesse, even though he isn't fighting with Jesse at all...."

Rachel Berry Rachel nodded along to Kurt’s words, only slightly annoyed with what she sensed was sarcasm at the end. For all of their miscommunications recently, they still understood each other well.

“Well, Rachel,” Rachel began, assuming the seriousness of the exercise immediately, “I’m hurt that you lied to me multiple times, even though I know you thought it was in my best interest. Which it was, by the way.”

Hiram Berry Hiram nodded at Kurt's attempt at the exercise. "Very good, Kurt. I'm glad you're turning your attitude around. I'd consider you for a call back." He listened to Rachel's, tilting his head -- his daughter was normally much more verbose. "Don't break the fourth wall, sweetheart. We'd like to hear Kurt's full feelings on the issue. And I'd also like to know, Rachel," Hiram turned to Kurt, "and Kurt," -- he turned to Rachel -- "what you each think the other can do to resolve the situation. What do you think will bring the two of you back together, from your point of view, and ensure that you remember to shout each other out at award ceremonies and post chummy instagram stories at brunch together?"

Kurt Hummel Kurt raised his eyebrow at the mention of a callback. He didn't play into these things as much as Rachel did, but he was glad he was no longer being seen as difficult and stubborn at least. "I'm honestly getting confused here...am I telling you what I think Kurt or Rachel can do to resolve the situation? ....I'm saying what I want Kurt to do, as Rachel, yes?"

Rachel Berry “Yes Kurt, keep up,” Rachel said with a sigh. She took her dads words to heart— Rachel was always one for notes, regardless of the role or the project.

“Okay. I guess I am upset because you lied to me, even if you thought it was for my best interest. Because that means we must have very different ideas regarding what is best for each other, and I don’t know if they are compatible. Or if I could ever trust you to be my friend again.” Rachel paused and looked down, beginning to get emotional.

Kurt Hummel Kurt watched Rachel with a frown. He knew that was the situation, in his own head. But hearing the words out loud....as true as they were, they sounded harsh. "Right...So, I think what you, Kurt Hummel, can do is....try to forgive me, Broadway's own Rachel Barbra Berry, and what I could do - even though this was not the assigned prompt - is promise I won't lie like that again. And if I do need to keep something from you because that's my idea of looking out for you, I'll just tell you that I will catch you up to speed when it's appropriate to instead of making up a fake boyfriend." He smiled at the end, so she knew he wasn't giving her too much grief over Jeffrey.

Rachel Berry Rachel nodded, keeping her eyes down for a moment. “Yes, I think that if I, Kurt, could give you, Rachel, one more chance— a real chance, I’ll see that you’ll never lie to me like that again. Especially not about a fake boyfriend, even if he was very convincing. And you, Rachel, can work on better ways to protect the people you love.” Rachel looked up at Kurt, wiping her eyes, and then looked back at her dad. “Can I go back to being Rachel now?”

Hiram Berry Hiram watched the children, a sly smile on his face. Finally, something was working. "I think that my work here might be done," he informed them, reaching over to squeeze each of their knees. "I'm going to text Leroy and go and join him and Jesse. We'll see whether he's changed his stance on very handsome older men yet or not." HIram leant in to press a kiss to Rachel's head, hoping that this would be the end of her tears. "The three of us will be back in time for dinner. Maybe Kurt will be ready to join us by then." Hiram got up, grabbing his jacket and then heading out of the apartment.

Kurt Hummel "Yes, the Freaky Friday moment has run its intended course" Kurt agreed. He stood up and motioned for Rachel to join him so that he could give her a hug. He watched Hiram leave, but turned his attention back to Rachel. "I'm sorry I've been so distant the last couple weeks"

Rachel Berry Rachel said a quick thank you to her dad as he kissed her forehead and headed out the door. As he left, she looked up a Kurt, biting her lip for a moment in hesitation before standing up and meeting his hug. "I'm sorry I lied to you," she responded, "I really am."

Kurt Hummel Kurt tightly squeezed his best friend. "Good. You should be sorry. And I forgive you. He pulled away, taking her hand in his and sitting down. "So, I want all the gossip. Because you and Jesse seem like you're already a great couple."

Rachel Berry "You should be sorry, too," Rachel said, letting their hug linger. She followed Kurt to the couch, pulling her feet up and turning towards him. "Jesse's perfect. We're perfect. He took me on the most romantic date last week." She smiled, glad to have her best friend back. Things would be weird for a little while longer, she was sure, but at least they got beyond the communication block between them and were on the mend.

Kurt Hummel "I'm sorry I didn't have the best reaction to you and Jesse. But, to be clear, it wasn't about you and Jesse specifically. I think you two make a great couple and, in hindsight, it's absolutely not surprising that you two ended up together." He wasn't trying to make excuses, he just wanted to set the record straight that he was excited for them. His eyebrows raised as she mentioned 'the most romantic date'. "Oh? Do tell"

Rachel Berry “I know, I know,” Rachel nodded, utterly tired of this conversation. All she wanted was her best friend back. “I’m glad you think that. I do, too.” She smiled as she thought of the date. “Well, he took me out to dinner at the same restaurant we went to before opening night of our first show together. And then afterwards we went sailing down the Hudson to paint pictures of the Manhattan skyline. It was a total surprise.”

Kurt Hummel Kurt removed the cap from his water bottle and took a drink as he listened to Rachel. "Woah, that is romantic. I'm going to have to tell Sam to step up his game." Kurt joked....painting pictures while sailing down the Hudson was a great date night idea. "Or we'll just have to double date sometime."

Rachel Berry “I would like that,” Rachel said with a smile. This is exactly what she wanted— all of the people she loved most together. Smiling at the thought, Rachel leaned against the back of the sofa and hugged a pillow across her chest. “And I haven’t even told you the best part yet...” She touched Kurt’s arm, excited to tell him everything. But they had time, she reminded herself. They had all the time in the world.

#ftf:kurt #kurt

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archive-broadwayberrie · 5 years ago

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CHARACTER INTRODUCTION (task 001).

☆ did you hear the rumor? RACHEL BERRY has been spotted in the big apple! SHE is 25 y-o and works as a BROADWAY PERFORMER. some things never change, because SHE is still ambitious but also self-centered. psst! we did our research and found out that SHE is secretly dating rupert campion despite not being in love with him so she can get the main parts in his plays. i wonder how long RACH will play pretend! ☆ {lea michele, glee character}.

hiiiii! admin L here. i’m so excited to interact with all of you! IM me if you have questions, if you need more informations or if you want to plot!

BASIC INFORMATIONS.

NAME: Rachel Barbra Berry

AGE, BIRTHDAY: 25, December 18th

HOMETOWN: New York (Manhattan)

TIME IN NEW YORK: 25 years

OCCUPATION: Broadway performer

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bicurious (she has been attracted towards women, but never explored it or come out)

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Taken by Rupert Campion (secret relationship)

POSITIVE TRAITS: Ambitious, outspoken, supportive

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Self-centered, melodramatic, spoiled

SHIPS: St-Berry, Brochel, Faberry, Schueberry, Samchel, OC, chemistry

ANTI SHIPS: Forced, no chemistry

HEADCANONS

rachel was born in manhattan to two very loving fathers, leroy (a screenplay writer) and hiram (a costume designer). she bathed in the universe of film making, musicals and plays ever since she came to the world. she does not know about her mother and has no interest, as of now, to find out more about her.

she was homeschooled all her life, until college. she attended nyada after being rejected from julliard due to her throwing a fit during her admission audition because the pianist played the wrong note.

growing up, rachel was very outspoken and easygoing with her parents and family friends. she was supportive of her dads’ careers even if it meant she had to be left alone when they worked on broadway or attended award shows.

she had a hard time making friends, at nyada. she could come off as reserved and naive, but once she opened her mouth, rachel blew everyone away like a tornado. she was a little diva and pretty much everyone hated her for that although, they had to admit it, she earned the right to have such an attitude. rachel was among the best students the academy has ever known.

she did not search for jobs or struggled as a graduate student. her boyfriend insured she was living the dream life.

she played in funny girl and west side story as maria.

she started dating rupert campion, broadway performer and director, when she starred on broadway in the revival of funny girl. they did have instant chemistry when they met and during rehearsals, which lead to them dating. she has nothing to complain when it comes to rupert as a partner, he is a decent boyfriend and he is really good at putting the spotlight on her. he will bring her to every big award shows, premieres or events, he will brag about her talent and her impressive career and he sees her as his muse. the thing is, she fell out of love with him since the relationship felt very superficial. she has yet to told him, because he cast her as the lead of his new play and every critic and broadway enthusiast predict it will be a massive hit.

they have been dating for two or three years and still keep it “secret”. the medias know about them, they’re all smitten on red carpets, but they don’t post about it publicly or talk about it in interviews.

she has met barbra streisand, who called her “very sweet” and she’s still walking on air.

she has this strange feeling that broadway is not the only thing she was meant to do. she developped such a strong love for singing that she is looking for a record label.

she is pretty much like rachel from season four and five, a little adventurous, pushed to her limits by life and questioning her title as a broadway ingenue.

she has appeared on the tonight show with jimmy fallon and she has made a guest appearance on saturday night live for a broadway special edition, with lin-manuel miranda as the host.

she WILL win a tony award for the current play rupert is working on. but as of now, she has only received positive critics and flowers. we stan a very humble queen.

her 2020 projects are: jane austen sings and frozen in which she is cast as elsa.

CONNECTIONS

her wanted connection for a co-star! taken by frank leone!

childhood friends (so people who are native from new york)

a fling during her time at nyada

broadway friends

broadway costars

broadway rivals (someone who wanted the part she got simply by dating rupert)

someone who knows she’s cheating on him

anything else!!!! just im for plot and we’ll definitely figure something out! i can’t wait to interact with all of you!

#pretending.intros #pretending.ooc

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afabdisasterq · 6 years ago

Text

Awkward Reunions

Who: Quinn Fabray & Rachel Berry

When: 7/6 Night

Where: A Bar in Bushwhick ; Quinn & Duke’s Apartment

What: Quinn and Rachel meet in a bar and end up back at Quinn’s place trying to catch up

Warnings: Alcohol Abuse, Miscarriage/Child Loss, Implied Past Abuse and Sexual Assault, PTSD-esque flashbacks. Quinn is fucked up babes and it shows.

If Quinn Fabray was good at anything, she was good at ignoring her own problems and cutting everyone else out in the process. That's how she ended up drunk, in a bar, in New York City a year after her last contact with anyone she'd once considered her friends. Blonde hair was dyed pink, dresses were traded for leather, and a nose ring once again adorned her face. The miscarriage that occurred only a few short weeks after Puck had dumped her on her ass, had been the start. She'd just spiraled out, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to come to terms with the fact she'd lost yet another child. Sure, Beth was still living but she wasn't hers.

As she played a game of pool with some guy twice her size who was also buying her drinks, Quinn caught sight of a pair of legs she'd honestly know anywhere, even when drunk. "Rachel Berry?" She voiced as she took her shot, cursing silently as she missed the shot. The man snickered and Quinn flipped him off.

She had picked this bar in particular because it was out of the way enough that she wouldn’t be recognized but the reviews didn’t deem the place “creepy crawly infested.

Right now her life felt as if it had fallen apart. The diagnosis of nodules on her vocal chords had only been the start. The surgery leaving her unable to sing as well as she once had crushed her but she had always dreamed of a family. Jesse was unwilling to risk taking time away from his career and she too was unwilling to risk her career so it had never been much of an option for them- but there was no longer a career to risk since she no longer had one.

But it was the night she brought this new dream up to him he admitted that he was never meant to be a family man.

The announcement of their divorce coming shortly after.

And maybe it was for the better, if he couldn’t give her what she wanted, but she missed him and had just never been one good at being alone. She didn’t expect to be recognized but unable to turn away a fan, Rachel turns in the direction of the pool tables where her name had been called from.

“Quinn?” Her eyes widen at the sight of her. “What happened to you? I mean...where did you go?”

Quinn grabbed the cigarette resting on the nearby ashtray and took a drag of it, blowing it up at ceiling as Rachel turned to her. She chuckled, dark and fake. "Obviously I fucking ended up here. As for what happened, what does it matter?" The guy she'd been playing pool with motioned towards the near empty glass she had sitting next to the ashtray and she nodded, downing what was left and handing it over to him. He walked off, leaving Quinn leaning against the pool table, eyeing Rachel. "Better question, what are you, doing in a place like this?"

“Why are you playing nonchalant with me? Why are you smoking that?” Her hers click against the floor and she easily stands on her toes to swipe the thing out of her mouth. “Why is your hair pink again?”

Quinn rolled her eyes, glaring at her slightly as the cigarette is swiped out of her mouth. "Because I can? Because why the fuck not?" She pulls her pack of cigarettes and a zippo from her back pocket. "And if you touch this one I'll fucking knock you on your pretty little ass." She growls as she pulls another cigarette from the pack and lights it, daring Rachel to try her.

Rachel’s eyes narrow as she watches her light the cigarette up. The man she’d been playing pool comes back with her drink and with a smirk the brunette takes the cigarette right from her mouth and puts it inside the new drink. “I’m not going to watch you ruin your voice!”

Quinn growled, lunging at Rachel at the action the brunette took, only to find the man holding her by the collar, both of her leather jacket and her shirt. "Fuckin let me go, Duke!" Quinn struggled but he just pulled her back instead, putting his drink in her hand. "My fuckin, voice, Berry? I don't fucking sing anymore. Don't have a fucking reason to." As she deflates, Duke lets her go and walks back to the bar with the drink containing the doused cigarette. She takes a drink from the glass she'd been handed, frowning slightly, at the taste before drinking more. "Can I light another cigarette or are you going to keep being an ass? Because if you're going to keep being an ass, you need to buy me like five shots."

Rachel shakes her head. “What a waste of perfectly good talent.” Rachel huffs, this time just grabbing the whole pack from her jacket pocket and sticking them in her purse. “I was clearly meant to come here for a reason. This was it. Next time you decide going AWOL, remember who your friends are.” Rachel does go to the bar to get a drink like she’d originally intended but instead heads for the exit.

Quinn growls as Rachel takes the pack of cigarettes and if she hadn't felt Duke come up behind her again she might have lunged again. Instead she just swapped glasses with him, rolling her eyes as she watches Rachel go. It's interesting, the way Rachel then turns from the bar and towards the exit.

"Are you just going to let her go like that?" Duke asks, handing Quinn a cigarette.

"Why not?" Quinn asks, slipping the cigarette between her lips and lighting it.

"She gives a damn, Q. That's why not." He nudges her and she rolls her eyes. Snuffing out the cigarette and stuffing it in her pocket, she downs 90% of the drink and the rushed after Rachel.

"Rachel, wait!" She can't believe she's doing this. God, of course it had to be Rachel she'd come across

Rachel really didn’t think she’d follow. She wasn’t even rehearsing the scenarios that could occur if the pink haired woman did.

So she’s completely frozen when she hears her name called for the second time that night. “I’m not giving them back.” Rachel tosses the pack on the ground and grinds it down against the cement with her heel. The anger new for sure.

Quinn pinches the bridge of her nose as she watches Rachel crush the pack underfoot. "Wasn't going to ask. But if you're going to be a bitch, maybe I was wrong." Sure, she had no room to talk, but she was angry drunk and these days she was almost always drunk. Which meant she was almost always angry.

“Are you going to tell me what happened Quinn is are you going to try and pretend like this isn’t insane and so very expected of you?”

"I got fucked over. That's all you need to know." Quinn huffs, stuffing her hands into the pocket of her leather jacket. "You know what it's like to get kicked while you're down, repeatedly? What it feels like to realize everything you thought you knew is a lie and when you think you can't lose more, you do? Cos that's what happened. Ask Fuckerman, if you want to know what happened." Her words are bitter and pained, having to close her eyes against memories she didn't want to remember.

“I don’t want to hear it from Noah!” Rachel doesn’t comment on the rest, feeling it hitting too close to home. “I’ve been worried sick about you. I called and called and eventually someone answered and it wasn’t you!”

Quinn scoffed. "Well you're not fucking hearing it from me." She sighs, running a hand through her hair, tugging at the ends. "What do you want? An apology? I did what I had to, what I needed to, or something." Quinn knew she'd just done what was easiest. Cut everyone out and ran. It meant she didn't have to explain it. Didn't have to admit to what had been done to her.

“I just want to. I need to hear you’re okay but it doesn’t matter. I know you’re not and you’re not going to let me in. This is what happens every single time. For Barbra’s sake!” She stomps her foot. “I’m happy to know you’re alive but I’m not going to watch you do this. I can’t. What is so good about numbing the pain? It doesn’t change the reality!”

Quinn scoffs, shaking her head. "What's so great about it? You get numb enough and you forget. You can sleep and not wake up to the sound of your own screaming. Sure, you wake up with a killer fucking hangover, but if that's the price I'm paying for peace? I'll pay it." Sure, she knows it's temporary, knows she's just delaying the worst of it, but she doesn't know any other way and isn't sure she wants to.

“That’s how problems start.” She whispers, despite the nagging feeling telling her Quinn may be onto something. No amount of yoga or retreats had helped her feel any better about her reality and she had been going to the bar with intentions to do just as Quinn was doing. Drowning it all out.

"Who cares? What's one more problem on top of the rest?" Quinn had been self medicating because it was the only thing that made the hollow feeling in her chest go away. That stopped her from remembering all the times Puck had forced himself on her, coerced her, got her drunk enough that she couldn't say no, got her drunker when she said no anyway. That reminded her of everything she'd lost because of him.

“I care.” Rachel shakes her head, unable to understand how that wasn’t apparent. Had yet to click in the woman’s brain. Even in high school despite their different she’d always tried hard to show the girl support.

"I'd say you're the only one, but then Duke cares and that'd be unfair to him. But honestly, fuck one more problem. It's certainly not the worst of them." Quinn sighs. "You wanna get outta here? Duke and I just refilled out liquor cabinet the other day and we don't live far." She didn't want to be having this conversation but she sure as fuck didn't want to be having it in the middle of a bar.

Rachel feels stuck. She shouldn’t go. It sounds like a bad idea, especially with all the feelings even water couldn’t drown out. But didn’t that prove she didn’t care. “Sure. Okay. Do you have tequila?”

"We do, and it's good tequila, not that fuck you to hell and back with a chainsaw shit." Quinn led the way out of the bar, wishing she could light the cigarette in her pocket, but knowing where it would end up if she even tried. Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she smiles gently at it, but does not respond. "I feel like I'm lucky sometimes, that Duke puts up with my shit. He doesn't have to, no one does. I don't want anyone to, but he does anyway." Quinn looks up as she walks, head angled in just the right way she can watch the skyline change overhead while also mostly watching where she's going.

“Isn’t all tequila just that when you drink enough of it?” Rachel just follows her, unsure how she’d ended up here. When it’s the last thing she expected of her evening. “I’m sure you put up with plenty of his.” Rachel says softly, happy the girl had someone taking care of her, even if it isn’t her. “How far do you live, exactly?”

"Yeah, but the good shit let's you drink far more before you hit that point." Quinn points out with the knowledge and confidence of the alcoholic she basically was. She can't help but chuckle. "Sure, if by his shit you mean his thing for cuddling and having a different boy toy every week. He has to deal with me when I actually sober up. That is a mess no one deserves to see." She sighs, far too aware that Duke put up with far more than he needed to, than he should. "Not far. We walk to and from the bar." As they came up to a crosswalk, Quinn hit the button to cross, pointing to an apartment building about halfway down the street. "There, to be exact."

Rachel’s mouth opens to speak but she stops herself. “Cuddling shouldn’t be taken for granted. You should be thankful. Everyone needs innocent and comforting affection from time to time.” Rachel looks at the building being pointed at and when the cross walk blinks for them to walk Rachel leads the way.

Quinn rolls her eyes. "From time to time, yes. Anytime we're home together with nothing to do, however, is a little much." Not that Quinn actually minded it. Duke was good to her, knew when and where he could hold her. He was one of the only people she trusted anymore and certainly the only man. Quinn follows Rachel, pulling her keys off her belt loop.

Once they reached the building, Quinn unlocked the lobby door and held it open for Rachel before slipping in herself and heading over to the elevator. "We're a ways up and thankfully we live in a building with a functional elevator." She said as the elevator doors slid open and she entered, hitting the button for the twelfth floor, quickly settling into the back corner of the elevator."

“A functional elevated is certainly a perk.” Rachel steps on and just looks around absent minded. She had so many questions, but she manages to only ask one. “You’ve lived here since you left?”

Quinn rests her head back into the corner of the elevator, eyes closed. At the question, she shrugs. "Not quite, no." The first month and a half of her disappearance had been before the miscarriage and she'd stayed where she had been. It had been the miscarriage that had sent her off the rails and right into Duke's arms. Her arms wrapped protectively around her middle at the thoughts that started to seep through the booze induced fog she lived in.

When the elevator came to a stop on the twelfth floor, Quinn pushed off the wall and quickly headed down the hallway to her apartment door. She needs a shot of something before the memories return to the forefront of her mind. Her fingers have minor difficulty unlocking the door but as soon as the door is open she's flipping on the lights and rushing over to the liquor cabinet. Which was more like a bar than anything. Grabbing the bottle of Jack, she takes a couple swigs, straight from the bottle.

“Oh, okay.” Rachel closes her own eyes, her thumbs going up to rub at her temples. “I’ll stop asking questions.” She promises, thankful when the elevator door opens.

She tries to quiet her heels as they make their way to Quinn’s apartment. It smells like booze and her nose scrunches slightly as she watches Quinn just take a drink from a bottle, like it’s water.

“Are you okay? Where are your glasses?”

Quinn spins the cap back onto the bottle, setting it down as she takes a few deep breathes. "I'm drunk, so I'm better than I could be." There's a sincerity in her voice as she moves around the apartment, hanging her leather jacket up in the closet, tossing her wallet and keys into the small table by the door, and then pulling off her combat boots. "Glasses are in the kitchen, where they belong. Though we usually drink our booze out of mugs, mostly because a have a collection and a half of the damn things. Shot glasses are on the wall in the kitchen as we also have a collection of those. Help yourself to whatever you want, but avoid any bottle with a ribbon around the neck, it means I drink straight from it." Quinn needed into something more comfortable, something baggy that she could disappear into. So, she left Rachel to, presumably help herself, and headed into her bedroom to get changed.

Rachel takes in all the information and is a bit shocked that she's left to do her own searching. She spots the bottles with ribbon and isn't sure how to take it. But she grabs a basic black mug from the cupboard and finds the bottle of tequila that doesn't have a ribbon on it. She pours some into the mug and takes a long sip, before filling it back up. She finds her way back into the living room and she takes a seat on the couch waiting for Quinn and taking in her surroundings.

Quinn eventually returns from her bedroom, wearing an over-sized Yale sweatshirt, a pair of glasses perched on her nose. It's older and stretched out enough that the sleeves cover her hands completely and it comes down almost to her knees. She heads into the kitchen, grabbing her old Yale mug and fixing herself a screwdriver with significantly more vodka than orange juice before joining Rachel on the couch. "Sorry, needed a change of clothes."

“Oh. It’s okay. This is your home, you do what you need to. If I’m intruding or anything I can leave after my drink.” Part of her feels nervous this Duke character would be joining them. She doesn’t know him and who knows if he’s going to like her.

"You're fine, Rachel. I wouldn't have invited you if you were." She pulls her knees up onto the couch and tucks them into her sweatshirt. "So, how has life been since we spoke last?" Quinn had no idea what any of her old friends had been up to in the year since she'd disappeared. Tended to avoid news and gossip magazines, staying her in booze fueled fog as best as possible.

“Oh.” She knows she shouldn’t be surprised by the question, but she is anyways. Instead of answering she brings the mug to her lips so that she can take a long drink. “Jesse and I are divorced and I’m not currently in any productions.” Rachel doesn’t explain that there would be no more in her future.

Quinn just nods as Rachel talks, sipping on her drink. "Never liked him." She mutters as Rachel mentions she's gotten divorced. "Sorry to hear that, but... yeah, never liked him." Shrugging she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say or do next. The fact Rachel wasn't in anything right now, in a way, made sense. Divorce was a messy process, she could remember her parents going through it, she couldn't imagine balancing being on stage multiple times a day, six days a week, with one would be easy to do.

“I still love him. He just can’t give me what I want anymore.” Rachel shrugs. She didn’t think she could watch him continue to be successful while she’s forced to stop. “So is this what you do? Make small talk and drink?”

"Fair enough. I guess." Quinn drinks from her mug, watching Rachel quietly. "What else does a bartender do? I mean, I don't have people really, outside of Duke and some of the people from his work. Just about everyone I'm 'friends' with are closer to Duke, so..." She uses air quotes around the word friends with a shrug. In a lot of ways she lived a quiet life.

“I’m your friend.” Rachel reminds her. “A friend with a lot of time on her hands.” She adds. “At least I’ve still considered us that.”

Quinn looks down into her mug for a while. "I mean, I"m sure Duke would appreciate me getting out more. And yeah, we're kind of friends, huh?" Quinn doesn't know why she felt the need to say it the way she did, other than it was something Rachel had once said to her, back before she'd gotten stupid. Back before she let herself get re-involved with Noah Puckerman.

“We are.” Rachel nods, following the woman’s lead and looking down into her drink. “So Duke is a good guy then? I mean, he takes care of you, and he stopped you from fighting me.”

"He does that a lot. Keeps me from fighting people... " Quinn grimaced a bit, taking a long drink from her mug. "But, yeah, he's the only man I trust. And probably the only person, at current, I trust with my life."

Is there hope Quinn can trust her at some point? She smiles a little at the thought. “I’m glad you have him Quinn. Really.”

"I'm lucky I have him, honestly." Quinn sighed. "I spiraled right into his arms, oddly enough. Well, more accurately, I spiraled directly into his salon chair and somewhere between blonde and pink, he offered me the second bedroom." Quinn still wasn't sure how it'd happened. She had been so drunk and disastrous at the time that a lot of her early months in New York were a blur.

“Fate happens in mysterious ways. He does good work. The pink isn’t terrible.” Rachel isn’t sure it is Quinn, but who is Quinn really? “Can I tell Kurt and Blaine you’re alive? I haven’t shut up about you.”

"I suppose it does. He's brilliant. I was tired of the blonde and wasn't aiming to go back to brunette, cos that's really not me and I knew I could rock pink and it's just kind of stuck." She looks up at Rachel's question. "I- I don't know... Also, you haven't shut up about me? Should I be worried or flattered?"

“I understand.” Rachel promises. “I just missed you and wanted to know you were okay. I called you frequently hoping you would pick up. I’m just relieved to see you’re alive.”

Quinn eyes Rachel, surprised by that. Sure, they'd been close, sometimes texting more often than even Quinn and Santana did, but she didn't think she would warrant such a response. "I don't always feel it," she admits quietly, downing the rest of her mug. "Alive, that is."

“Maybe you haven’t found what makes you feel alive. What sets you on fire.” Rachel suggests with a sad smile. “Do you think you really would have fought me earlier? If you hadn’t been stopped?”

"I went to Yale for acting but... I don't have it in me. I have spent so long just... acting in my day-to-day life, I can't imagine doing it for real. But, I don't really have other talents or passions. Most days I'm not even really here." She sighs, disappointed in the empty mug in her hands but not feeling the urge to get up and refill it. "Unfortunately, yes."

"Maybe you not being here is preventing you from feeling that passion. Because anything you're feeling while under the influence isn't genuine." Rachel shrugs, unsure if her words were going to be taken well by the other woman. "Okay. That's good to know. I've still only ever been slapped by you."

Quinn rolls her eyes as Rachel speaks. "I stay like this because being numb is better than how I am when I'm sober. I'd rather be in a booze induced fog and be able to function. I fall apart when I'm sober and I stop functioning." She sighs. "In a restroom, of all places. But yeah, I'm a kinda violent person when I'm drunk, get that from Russell, I'm sure."

“You keep breaking down because you continue to force it back, Quinn.” Rachel doesn’t understand violence, doesn’t understand how drinking could be worth heightening that feeling of anger. “Did he ever hit you?”

"Yeah, well I don't like remembering what I'm forcing back, it fucking sucks. And there's a fuck ton of it. I spent three days crying before I got blackout drunk and have been drunk just about every moment since." She hadn't expected to admit and soon found herself getting up and going over to the liquor cabinet, pouring herself a mix of vodka and Chambord. And when she hears Rachel's question, she's thankful for it. "Not often. I knew how to avoid him. And I was his little girl, it was rare I was who he got angry with." She took a seat back on the couch, refusing to look at Rachel.

“I get it. I mean, not entirely. But this doesn’t feel like the Quinn I know.” She waves her arms between them. “You’re stronger than letting yourself drown and if you need help. I want to help you.” Rachel isn’t sure how relieved she should feel with the answer given.

Quinn scoffs, rolling her eyes. "A lot of shit happened to me, so yeah, I'm not the Quinn you knew. And no, I'm not. I can't fucking handle it, I can't. It'll just feel like losing all over again and I can't do that." Her arm wraps around her middle as she takes a long drink from her mug, once again pulling her legs up to her chest. The alcohol wasn't keeping the memories at bay, something about the way Rachel spoke, the way it made her respond. It was like the memories were using it to break free. Using her vaguely mentioning it to come forward. She didn't want this.

“I’m not trying to minimize your experiences Quinn. I don’t know all that’s happened to you. I just believe in you and I want you to be happy. This may be better than living reality but this isn’t your best life. We all have to start over sometimes. You. Even me.” Rachel can’t help but move closer to her. “I can leave if I’m crossing a line. I just, have been so worried, and sure you’re alive but you’re not okay.”

Quinn listens to Rachel talk, just drinking, trying to drown out the memories. "I don't know how. I don't know how I'm supposed to move past what happened. I don't even like remembering it happened. That any of it happened. You can't start over if you don't let go and I don't know how to let go." She doesn't know why she's saying it, but part of her feels like she should. That was always a thing with Rachel, she always got Quinn to talk about things she maybe didn't want to. Sometimes without even really prompting it.

“Healing takes time and you need to.” She pauses for a moment. “You have to acknowledge what it is you need. I think you just did that. And I think that you need to warm up to the idea of opening up in someway. That doesn’t mean to entertain the idea and jump right in. But you’ll feel better. Something that little will help.”

Quinn sighs, listening to Rachel talk. While she's entirely aware that Rachel has a point, she isn't sure it's something she can do. Even the idea of opening up about what happened made her feel gross and weak. Reminding her of all the ways she couldn't get away. All the times she'd said no and was convinced otherwise. Of when she'd said no and was forced when she refused to be convinced. And like that she was lost to her own thoughts, breathing getting faster as she closed her eyes against the string of tears. "No, no, no. for fuck's sake I said no. Stop it. Stop it. No." She's muttered to herself, frantic, scared.

Rachel is quick to stand up and leave Quinn’s side on the couch. But she doesn’t leave, she kneels in front of her instead. “I’m stopping. Now isn’t the time for this. Let’s play a game.” Rachel smiles hoping she can lighten the mood. “Wanna take a body shot off me?”

Quinn doesn't register what Rachel's saying. She hears her, but she doesn't. The fingers around the handle of her mug have gone white from clutching it so tightly. She's lost in a memory, trapped somewhere in the confines of her own mind. "No. God, Noah, stop. Please." She's crying and shaking, rocking slightly.

Rachel doesn’t question anything instead she sits closer, but not too close. “Can I hold you, Quinn? How can I get you off this?”

The sound of her name registers with Quinn and she blinks a few times. "What?" Then she feels the ache in her hand and sets the mug down, flexing her fingers, trying to ease the pain in her hand. "Sorry. That's not... I usually have to be sober."

“Okay.” Rachel nods her head. “I’m really glad to have run into you. You feel like a breath of fresh air.”

"I don't feel like that." She sighs. "I mean, I don't feel like I could be that." She picks up her mug again, taking a long drink from it before setting it back down. "I mean, how could I? I'm a fucking mess."

“But I’ve missed you.”

"I've missed you too, I just don't know how my chaos can possibly be considered refreshing. "

“You we a human being back in my life is refreshing.”

"Okay..." she sighs, head resting on her knees. "I'm sorry about what happened, what you might have heard. It's rare when I'm drunk. It's part of why I drink."

“Don’t apologize to me. I’m safe, okay?”

Quinn sighs. "I just hate it. The minute I let my guard down, the minute the fog lifts even just a little I'm fucked."

“I’ve been talking in circles, but you need to let it out. Have you tried yoga healing retreats?”

Quinn scoffs. "Do I look like someone who would go on one? Much less who can afford one?" She sighs. "Pretty sure they'd recommend fucking therapy before such a thing, but can't afford that either."

“Have you tried?”

"Therapy takes money. Money I don't have. And yeah, I've looked."

“But insurance. Surely you have that?”

"Even with insurance, which is also fucking expensive, I can't afford it." She sighs. "Drinking is cheaper and not just because Duke buys my drinks when we're out."

“But it’s not working.” Rachel sighs. She didn’t know how to help her and it felt frustrating

"It works better than anything else. It works better than not."

“Fine.” She nods

"Look, I know I'm fucked up and I'm sure that's the last thing you wanted to find out about me, but it's how it is and I'm not sure what to tell you. Other than, it could be worse."

“I just think you don’t want to help yourself in a way that will be constant.”

"And maybe that's true, but it's also a fact of life that most of the ways one could do that are fucking expensive."

“I don’t want to upset you, okay? It isn’t fun for me. I just don’t know what to do

"There's nothing you can do, Rachel. There's nothing anyone can do."

“I’ll keep quiet about it”

"Okay."

#i: rachel berry #p: rachel berry #p: 001 #p: all

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thistleandthorn-rpg · 6 years ago

Photo

Congrats bbyT on your audition for Rachel Berry! Please check out this page here for what to do next and send us her blog within 48 hours. Welcome to the group!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: t Preferred pronoun: they/them Age: 25+ Timezone/Country: GMT -3 Brazil RP Experience: 9ish years on tumblr~ Activity Level: Fairly high. Up to 9/10 when the dash is active

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Rachel Barbra Berry Designation: Switch Age: 22 Faceclaim: Lea Michele Birthday: March 2nd Orientation: Pansexual Kinks: Up to anything! Rough sex, humiliation, bondage, anal play, exhibitionism, watersports, among others Anti-Kinks: Extreme violence

BIO:

Rachel Berry was a lot of things - a diva, a star, a performer. To some, she was a great friend with a big heart. To others, she was an egotistical pain in that ass. One thing was for certain, she had big dreams that she wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of. Her main focus was to get out of Brooklyn and over to the bright lights of the city that never sleeps - New York City. She loved the city and everything about it - except she had to get through this institute stuff first. She wasn’t sure exactly how that would go, but either way, if there was one thing Rachel Barbara Berry always got, it was her way.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What is your biggest fear and why?

My biggest fear is to not have anyone to share my talent with — not necessarily in a romantic sense, mind you. I’m special, I’ve known that since I was 3 months old, but that hardly does anything for me without the acknowledgement of other people, without the applause, the teary eyes from the audience as I accept my record-shattering fifth consecutive Tony Award for Leading Actress. Of course, getting to share that with a special someone would be just as satisfying and as a result, not having anyone by my side, just as heartbreaking. To sum up, I supposed nothing scares me more than being alone or feeling unseen, which some my argue is my current condition, but I’ll have you known my following has been growing consistently since I’ve moved my videos from myspace to a more current platform and nothing’s gonna stop me from achieving the popularity I deserve.

What 3 objects/places mean the most to you and why?

My dads’ bed would be the first. I realize it might be weird to list that as a special place, but my memories of cuddling with them on Saturday mornings to rewatch and sing along with our favorite musicals are some of the best of my life and nothing ever feels quite as comfortable as that bed to me.

The stage we used for our performances in our High School glee club is also very important to me. That was the first place I felt heard, and appreciated and that my talents were more than just my own, but something I could share with other people.

I’ve won my awards in my life so far, as one should when they’ve been performing since before they learned to walk, but none is more special to me than the first one I won as a part of a group. Unfortunately we didn’t win as many as we hoped to, but I suppose that helps elevate the ones we did win.

Who is the one person you’d most like to meet (dead or alive)?

My mom. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dads more than everything and I wouldn’t trade them for anyone else, but I’ve always dreamed of meeting her someday. It’s silly, I know, and I’ve tried to let it go in the past, but I just hope to know who she was someday and maybe just… sit down to talk for a minute or two.

What is the one moment you would describe as your happiest/most excited?

I must’ve been seven or eight years old. My dads were having one of their big parties, with many of their important friends, and out of nowhere I can hear dad asking me to perform a song in front of everyone. Now, I didn’t have anything prepared for that moment specifically, but I was already a veteran by then improvised at the best of my abilities. People cheered, of course, but that wasn’t what made that moment so special to me. It was my dad’s trust. I knew he and daddy loved me, but that moment more than any else proved to me how lucky I was to have them in my life.

#accepted

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archivedrc · 6 years ago

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“Mary Fiore is San Francisco’s most successful supplier of romance and glamor. She knows all the tricks. She knows all the rules. But then she breaks the most important rule of all: she falls in love with the groom. After spending the most enchanting evening of their lives together, Mary thinks she’s finally found a reason to believe in love. What she doesn’t know is that cupid and her career are about to collide head-on.”

RACHEL BARBRA BERRY is THIRTY years old and A BROADWAY ACTRESS (current understudy). She is currently ENGAGED TO JESSE ST. JAMES (NPC), and her endgame is FABERRY.

"What if what I think is great really is great, but not as great as something greater?”

Being a star has always been Rachel’s Number One Goal. From the moment she could grasp what that concept meant, it was what she spent her afternoons after school working towards and suffered through the bullying of a theater nerd for. In the end, when she took the stage like the many icons she looked up to, it was all going to be worth it. The road to stardom, however, was much rockier than even Rachel accounted for. However, despite the hiccups along the way and the many times she’s fallen or soared a little too high for her own good, she’s proud of the journey she’s taken and the point she’s reached in her life.

Love, on the other hand, was something Rachel didn’t think she needed. Or rather, liked to pretend she didn’t need. High School was riddled with on-again off-again relationships that left her more confused than before and more shaken in her self-worth than she would like to admit. While music never disappointed or left her hanging, significant others certainly didn’t come with the same reassurances. At least teenage boys didn’t. It wasn’t until well into her twenties that dating became more of a serious and meaningful thing that didn’t just inspire more anxiety to feed emotional depth into this week’s favorite song to perform in her school choir.

Jesse was the first person she felt a lasting connection to in that regard. They met five years ago at an audition for an off-Broadway version of The Last Five Years and the moment Jesse opened his mouth to sing with her, Rachel was a goner. None of the boys she’d dated up to this point had been able to keep up with her – with her dreams, with her aspirations, with the admittedly high maintenance person that she was. Jesse, though, not only managed to keep up but outdo her sometimes and Rachel had to admit – she liked the challenge. While their relationship certainly had its hardships and their equally large personalities did clash sometimes, they still shared their passions where it mattered and built a stronger and more meaningful bond over the years.

Stardom hasn’t quite arrived yet for Rachel despite her best attempts. She’s close enough – an understudy role is nothing to scoff at, she’s aware of that. Especially the understudy to the titular role. But, it’s also not the shiny, showstopping position she’s always envisioned herself in. Most nights she spends sitting backstage, trying not to hope that the actress on stage may come down with a sudden case of food-poisoning and let her take over for the second act. It’s not exactly making her a nicer person and Rachel’s been through enough dive-phases to know they never end pretty. With Anastasia closing in a month, she’s not sure whether to be terrified of what happens if she doesn’t find work soon or excited for the possibility that maybe, just maybe, her final big break may lay just around the corner.

The upcoming wedding doesn’t exactly do much to ease her nerves. Planning it has been both her biggest dream and worst nightmare. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t have scrapbooks ready for this very moment since she was a little girl, but with the uncertainty of work and her need for everything to be absolutely perfect and exactly like she imagined it, she’s been constantly living on the edge. Because somehow, if the centerpieces aren’t perfect, she may just have a complete melt-down. And it doesn’t help much that the one thing that makes her momentarily forget all her nerves is the smile of her own wedding planner.

CONNECTIONS.

QUINN FABRAY → Quinn is Rachel’s wedding planner. She hired her because she’s the best, and Rachel accepts nothing but the best (especially on the day where she can’t let anything go wrong). There’s a problem, though, and the problem is... well, Quinn. She’s amazing in more ways than just her work and Rachel can’t do anything about it, even if she wants to. She really wants to. But she’s engaged, happily so, and that’s that.

KURT HUMMEL → Kurt is Rachel’s person. They have been friends since the beginning of ever. Rachel would do anything for him and vice versa. They’ve been there for every phase of each other’s lives, which is why Kurt was the very first person to know about Rachel’s engagement, and her immediate choice for her man of honor.

SEBASTIAN SMYTHE → Rachel met Sebastian through an acting gig recently. They haven’t known each other for long, but in that time, Sebastian has done quite a bit for Rachel in the way of her wedding. He clearly has a lot to spare and for some reason has taken a liking to her. And money can’t buy friendship --- it’s not anything like that. Sebastian seems to genuinely care to make her happy, and Rachel is no match for his charm.

✗ Rachel is currently TAKEN and played by SARA (GMT+1).

#rc!rachel #t #tf #f

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basicallybree · 6 years ago

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WHO: Bree Brown (with mentions of Rachel Berry, Brody Weston, blink and you miss it Ryder Lynn)

WHAT: social media stalking, mainly

WHEN: Wednesday night, February 6

WHERE: the couch in her living room

Rachel Barbra Berry ☆

The click of her nails on the phone screen were accompanied by a sigh as the Facebook page loaded, taking a moment to sip from the glass of wine in her other hand. Bree was wrapped in a blanket on her couch in the living room, a place she was finding herself more often than not recently. At the moment she was trying to distract herself from the problems in her own life by focusing on someone else’s -- not that she would ever admit it out loud.

Lips pressing together tightly as she scrolled down the page there were countless of posts either calling out for help in finding Rachel or wishing her well ‘wherever she was.’ They had died down in the past few months, the initial shock and scandal of it all unable to capture people’s attention for more than a short period of time. But Bree wasn’t interested in any of that. She wanted to go back to when things were normal, when every now and then she would post a snarky comment on one of the other girl’s selfies and doubtlessly end up tagged in a long paragraph posting about how girls should be building each other up these days, not tearing each other down. Typical Berry bullshit.

But it wasn’t one of Rachel’s posts that caught her eye initially, it was one with a name that was all too familiar. Brody Weston. Just a song he had shared on her page, with some comment about how he thought she would appreciate this. Seemingly innocent, but at the same time sending shivers down the back of her spine. Especially considering the recent developments ever since the night at the Clarington cabin. Tapping on his name Bree perused his page slowly, although there wasn’t much to go on from just that. Sporadic pictures of him here and there, never seeming to be in the same place for more than a moment. By all means a stereotypical profile, not sure if that’s what she had been looking for initially or not.

Clicking out of the app she pulled up her text messages, even if she knew that she wasn’t going to find what she was looking for there. The texts were gone, messages traded between her and Brody starting a few weeks ago that started superficially, but then got deep into the matter of one missing Castleport resident. To be completely honest, Bree was just starting to think that maybe everyone did have it wrong, that Brody just happened to be in the wrong place at the right time and the police department was searching for someone to pin it on. The problem, however, was that there was no way for her to go back and dissect the messages since they were gone. Missing, as if they had never existed in the first place. When she had finally gotten her phone back at the cabin it was the first thing she had checked, especially considering the weird messages he had sent her earlier that day. Delete these texts. Almost as if he knew that something was going to happen, someone was going to see.

With an overly dramatic sigh she locked the screen of her phone, tossing it to the other end of the couch as she sunk down a little in the blanket. If anything, the recent developments just served to make everything more confusing, the bits and pieces from the night at the cabin that people were willing to share not starting to make sense in the slightest. Tensions were high (not even taking into consideration the sexual tensions that Bree spent an equal amount of her time thinking about), people were looking for someone to blame. And it seemed that somehow, her name was quickly making its way to the top of that list.

Pulling the blanket over her head she let out a long breath, closing her eyes as she tugged the neck of the sweatshirt she was wearing up to her nose again. She should probably change out of it sooner rather than later, the LA Rams logo emblazoned on the front the last thing that Bree needed her husband to see when he walked in the door. It was enough for her to attempt to focus on one issue at a time, even if it felt like they were all threatening to swallow her whole now more than ever.

#cporttask #cporttask07 #( 009. )#guys look #i actually did a task for once?#all this shit in bree's life though damn girl

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trickstersantana · 7 years ago

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Para: The possibility that only appears when you try

Who: Santana and Sam @aquaevans Location: Undique Stadium Time: 11th June 2018 Summary: Sam and Santana, with their personalities changed, have a battle training while talking about the risks of taking action, of not taking action, and solving problems. Triggers/Notes: Violence, murder mention, death mention

Sam wasn't even sure what compelled him to want to train lately. It wasn't something he actively had done before but right now, he was just itching to do something, anything, to get rid of the feelings bursting inside him. There was so much he wanted to say and he was ready to let it all out. Maybe training with Santana today would help. Somehow her words had been making sense to him lately even if he was still in the midst of working to understand what it was that he should be focusing on. His head was filled with thoughts but no outlet to let them go. And somehow even though they weren't friends, she seemed to be the one person who got through to him. Bouncing on the heels of his feet, he waited for her to arrive at Undique.

Santana didn't like Sam company, but following the teachings of her family, sometimes you have to team up with people you don't like to get things done. She had worked with way worse people, Aad she was willing to do whatever she has to do to get things done. Sam has the resources and seemingly the will to help, and she wasn't going to let that go to waste. She swallowed her own feelings and cordially greeted Sam. "Hello, Sam, are you ready to train? I was thinking about practicing a non-aggressive, non-hurtful way of fighting style, if you are up for it" She explained, while leading the way to the private room she booked for today. Talking alone would be best.

Sam nodded when he saw Santana, "Hello." He greeted as they began to walk towards the room. "I'm more than ready, although I should let you know my magic has been shaky at best since what happened. So your idea may be just the ticket." He wasn't about to admit how much he did not want to fight anyone, to hurt anyone, but the fact was they had to be ready for anything. And if he could do that without causing harm to anyone else, then he would do whatever he could. "What are some of your ideas?"

"Shaky?" Santana asked "How so? Shaky in what sense?" She didn't know much about witch magic, or know of any way that they could become 'shaky', but she wanted to. "Since Brownstone or since New Year?" She said, unsure what he really meant. If the doors did something to Sam's magic too it would be important to know. She faced him on the battle ground. "My idea is simple" She illusioned a heavy armoured warrior with a spear, face hiden, in front of Sam and with his same height. "Try to fight without getting hurt and without hurting the warrior. It would be all illusions, so it will be a safe practice"

Santana: 1d4 +2 = (4)+2 = 6 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (5) = 5

Santana tried to make her illusion less realistic and strong, so it was really a practice and not a competitive fight. Considering Sam magic was shaky and hers stronger, she tried to not use all her capabilities, but still it seemed way too good of an illusion. Maybe she had to practice to control her powers too. The warrior put his sword up and waved it at Sam chest.

Sam tried to think of the best way to explain it. He had been having difficulties getting anything to work correctly and how he wanted to. "Since Brownstone." He said, his voice cracking slightly when he said the word but he quickly pulled himself together. "I haven't been able to create strong results with the spells I use. For example, if I try to use water jet, imagine a stream of water from a nerf gun. It should come out fast and quick. But it's like a trickle when I do it. And I haven't been able to heal properly either. I've had scrapes and things I tried to fix but for whatever reason, the healing doesn't come." He looked at the warrior and decided to give her a glimpse of what he meant with the water jet. It would only hit the sword and not the warrior, even if it was just an illusion. He activated his magic circle, which sputtered slightly before activating. <<Water jet, hit this sword out of the warrior's hands.>> Instead of a stream of water coming through quick, the water took time to get the sword and even then it wasn't powerful enough to stop the sword from hitting his chest. He winced slightly but tried to shake it off.

Santana was a firm supporter of chatting while training. She was on the side, observing Sam’s fight agaisnt her illusion. She listened to his explanation. Bold of him to assume she knew what a nerf gun was. “Did something like this ever happened to you? It’s your magic connected somehow to your feelings? Or it’s something else?” The only time her magic was erratic was this New Year and that one time Rachel Barbra Berry sabotaged her audition, but witches magic migth work different. “Have you talked to your parents about it? They might know more, since you share the same magic” Santana nodded to Sam trying to disarm the warrior, but it would had to be stronger than that. “Not bad, but he is still armed” She said, stricking another attack.

Santana: 1d4+2 = (1)+2 = 3 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (2) = 2

Sam shook his head, concentrating on the warrior but also trying to focus on her questions. "No, never before that night. I never had a problem with it." He knew how his magic worked but with all of the feelings he had been going through, he couldn't concentrate on one enough to focus on how to really control his magic. "Yes, it's connected to my emotions. When I really want to fix someone, I'm supposed to be able to heal them. When I want to defend myself, I should be able to create strong bodies of water. When I want to defend other people, it's the same case. But lately I've felt stuck in that I don't know if I can do any of that. Like I betrayed it." He finished just as the new attack came. <<Water rope, wrap around the sword and remove it from the warrior.>> He tried to pull the sword out with the water rope but it ended up snapping and just getting him wet. He groaned in frustration. "No, I haven't told them about it. I...I already let them down the second I became a murderer."

Santana never liked how it sounds the concept of ‘fixing’ someone, but let it slide. “You think that if you try, you will make things worse” she said, knowing way too well that feeling. “So you rather not try again, or play it the safer way possible” She had try again and again really risky strategies that never worked, and on occassions, she concluyed that doing nothing would be better. “That no trying would be better. But that means to think that the problem will take care of itself, that other person would take care of it.” She keep trying to weaken her illusion warrior, but it was still too realistic, the image, the sound, it was like it really was here. She always tried to do her illusions to the maximun of her power, so she never noticed she couldn’t do a bad illusion. “Why telling them this will be letting them down?” She asked while her illusion attacked Sam again with the sword still in its hands.

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (2)+2 = 4 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (4) = 4

Sam had no idea how she managed to get it so well and he sighed, "How is it the most frustrating person in my life is also the one who seems to get it the most?" He said, not caring at all what he said. Somewhere deep down he probably should but at the moment the sentiment was true. "Play the safest way possible, without hurting anyone. Without causing them harm and if harm comes to be, then so be it. I deserve it." He got ready for her next attack. "So in essence, it would be like I would be waiting for someone else to handle the problem when I should do it myself." He tried to understand what she was saying. "Because we're supposed to be healers. Supposed to defend people. To help people. And that night, I went against every single part of who I was. Who I'm supposed to be. I should have seen they needed my help and instead, I let fear take over." He was so angry, so upset, that when he activated his magic circle, he cried out <<Tidal wave>> and even though it didn't come out as strong as intended, it was still strong enough to push the sword out of the warrior's hand.

Santana felt something off, like noticing a crack in a perfect illusion ”Frustrating?” but quickly she went back to the issue at hand. “Playing it safe is just an illusion. A cushion. There is not a single way to solve problems that always works.” If there was, she would love to know. “Tell me, Sam, I know you regret doing things wrong, but haven’t you ever regretted not doing something? To not try to solve a problem?” She walked a little bit around the battle scene. “In essence, yes. And if harm cames to be, it rarely comes to just one person” She said, already feeling like she might do the situation worse. “I don’t want to burn out the kind of people who get things done. At the very least, I want to support them with all my might. Don’t you think so?” She illusioned the sword getting away from the warrior’s hand, seeing Sam’s spell would had worked. She didn’t understand what is wanting to be what you are supposed to be, or be angry at failing to follow the path. “It’s not that night anymore. Don’t forget the past, but don’t let yourself be stuck in it either” her unarmed warrior went to punch Sam’s face. Just getting rid of the sword wouldn’t be enough.

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (5)+2 = 7 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (4) = 4

Sam nodded his head and sighed, "Yeah, the whole Field Studies debacle when we all voted you out. I regretted not doing something differently then. And another Field Studies, we left someone behind even though someone else was with that person, we still left them behind." He admitted. They were regrets he had and he knew Santana was not one to believe it but she seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say. He understood what she was saying. Not just one person ended up hurt in an attack and it was better to fight for everyone than just sit around. "Yeah, I do. Supporting others is the way to work together and get things done. Like New Year's. Japan, even though we didn't get to fight back, you still were working to try and do something and we were all going to fight together." He was just rambling now, letting the words roll off his tongue. "How can I not be when everyone reminds me of it every chance they get?" He was distracted by the question and didn't see the punch in his face. He winced at the pain in his nose, shaking his head. He had to remind himself it was an illusion but wow that warrior packed a punch. He called out, <<Whirlpool, swirl around this warrior.>> He created a whirlpool in the hopes that the spinning would leave the warrior feeling confused.

Sam Evans: 1d6 = (4) = 4 Santana: 1d6 +2 = (1)+2 = 3

Santana keep walking around in circles. She listened, not exactly knowing what to say. That she was voted out shouldn’t matter now. It was just a little grain of sand. Why getting all worked out for a grain of the desert of not being welcome. She just listened until the part about supporting others is the way to do it. “Sometimes you have to carry others, too” she just said. She bited her lip at her second ‘you tried even when it wasn’t enough’ of the Japan trip. Everyone though that, right? But she coudln’t not try. Not doing something was the hardest thing to do for her. Not noticing where she was walking, she unceremoniously fall to the floor slinding with the water. She step up again, not answering Sam last question. “When you don’t try solving a problem, only two things can occur. One, It doesn’t get solved and people might get hurt. Two, someone else has to solve it, having to let the burden to another. But...” She said, while the warrior strike another punch to Sam’s face. “If you try, a new possibility opens up to those two: You help solving it. This can only happend if you try”

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (2)+2 = 4 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (3) = 3

Sam listened intently to what she had to say. It was true that carrying others was important. How do you carry others who don't want your support? "And if they don't want it, I just try anyway?" He asked, since he was getting somewhere he thought. It was still easier said than done but she had a point, he couldn't just give up and fall away. He noticed her sliding on the water but didn't find any satisfaction in it. Instead, he felt...bad. Annoyed. She wasn't the one he was targeting, why did that happen? He shook it off and focused on the warrior. "Trying is hard but that's life, right?" The warrior hit him again and he was getting frustrated. He briefly thought of a water net but then mentally shook his head. No, he wasn't doing that. Instead, he put his hand out, <<Bubbles, splash upon this warrior's face.>>

Sam Evans: 1d6 = (1) = 1 Santana: 1d6 +2 = (4)+2 = 6

Santana shrug “I have to admit it’s most complex than a simple yes or no question. You will have to decide depending on the situation... but I can propose a situation for you, a situation were you have to lead, if you are up to take it the risk” She said, hoping it won’t ruin things. “That’s life, indeed” The warrior wasn’t affected at all by simple bubbles, of course. The illusion went to punch Sam in the stomach this time.

Sam knew that life was about risks. And he had been wanting to do something to make things right every since this all started. He looked over at her suggestion and in the time he did, the warrior got to him. He left out a loud, "Oof" knowing there would be a bruise later. Maybe if he concentrated enough he could heal it. "What do you suggest?" He asked her as he decided to go all out and try to trap the warrior. He might as well do it even if he was seriously getting tired now. The urge to protect himself was growing and he did his best, <<Water whip, knock this warrior down.>> He watched, hoping the whip would work for him.

Sam Evans: 1d6 = (2) = 2 Santana: 1d6 +2 = (1)+2 = 3

Santana had a big breathe before saying it. “Uncovering the truth about the doors. What I asked you long ago” she admited, waiting for his reaction before explaining her idea. She wasn’t even focusing in her illusion right now, and having it practically in automatic. The illusion ignored Sam’s water whip and keep punching him. “Be careful” she said, noticing it a little late.

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (4)+2 = 6 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (2) = 2

Sam found himself startled at the mention of the doors and it allowed him to be distracted enough that the warrior got a few more punches in. "Ouch, ugh, wow you're strong warrior. Hold that thought, Santana." He said and as tired as he was, he focused on the warrior and replied, <<Water splash and knock the warrior back into a puddle.>>

Sam Evans: 1d6 = (6) = 6 Santana: 1d6 +2 = (2)+2 = 4

Santana tried to controle her own illusion close up, recieving a slight damage from the water splash. The illusion was knocked up, but standed up again. “You caused harm, wrong move, Sam. You just have to defend yourself” But it was not so much, the illusion went to attack Sam again. “You can use a bad outcome to do something good. Now your name is relevant, even when it’s for an awful thing. But people talk about you, Sam. You have a plataform now. You might not be listen to, but you would be heard. You can start the spark that might bringth the light of the truth to the darkness of ignorance. If you want to. Do you?”

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (3)+2 = 5 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (4) = 4

Sam winced and found himself so frustrated, he groaned out, "How can I possibly win in a fight if I try not to cause harm? That's my goal but how do you..." He paused, knowing that's what she was talking about. He had to find a solution, something that would give him an advantage while maintaining ground against his opponent. As the warrior got him once more, he activated his magic circle and called, "Water shield." He brought up a barrier between himself and the warrior. "I do want to be heard. I do want to do good." He looked over at her. "But we need proof. I won't be listened to without proof, especially when we don't know who could be involved."

Sam Evans: 1d6 = (6) = 6 Santana: 1d6 +2 = (2)+2 = 4

Santana sighed. She wondered if he would get it by himself. And he did. The illusion could do him no harm. She sighned even more at the 'but’ attitude. He said the same about the Onsen, of course he would say that of the Doors. But she wasn’t going to surrender. She shouted over the magic shield. “There is no evidence left! You don’t have to be listened to, just heard! A spark of rumours, people talking about it! And it has to start with you! You are the only one who can start it, Sam!” The illusion keep attacking Sam, and Santana hoped the shield will still resist.

Santana: 1d6 +2 = (6)+2 = 8 Sam Evans: 1d6 = (2) = 2

Sam could feel his confidence in the training waning, but at least he knew that he wasn't directly hurting the warrior. He had done it. He had listened. But of course it was still too powerful and broke through the shield, causing the water to fall against him and lead him to the ground. Laying there for a moment, he panted before looking over at her. She had a point. If he wanted to make things right, then he had to fight. He would fight. There was nothing to be scared of. "Okay. I'll do it." He agreed, taking a moment to try and get his bearings.

Santana vanished the illusion, noticing Sam looked way too tired to continue. “Not bad you can work more on your Abjuration, probably Rachel can give you some useful tips, she is excellent at it.” She walked to be next to Sam. “This might be questionable, but... there is always programs about...” About killers. They had a following. People wanted to heard what they said, their morbid curiosity loved the to hear the details of a tragedy. And then you connect what you have to say to goverment incompetence. And then you talk to the first time the doors appeared. That was her original plan. But it was too disgraceful. Too her style. “No. I told you enough. If you believe this is the right thing to do, if you think people deserve to know the truth, even when it’s hard for you to do... then you’ll do it your style. Now it’s up to you.” She gave him her hand for a handshake. “Good training. You might need some healing...time to check that powers of yours”

Sam took Santana's hand to shake it before standing up the best he could, but he was so tired. "You mean the public speaking people do? I thought about it. Even watched one guy whose drunk driving killed his friends. Honestly, it just sounded like me, me, me. But I'll look into anything I can." He really found that he wanted to do this. Sam wanted an answer to the doors. Why had they come back again? "Thank you." He dug into his messenger bag and found the star sticker that had been in his Grimoire. He put it on himself and lifted his shirt slightly, pressing a hand to his stomach. <<Heal>> He could feel the need to want to heal himself, but it wasn't completely coming through. So the bruise only turned red, but didn't completely go away.

Santana raised her eyebrows. “Just... whatever you can do to help” it was in his hands now. Not that she would stop trying other ways, of course. But she really hoped Sam would help. “I... that doesn’t sound... driving drunk is not- is not the same.” She tried to explain, uncomfortable by the comparision, but more uncomfortable to have to talk about it. She tried to, but she decided to go instead, just nodding at the thank you. “Uhm, see you around, Sam, I-I have to go, good luck with the healing!”

Sam shook his head, realizing how he sounds. “No, I know. I think that’s why I didn’t like it. Sorry, I didn’t mean...” he sighed. How dud he always manage to screw things up? “See you around. And thank you for the advice.”

#para: sam #chara: sam #nimtraining #//this was a duel but i dont know how to tag the duels so i tagged it like that >-<

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alyricalberry · 7 years ago

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Make Your Move || Rachel & Shelby

Who: Rachel Berry & Shelby Corcoran

Where: Florence Farr

When: January 20, 2018

What: Rachel goes to Shelby with a question and doesn’t get the answer she wanted.

Notes: This takes place before this Puckleberry para.

Rachel was nervous as she walked to Shelby Corcoran's office, the cards from Asterismos clutched in her hand. She was confused as to why she was getting these. It was easy to pass it off as a mistake the first time, but now it happened again? It couldn't be a coincidence. So, she had decided to take Sam's advice and go talk to Professor Corcoran. It was the only lead she had, though she felt somewhat uneasy about it. She gently knocked on the door to Shelby's office. "Professor Corcoran? Is this a good time to speak to you?" she asked.

Shelby had been finishing up with her lesson's plan for the day, despite the turmoil at NYADA after learning their Dean had been charged with treason, it didn't mean that Shelby had to shirk her duties. She heard the knock and wondered who it could be. << Come in. >> Shelby said, her bright orange magic circle flashed around her pointer finger as the door swung open invitingly. Shelby rose from her seat and saw that her student Rachel was standing by the door. "Oh, Rachel." Shelby wasn't surprised to see Rachel, she had heard from the other professors at Florence Farr that Rachel Barbra Berry was quite a direct student. Shelby had her first this year. She smiled and asked, "Something amiss with your studies?"

Rachel stepped in when the door opened on its own and smiled at Shelby. "Hello," she said, awkwardly. She played with the cards in her hand and shut the door behind her. "Um, no, not at all. Everything's going fine. I really love your course, professor. I'm so glad to be taking it," she told her. "No, I wanted to talk to you about... something else. I've been getting anonymous packages - one in August and one just this week - and, well, the only identification on them is Asterismos, Inc. My friend Sam told me that your family runs it and that I should maybe ask you if you... knew why I would be getting them?"

Shelby replied back just as awkward. "Hi, Rachel." She was curious to what her student was playing around in her hands. Smiling with a hint of pride, Shelby wondered what could have Rachel, a confident student in her class, act like she had been hexed with jelly legs. Her eyebrows knitted together in a frown when she heard about anonymous packages. Then they flew at the mention of Asterismos. "What are they thinking...?" Shelby muttered in an undertone but kept it professionally as she could. "I don't have any involvement in Asterismos Company, Rachel. Perhaps someone ordered something and accidentally put the wrong address? I would carefully clear all unknown packages lest they have a malicious little curse on them. Here," she stretched out her hand toward Rachel. Her heels clacked on her office's laminated floor. "I can dispose of them for you."

Rachel frowned at the way Shelby completely shot her down at first. "That's what I thought at first but the notes... well, they seem personal. And they aren't cursed. My friend, Sam, checked if there was a curse on the first one and there wasn't," she said. She held onto the cards a little tighter when Shelby reached out, but she figured it was fine. Plus, she'd made photocopies of both cards. Just in case. She handed the cards over and put her hands in the pockets of her dress. "I feel like there's something I'm missing. I can't read the Hebrew on that second one, but it just feels important. I just wanted to see if you possibly knew anything. You're the only connection to Asterismos that I have," she shrugged.

"Rachel," Shelby took the photocopies from her and read the Hebrew instantly. "Rachel... Berry." Her eyes lit up with realization. This couldn't be happening. The couple who promised to take... they promised never to mention Shelby, for the trade they were about to make... "I'm sorry, Rachel. This just looks to be a-" Mistake. That was what had happened. Shelby was a fool in love and almost gave her parents what they wanted. "-It looks to be a practical joke. On you and me. I have no connections to Asterismos, I'm sorry, and I don't feel comfortable digging in that, I hope you understand that as a professor, I'm here to support you but I shouldn't get involved in this." Shelby did not give back the photocopies. Instead she cast a small spell, and the papers fluttered away to her desk with the sound of her perfectly pitched rolling octaves. "Now then, do you have any questions about the schoolwork?"

Rachel frowned when she saw the recognition in Shelby's eyes upon reading the note. What did it mean? She could tell that Shelby was hiding something, but she had no idea how to get it out of her. "Oh," she said when Shelby answered. "Right, of course, I understand," she added, trying not to gasp in shock when she took the papers away. She was incredibly thankful she'd only brought the photocopies of the cards and still had the originals safely tucked away. She cleared her throat and shook her head. "Um, no. No, that's all . If you say it's just a joke then I will take your word for it, Ms. Corcoran," she told her. "Can I ask, though... what did the Hebrew sentence say?

"No, I'm sorry. I can't do that." Shelby said finally, and wondered if it was a maternal instinct kicking in when she saw the sad look in Rachel's face. Guiltily, Shelby pushed those thoughts out of her head. She crossed her arms and internally sighed, not knowing how to approach this later. Would she contact her parents? She hadn't talked to them in years. Were they correct in sending Rachel the card? Was this all a case of mistaken identity? "Rachel, if you get any more. Talk to me. As of right now, please, leave me to my office, I have a class to prepare for unless you have questions regarding your studies. I'm sorry I couldn't be any more helpful."

Rachel took a deep breath and nodded at Shelby. "Right. Of course. I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Professor Corcoran. I'll see you in class," she added before leaving the office. She could tell there was something Shelby wouldn't tell her, but of course, she didn't know what. But she would find out. She had to find out, because all of this was too confusing. First, though, she had to find out what the Hebrew on that card meant.

#para: make your move #nyadisnpc

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kingdomcomerp · 5 years ago

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She had always been intense. Fresh out of the womb and carrying a tune, Hiram and Leroy sat in awe, knowing they had created something special. Along with doting and spoiling parents, dance competitions, singing lessons and watching Barbra Streisand filled her childhood. Rachel was determined to be great regardless of persons or her own personality. While other children played princess, Rachel played Fanny Brice and Maria. While others were taught against social faux pas, Rachel was taught how to perfect her soprano.

Needless to say, by high school, her classmates were not her biggest fans. She was always too much. Too socially awkward, too talkative, the kid who made sure the teacher remembered the homework, showing up at every club, correcting grammar. She wore knee-high socks and reindeer sweaters. Spoke more on The Phantom of the Opera and less on what her peers watched on Saturday. There were endless slushies and wicked names. Loneliness surrounded her often, as she would watch groups like “The Ten” with all their prestige and beauty but mostly their friendship enjoy their own high school years. In her solemn tears in the bathroom, she regularly picked herself up again; resigning herself to the fact that although she may not be the pretty Queen Bee now, her name will shine in lights eventually.

What was more true? Did Rachel need the Glee Club? Or did the Glee Club need Rachel? Life became better when she joined glee club. Her reasons for joining were selfish, a way to practice and perfect. Show choir suited her personality perfectly.To show people her talent and hone her craft. It had begun as a mismatched group but soon kids of all groups and social statuses were joining. Cheerios were mixing with Brainiacs and a quirky family of show tunes and the occasional Top 40 were being made. It was a place where Rachel looked forward to visiting everyday. All thanks to their beaconing leader Mr. William Schuester. Rachel adored their teacher. He noticed her. Uplifted her. Saw her talent and championed it. Finally, she wasn’t a joke anymore. She had people who didn’t mind if she corrected their lyrics and dance routines, who even appreciated her for it. And the Ten were her friends. She had loved them, some more than others, and worked hard for their affections. Inside Rachel knew that while she was close, she was still too Rachel to be fully accepted by them but she willfully ignored it; knowing that it won’t be long till it became the Eleven.

She had followed Mr. Schuester on purpose that day. Her suspicions for the man had grown after an awkward event of close hands that were saved by her phone ringing in the auditorium. Seeing the Ten exclude her was rude enough, but seeing them invite Mr. Schuester was an extra stab in the heart. Were they trying to replace her? Sure, Tina and Santana were great, but they couldn’t possibly reach her talent. Rachel got her first award in her diapers.

………

It was a wonder she didn’t scream. The vision of Finn digging the knife, the quiet acceptance between them all. The Ten were killers. The Ten were killers and Rachel needed to flee now. For her life, for her safety, for her career.

Glee was ruined, but Rachel was not. She evaded them until graduation stating that she needed more alone time and less time talking to hone her voice. Instead, she went back to previous Rachel except more ruthless and critical. After graduation, Rachel booked a one-way ticket to New York City. Her city. Her real home and left the dust and darkness of Lima behind. She got into NYADA, worked and worked, became Fanny Brice, and her dreams did come true. The 2007 Rachel would be ecstatic. Rachel Barbra Berry’s name was in lights now, and she was anything but a Lima Loser.

Sure, she still needed the occasional therapy for the PTSD from what she saw in 2007, sometimes she dreams of the Ten rushing towards her with the knives, but Rachel had never told. For many reasons, such as caring for her friends and hoping there were some right reasons for their execution of Rachel’s favourite teacher. Plus, everyone knew criminal witnesses never become stars.

Her obsessive personality meant she always kept checks on them. Some were lawyers, surgeons but everyone was mainly out of the spotlight unlike her who found herself with two million followers ( and counting ! ) and endorsement deals. The bright Berry was thinking of taking an offer for the cinematic production of Wicked! when the news alert came out. William Schuester found dead.

Of course, everyone would be looking at her. Rachel had cultivated a personal story about Mr. Schuester and how his “disappearance” taught her loss that enhanced her vulnerability of an artist. She had to go back to Lima and give her well wishes, perchance perform at his newest funeral.

Now she’s back in Lima, once again Rachel is the outsider. Knows a lot but not everything. Isn’t a part of the inner circle conversations. It brings back a lot of unpleasant memories. She fears that any connection to the Ten may lead to a connection to her and she’s watched enough shows to know that she was an accessory to the crime. Rachel hopes her time in Lima will be short as New York beckons for her. However, she feels no ways about guilting manipulating any member of the Ten to confess to their crime if things do go horribly wrong. I mean she’s done her part for years now keeping their secret, surely they wouldn’t want to get in the way of a STAR ?

#character: rachel berry #taken #bio

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dontstophq · 5 years ago

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RACHEL BERRY is a SOPHOMORE at WILLIAM MCKINLEY HIGH SCHOOL. she is SIXTEEN YEARS OLD, and a member of the NEW DIRECTIONS. she is SINGLE, but has a crush on FINN HUDSON.

finn hudson, crush → rachel’s been in love with finn hudson for over a year now. at least, she likes to think it’s love. she watches him walk through the hallway with nothing but stars in her eyes, and she only hopes that one day he can return the same affection. when he joined glee club, she finally got her chance to get close to him. she doesn’t want to overdo it, of course, but she’s too eager, and she can’t entirely help herself. hopefully, he’ll see there’s more to her than most girls, and they’ll be wed before the end of the year.

kurt hummel, potential friend → rachel wants to be friends with kurt. truly and honestly, she does. she understands, however, that she’s abrasive, and her personality doesn’t always mesh well with others. however, there’s too many similarities between her and kurt for rachel to let her ego get in the way. is it frustrating that he insists he’s better than her? of course. however, she’ll swallow her pride -- if only for a moment -- if it means she’ll have a friend.

quinn fabray, enemy → rachel is positive that quinn fabray isn’t always what she seems. she plays up the act of cold hearted ice queen to keep everyone at an arm’s length away. and, if she wasn’t so threatened by rachel being near finn, quinn wouldn’t be on her case all the time. there’s something else going on, something that rachel is determined to find out. this, of course, requires her getting closer to quinn, and she’s not sure how to make that happen without risking death. (metaphorically, of course.)

THUNDERCLAP REVIEW.

1. what drew you to show choir?

It might sound cliché to say that every other moment in my life has led me to this moment, but all I can tell is the truth. My truth.

I was born out of love, and ever since I made my debut into the world, I knew I was destined for greatness. My Dads did as well, and catching onto the fact that I was very verbally talented from a young age, enrolled me in every single arts class they could find in Lima, OH. I’ve been taking vocal lessons since I was two, dance lessons since I was three, and I’ve been involved in four community theatre productions since turning thirteen.

Therefore, when the show choir was finally given a new director after the... unfortunate incident with Mr. Ryerson, it was nothing less than an act of fate. With a club that allows my truest talents to shine, I’m one step closer to my New York City destiny. Though I’m the unofficial captain of a team that lacks any real coordination, leadership, or flexibility, I’m doing my best to ensure that the New Directions are a hit at William McKinley. My entire future depends on it.

2. who do you think is the most popular person in school, and why?

This question seems targeted to those who aren’t fortunate enough to grace the top of the social pyramid. Though I myself can admit the strange longing to be popular, it’s obvious that no one can take the metaphorical crown from Quinn Fabray. And, by that respect, her counterpart -- Finn Hudson.

There’s something archaic about the way that people value athleticism over true talents like the arts, however I’ve been made very well aware that my opinion on such things rarely matters when it comes to conversations about the do’s and don’ts of high school. Either way, they’ve been happily together for over a year, and there’s little chance of anyone -- or anything -- changing that in the few short years we have left.

Perhaps it’s Quinn’s classic Hollywood glamour and good looks, and Finn’s rugged but approachable build that makes them the perfect blend of the teenage American dream. I, however, prefer reality, and things like social hierarchies simply don’t matter when you’ve graduated. My status in high school cannot and will not affect my Broadway dreams, and the jock heads that waste their breath belitting me will surely change their tune once my success has overshadowed anything they’ve amounted to.

3. out of everyone in the world, who would you say is your biggest inspiration?

Barbra Streisand. With ease. It’s no secret that Barbra and I are cut from the same cloth -- both Jewish, both trained in the theatric arts, and both told we’d never amount to anything due to our looks. While I can agree that I’m not what you’d call conventionally attractive, looks don’t matter when it comes to talent. I can out perform anyone within a one hundred mile radius of this cow town, and I can and will prove that with each passing day that the New Directions grow.

This group is my chance to show that the things people call me and the names they like to throw my way are meaningless, because what I lack for in personality and looks, I make up with my undeniable skills. Barbra overcame a handful of struggles until she made her big debut in Funny Girl, and ever since, she’s been fighting back against stereotypes. Along the way, she’s become a Tony award and Oscar winning icon, inspiring people just like me around the world to pursue their dreams with hopes of validation and acceptance.

I could never be her, of course, but I can certainly be the best Rachel Berry I can. With her guidance, I can truly do no wrong.

#c: all.#c: taken.

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startyourfuturerp · 6 years ago

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congrats, admin julie! you’ve been accepted as rachel berry. please remember to follow everyone here, and send in your account within 24 hours!

note: I’m posting this as an example application! Please do not feel like your bio has to be as long as the one here; I’m just...extra.

ooc

Name: Admin Julie

Age: 25

Timezone: EST

Triggers: rfp

Past Blogs: rfp

Name: Rachel Barbra Berry

Age & Date of Birth: 17; 12/18

Schoolyear: Freshman

Hometown: Red Cloud, Nebraska.

Major(s)/Minor(s): Musical Theater/Dance

Backstory:

Rachel has gotten used to being alone.

Born in Abilene, Texas, to an emancipated high school senior of a mother and a father with a full-ride football scholarship to UT-Austin who had no intention of giving p his future, there was no way they could support a baby.

Enter: Hiram and Leroy Berry. They’d been looking to adopt for years, and finally they stars aligned - that’s what they say, when they tell the story, which Rachel loves because stars are sort of her symbol - it’s a metaphor, for her being a star.

So the stars aligned, and Rachel was taken from Abilene, Texas, to Red Cloud, Nebraska - an 11-hour drive with an infant. Hiram and Leroy say, was their first and most grueling test of fatherhood.

Rachel was precocious from birth, though, being highly intelligent and verbose, even before she could speak in full (or any) sentences. Her propensity for music developed early, and Hiram and Leroy have the crackly old home videos to show it, with Rachel pulling herself up in her playpen to dance along with ABBA or baby-gurgle in response to Barbra in Funny Girl. Rachel says that she’s always been destined for the stage.

Unfortunately, being destined for the stage - or, really, being destined for anything at all - is that others...are not. And when people who are not destined for anything (or worse, destined for nothing) come across someone so clearly meant for more, they get...mean.

In Rachel’s case, they get very very mean.

School was difficult for Rachel. Not academically, of course - Red Cloud’s public school system was a joke - but socially, emotionally. That was harder. That was not a joke. It went beyond the garden variety kind of cruelty children dole out to each other - Rachel assumes that was worse for her because she didn’t give up. She didn’t ever let their opinions change who she was, fundamentally, on the inside. Sure, she spent more lunchtimes than she cares to remember eating by herself in the girl’s bathroom, but that didn’t stop her from auditioning for and winning the leads in nearly every school performance; it didn’t stop her from joining and running nearly every club Red Cloud High offered. It didn’t stop her, period. Nothing could, she thought.

She was wrong.

Everything got worse when junior year began. Kids were finding more creative and insidious ways to pick on her; she maintains she could’ve handed it, but her objections were overruled when she accidentally left her phone unlocked on the counter while she was making dinner. A text came in, from a blocked number; a text saying terrible things. Nothing she hadn’t been called before, but still. Rachel didn’t even actually see it, didn’t hear her text tone go off, but Hiram happened to be passing by, and, well, his reading that text preceded a week of meetings with the school: first, the vice principal and guidance counselor, then the principal, then the school board. When nobody could or would do anything to protect their baby girl, Hiram and Leroy pulled her from school. Leroy got certified as a home-school teacher and took a sabbatical from work, and they never looked back.

Still, being homeschooled didn’t solve all of her problems, as much of as a relief as it was to be able to study in peace and not worry about being harassed at every turn. As her junior year rolled in to her senior year, her daily lessons became integrated with college prep, and by October she knew there was only one college worth applying to: NYADA.

And she really thought she’d get in. So did her dads. She spent months rehearsing for her audition - and then she choked. For the first time in her life, she choked.

She was sent a swift and expected denial letter.

Rachel was not going to let something like that stop her. She was nothing if not dogged, determined, and driven - and she got what she wanted.

She got a second audition. She killed it. It was the best she’d ever sung.

She didn’t get in.

The rejection letter, this time, was a little kinder, but not by much - it involved a critique of her performance that Rachel thought was entirely incorrect, but the main reason for her rejection wasn’t her singing ability - it was her academics. Red Cloud High wasn’t exactly a big name in the world of high school academics, and even if it had been, being homeschooled probably had hurt as much as it had helped.

There was no fixing this.

Rachel stayed in ed for two weeks. Actually, most of June is still a bit of blur - a blur that ended, naturally, by her dads, refusing to watch their baby girl waste her talent and waste away entirely.

It turned out that while they absolutely believed Rachel would get into NYADA, they’d hedged their bets. Unbeknownst to Rachel, they’d applied to other schools on her behalf - UCLA, Julliard, and each of her fathers’ alma maters, NYU and Ginsburg University.

Rachel, at that point, barely cared where she went, or if she went anywhere, for that matter, but after three breakneck weeks of college tours, interviews and research, Rachel found herself with a renewed fire in her belly and a re-invigorated desire to prove herself. She also found herself a member of Ginsburg U’s 2019 incoming class.

She’ll show NYADA what they’re missing. She’s going to show them all exactly how wrong they’ve been about her all these years. She’s going to prove herself, and she’s going to blow them all away.

She has to.

Sample: rfp

#syf!accepted #syf!rachel

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acuppellarp · 8 years ago

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♬ Full Name: Rachel Barbra Berry ♪ FC: Lea Michele ♫ Alternate FCs: ♪ Age/Birthday: 25 / December 18, 1993 ♫ Occupation: Session musician, member of Pamela Lansbury ♪ Hometown: New York, NY ♫ Personality: ambitious, dedicated, egotistical, opinionated, passionate, stubborn

As a Berklee alum, Rachel had no misconceptions that the road for a musician wouldn’t be the easiest. She was grateful for the connections she had forged during her education as they helped her find a land a few initial gigs and interviews upon graduation. Between freelancing her percussion skills, working weddings and the holiday season, offering lessons, and dog walking, Rachel was able to make rent at both her apartment and shared studio space.

About a year ago Rachel was offered a part-time position at a Brooklyn recording studio, which turned into a full-time contract after four months. The steady income and reliable hours have allowed Rachel to scale back in regards to other side jobs. She only worked two previously booked weddings at the beginning of May and has since hung up that hat, as well as her dog walking shoes, though Rachel still enjoys volunteering at Olive’s animal hospital when time allows. She’ll like freelance again during the holiday season because the gigs are fun and the pay’s good, but for right now Rachel’s content to jam with Pamela Lansbury and enjoy having a bit of free time to spend with friends and family.

Even from conception – Donny Hathaway was crooning “Love, Love, Love” – Rachel Berry was surrounded by music. It was what brought her parents together after all. Shelby Corcoran and Hiram Berry had plenty to drink the night they stumbled on stage and stole the crowd with their rendition of “I Finally Found Someone.” There was certainly a spark, a moment of magic, and Hiram thought, “Well, what if…” before he followed Shelby home. But by the time the sun crept through gauzy curtains the morning after, Hiram, now sober, knew Shelby wasn’t an exception. He was nice enough to go out and get bagels and coffee to go along with his explanation, and eight months later Shelby was nice enough not to track him down and blow up his life. She still used his surname on the birth certificate, though, and Shelby thought since Barbra was part of their one night affair, maybe that was meant to be, too, because Rachel Barbra was certainly meant to be in her life.

From the moment she was born, Shelby was smitten by her little star. And though at times it was a struggle to make ends meet on her teacher’s salary alone, she strove to ensure that Rachel had every opportunity imaginable, especially when her aptitude for music became apparent. Honestly, Shelby couldn’t remember a time – except when Rachel was sound asleep – that their home was quiet. Rachel would serenade her stuffed animals, conduct a percussive symphony of pots and pans, or pluck away and figure out melodies on the upright piano in the living room. She actually never even gave Rachel her own lesson. Instead, at just three years of age Rachel watched Shelby instruct one of her students, and while Shelby was setting up the next lesson before sending the child off to his mother, Rachel climbed on the bench seat and stretched her little fingers to reach the chords. Rachel’s interest in anything that could produce sound and rhythm blossomed from there, and Shelby did her best to nurture it.

It helped that the orchestra teacher at Shelby’s school didn’t mind Rachel using his practice rooms as a way to sample and experiment with new instruments, that he was generous in letting Rachel take home loaners for periods of time, and eventually assisted Shelby in tracking down and purchasing gently used instruments without her savings account taking too hard of a hit. He even offered his own lessons when he could and it would be helpful, but Rachel was a quick study and usually preferred to learn on her own.

Which is what made Rachel’s own schooling somewhat difficult, especially when her belief in her superior skills and abilities rubbed both her peers and instructors the wrong way. Her attitude certainly didn’t help her make friends or endear her to teachers, but no one could deny Rachel’s talents. And humility did of course come when Rachel moved to Boston to attend Berklee and found herself among numerous other big fish in a selective campus pond. And much like Shelby had provided for her, Rachel took every opportunity to learn about the business through the school’s venues, labels, and recording studios. Through connections made, Rachel could have stayed in Boston upon graduation, but the pull to return to New York was strong, and Rachel felt the need to give back and help out her mother in any way she could.

Rachel works all over the city and feels lucky to land enough paying gigs – through one-off hires, solo shows, contracts at recording studios, weddings, and Pamela Lansbury – that she’s able to make a living doing what she loves. Plus, she offers lessons and walks dogs in her spare to squirrel away a decently-sized rainy day fund. Because Rachel does have hopes that one day the right person will be in attendance at a wedding, or in Acup to a grab some coffee and her star that gets to flicker on small stages (for) now, will find its truth path to shine brighter than ever.

♬ Dani Harper

Roommate, good friend, and band partner. Dani is just the right amount of laid-back to mesh perfectly with Rachel’s more high strung tendencies, and they both share their love of music and dreams of making it big in that world.

♪ Dani Harper, Kate Hummel, Santana Lopez and Ellie Gilbert

The other four-fifths of Pamela Lansbury. Obviously Rachel adores Dani, and she feels like she understands some of her frustrations when the others don’t take practices or gigs as seriously as she does. And Rachel likes Ellie a lot, too, because along with Dani, she’s a good buffer for when egos come out to play and Kate and Santana refuse to acknowledge Rachel for the star she is. But Rachel’s slowly learning to take a walk around the block rather than chucking a drumstick (her aim’s horrible anyway) at an ego-inflated head.

♬ Fiona Hudson

Rachel’s first love. They met the first summer Rachel was back in the city after Berklee. Rachel fell hard and fast for Fiona, and was a bit intense in her pursuit. They were inseparable, but then Rachel returned back to Boston, and a LDR just wasn’t in their cards. Every now and again Rachel wonders what could have been if she was better at prioritizing her time and wasn’t so tunnel-visioned, or if Fiona and Quinn hadn’t been together when she moved back to New York. There’s still some lingering feelings, but Rachel’s content enough to let them simmer (for now), and enjoys her friendship with Fiona.

♪ Jessi St. James

Jessi is everything Rachel could ever want in a partner. Confident, gorgeous, and almost as talented as she is. If only she wasn’t her band’s rival. Though, that hasn’t stopped them from making out in A Cup-pella’s bathroom on occasion after performances.

♬ Samantha Evans

They flirt. A lot. It’s never gone further than that, though, so for now they’re happy to enjoy their flirtationship and see where things go.

♪ Shelby Corcoran

Rachel’s relationship with her mother is one of the most important in her life. In adulthood now, Rachel’s able to understand and appreciate all the hard work and sacrifices Shelby chose as a single-mother to ensure that she had all the opportunities in the world to pursue her music-related passions. They have a long standing tradition of weekly family dinner dates on Sunday. Shelby also works at the same elementary school as Fiona, Sam, and Rowan. She teaches a handful of the music classes there before finishing her day out at the neighborhood high school with their show choir.

#acup: rachel #ch: tc #ch: ac #ch: taken

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alyricalberry · 8 years ago

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All These Things That I’ve Done || Self-Para

Who: Rachel Berry with an appearance by Hiram and Leroy Berry

Where: The Berry home in Columbus, Ohio.

When: March 2nd, 2017

What: Hiram and Leroy call Rachel home after being notified that she was charged with obstruction of justice following the events of Samhain. Rachel’s big mouth then gets her into more trouble. I.e. why Rachel has been gone for two months. Definitely not bc Raven is the worst.

Note: Anyone who is close friends with Rachel/has classes with her/is in a club with her would have interacted with her. She’s just been absent from Tumblr.

Warnings: None!

Rachel was nervous.

Usually when her dads called her home, they did so with a promise that they would spend lots of time together. It was always happy. This time was different. Hiram’s voice had been very serious on the phone, simply telling her that they’d called NYADA to arrange a portal for her for the next day and that they’d be waiting for her on the other side.

Rachel was worried. Was something wrong? The only other time she ever remembered Hiram using that serious tone with her was when she was six and had used her magic to “accidentally” make the lead ballerina in a show she was in sprain her ankle, thus giving herself the lead spot.

As she stepped into the portal, Rachel tried not to overthink it too much. Maybe they were acting serious so that she wouldn’t expect a surprise party or something when she got home. She definitely wouldn’t put it past them.

And when she stepped out of the portal, there were her dads, smiling happily at her. She hugged them tightly and followed them to the car. Maybe she’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe they just wanted to see her.

However, when they got to the house, they asked her to go sit at the dining room table, sitting across from her.

“Is everything okay?” Rachel asked with a frown, eyeing the papers Hiram set before them. “You two aren’t breaking up, are you? Please tell me that isn’t why you called me home.”

Leroy chuckled and reached for her hand. “No, Rach, that’s not why we called you home. Don’t worry,” he told her reassuringly.

“We called you home, button, because of this letter we received from the Cardines telling us you were being charged with obstruction of justice,” Hiram said, raising a brow at his daughter.

“Oh... I can... I can explain that,” Rachel said, sitting up straighter. She’d barely had time to come to terms with the events of Halloween herself. How was she going to explain it to her dads? Would they even believe her? She hadn’t believed Adam when he told her that something strange had happened that night. Would her dads not believe her either? She didn’t know. But she knew she had to try.

“It was Halloween. I went to the Greenwich parade with Blaine and Tina and Adam and Elliott. Everything was fine until this... door appeared out of nowhere. It said something to Blaine and then he got swallowed up by it. Then the door started moving, so we followed it. It eventually opened again and Adam, Tina and I wanted to go in after Blaine. I’m not entirely sure what happened, but I’m the only one that got through. I ended up in the forest on the NYADA campus and ran into a few other people. We were trying to find Blaine but then these Cardines came in and told us to go back to campus. But what were we supposed to do? I was worried about Blaine. So, I may have fought back... a little. That’s where the charge comes from,” Rachel said all at once, her hands fidgeting the whole way through.

Looking up at her dads, she could tell they didn’t believe her. Of course, they didn’t. It sounded ridiculous. Or maybe... were they affected by the same memory wipe the Cardines had put on everyone on campus? She barely had time to think about it before Leroy reached for her hand again.

“Rachel, how come we never heard about any of this? This kind of event would make the news somehow,” he said.

Rachel sighed. “I’m not sure. After we gave our statements, the Cardines wiped all our memories. I only remembered this a few weeks ago...” she said. “I know it sounds like a crazy story, but I promise it’s true. I wouldn’t lie about this. I can put you in touch with Adam or someone. They can back up the story. But I was just trying to help my friend and I was frustrated because the Cardines weren’t letting me.”

Hiram sighed. “We believe you, Rachel. I’m not that surprised to hear that the Cardines would have done a large-scale memory wipe like that,” he said. “However, I do agree with them on one thing. You should have gone somewhere safe, not jumped into a random floating door. You could have gotten hurt, Rach!”

“Daddy, please, I would have been fine. I’m a stronger fighter than I was before. I’ve been training with my friend Santana, and I’ve been doing well in my Field Studies classes,” Rachel said.

“That’s beside the point, Rachel. You’re nineteen, you’ve barely had time to develop your powers to be as strong as they can be. Even Barbra Streisand had to wait until she was in her twenties to star in Funny Girl,” Hiram said. “Even if the Cardines can be shady, they were there to protect you that night, and you should have listened to them.”

“My age has nothing to do with how skilled I am. I came this close to winning Midnight Madness, you know. I probably would have if Mike hadn’t broken up with me the night before.”

The minute the words were out of her mouth, Rachel knew they were a mistake. The look on her dads’ faces only confirmed that. She had no idea if they knew what Midnight Madness was, but the name sounded bad enough that they didn’t need to know.

“I’m sorry, Midnight Madness?” Leroy said. “Rachel, tell me you didn’t.”

Rachel just shrugged, knowing that saying anything else would get her in more trouble.

“What’s Midnight Madness?” Hiram interjected. “We’ll get back to the Mike issue later, by the way.”

“Midnight Madness is this stupid competition where students duel each other for a meaningless crown. A few of my friends participated when I was at NYADA,” Leroy said.

“It’s not meaningless,” Rachel muttered.

“It’s also highly dangerous. So many students get hurt, Rachel! What’s happened to you? You used to hate offensive spells,” Leroy continued.

Rachel sighed. “I don’t know... I just wanted to win, I guess, and show that I was strong.”

“You can show you’re strong by enhancing your spells and doing well in school, Rachel. That’s why we let you go to NYADA, not so you could participate in illegal duels and risk your life when mysterious floating doors are involved,” Hiram said. “Listen, Rach, we aren’t angry with you. We’ve already paid the fine. We just wanted to know what happened. And I think it’s a good thing we asked you to come home.”

Rachel’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Thank you. I really appreciate it. I’m fine, though, really. I know everything sounds bad, but I’m fine, really. You don’t have to worry,” she said.

Hiram raised a brow. “We are going to worry, Rachel Berry. That’s our job. You need to stop being reckless, sweetheart. Your ambition is inspiring, but there are real world consequences, and you need to be careful. Especially in the next few mo-”

“Hiram,” Leroy interjected, giving his husband a stern look.

Rachel frowned. “What are you saying?”

Hiram took a deep breath. “We’re saying that we don’t want you participating in any more dangerous... activities. I don’t think your powers are truly strong enough to protect you from actual danger,” he said. “If you get in trouble again, Rachel, it might be best if you came home, or maybe go to another school. I doubt Magic Harvard has as much drama as NYADA seems to have.”

Rachel’s jaw dropped. “That’s not fair! You’ve always had faith in my magic and now you suddenly think I’m weak?” She didn’t even know how to react. Her emotions had already been all over the place because of everything that had happened in the last few months, and now this? Her dads didn’t even trust her?

“Honey, you’re very talented, everyone knows that. But you’ve only been working on your EvoDest spells for a couple years now,” Leroy said. “You can’t jump into danger when you can’t adequately protect yourself, though. Just focus on your schoolwork, okay? It’s what’s best.”

Rachel sighed and thought for a second before nodding. “Okay. I’m sorry to have worried you,” she said. “I’m just going to go unpack my bag, okay? Maybe we can order takeout after?”

“That sounds great,” Hiram said.

Rachel nodded and kissed both of them before going up to her room. She lay on her bed and pulled out her phone, wanting to talk to someone about what had just happened. By who? Mike was out of the question. She and Tina were still on shaky ground. Definitely not Santana. She didn’t want to worry Sam, and she didn’t feel like talking to Adam. Blaine would be the best option but... after everything that happened to him with Ripley... or Marcos, Rachel knew he needed to rest. Not to mention that Rachel felt incredibly guilty for not having stepped in and helped him earlier.

She threw down her phone on the bed and ran a hand through her hair. Maybe laying low for a while would be best. She’d gotten herself into so many messes over her first year at NYADA. Time to focus on her schoolwork would probably do her some good and allow things to settle down...

#para: all these things that i've done #//this is so long wtf #tag: berrydads

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