Coming Out of Her Shell (Open RP!)

[Plague of Wasps]

Plague--No, Gwen--(she still had a hard time with her real name) had made it out of her room for the first time in what felt like ages. She was exhausted, having studied her brains out for the one. Final. Make-up test that this wretched school was putting her through. That, and her weekly visits to the Longbow offices, her volunteering at the Hive rescue clinic, and other crazy-busy things occupied her entire time.

So now she flicked through channels randomly on the student lounge television, growing steadily more and more dejected as she skipped commercial after commercial. Being busy twenty-four seven was something she'd come up with to keep herself from going insane post-breakup - she hated the feeling of heartbreak, and hated the feeling that someone else needed to comfort her for her own screw-ups. So she'd confined herself, emotionally and physically, and the weight of the self-imposed isolation felt heavy upon her eyelids and shoulders.

But now it was coming to an end. The schoolwork was almost caught up, and even violent crime in the Hive seemed to have gone into a lull. She was running out of things to distract herself, and now all her emotional repression was coming back up to the surface, with a vengeance. She didn't know how to deal, apart from stare zombie-like as the screen vomited up product placement and glittering, smiling faces. An infomercial here, a Statesman-sponsored message to the public there. Reporter coverage on the Rogue Isles, superhero fashion models. Vomit, excrement, garbage.

After about an hour or so of switching through channels, she turned off the TV and lay across the couch, head slumped on the arm-rest, her insect wings twitching as she mussed up her hair with clawed fingers. When was the last time she'd talked to anyone in Westbrook? It felt like she'd gone completely mute, or become a hermit, or something... and only now was she recovering her voice. She couldn't remember the last time she'd sat down with Cadence, or visited with Etienne, or pranked Elijah or even bugged Lorne or sparred with Arthur. She'd become dead to the world.

She felt quite dead, actually, sprawled out on the couch like that; it was more than a little cathartic. And it was likely she'd stay this way for some time, selfishly taking up all the room on the tv couch, until someone intervened. Either a compassionate student would take pity on her wretched state, or some bloke could just throw her off to catch a ball game with his buddies. Either which way, she wasn't going to move on her own accord!

[OOC: This got a little out of hand with the tl;dr. Sincere apologies. x_x Hope someone finds it legible!]

[Roach Copeland]

Some nights were easier for Roach. Some nights he would be able to close his eyes, concentrate on the music from his headphones, and drown out all the whispers around him. To escape into a dream and be away from the thoughts and self doubt that everyone hid but he secretly shared with them.

Sadly, tonight was not one of those nights.

No, after hours of tossing and turning, hours of shifting through different cassette tapes filled with horribly sounding bands, he finally just had to toss on a pair of socks, throw on some pants, and head out the door.

It was easier if he just kept on moving. Past the rooms where he felt the occupants thinking about the girl that got away. Past the room where the student was reciting test answers over and over in his head. Away from the room that oddly had a female thinking what Mister Deathrage looked like twenty years ago and if he was cute.

So he moved. Out of the dorms, further away from people with idle hands and even more idle thoughts. Through the halls and down the stairs.

He caught the hint of television playing, a figure slumped on the couch who was hidden by the shadows and the subtle glow of the television.

TV always helped. Keep his earphones on playing his music, keep his eyes focused on the screen, and eventually, he'd be with his own thoughts again.

So Roach moved and hopped over the back rest of a chair, flopping down in the recliner and throwing his legs over the chair's arm. He tossed a glanced towards the couch, offering a lazy, two-fingered salute before turning his focus back towards the television. "Sup, Gwe-"

He blinked, stopped, and did a double take. He hopped to his feet immediately, staring at her.

"What the hell?! Wasp girl? You go here now?!"

He groaned, rubbing at his face before turning away from her, mumbling before she even had a chance to talk. "Of course she's here! Why wouldn't she want to show up to accuse me infront of everyone of bein' a thief."

(Wrote this rather quickly during a coffee break We meet again, Gwen.)

[Plague of Wasps]

Of all the people to run into in this crazy school. Of all the people, it had to be this guy, didn't it? Plague roused from her stupor to stare into the face of a very familiar individual... Roach Copeland, the crazy psychic dude, who to her mind was either a two-bit thief or a paranoid conspiracy theorist, or a bit of both. As she regarded the boy with a little bit of astonishment and awe - to run into this guy three times in different settings! - she found a little of herself come back to her.

"Well, hi there," she replied, flashing the boy a fanged grin, pulling herself up into a seating position to leave Roach some room. "Roach... Copeland, right? Small world, huh? C'mon, sit down--" She patted the seat next to her, before locking her arms behind her head, stretching out a little bit. She still looked like crap, probably, but seeing this nutjob - albeit a nutjob she considered easy to handle - somehow lifted her spirits.

"They let you into this school, did they?" she asked him wryly. "What'd you do - Lord Recluse award you a scholarship? Or did you rob someone's tuition fee on the way here?" A mirthful glint flashed in her eyes - she was starting to see how this might be fun.

[Roach Copeland]

Naturally, she'd bring up his past.

Roach crossed his arms over his chest as she spoke- Wait, no... as she mocked- and offered her the best smirk he could muster. Oh, deep down he felt the sting of the comments. Not that he was emotionally invested in her opinion of him. But to be compared to either a thief or a minion of Recluse? Ouch.

What a bug brain.

She was offering him a seat now, patting the seat near her as if he would want to get close. Probably was looking to suck on his neck and lay her eggs downs into his spine or something. So, instead of scooting up nice and close, he just sat back down in his chair. Plenty of distance away from her but not so close in order to chance her spawning on him.

"Naw- They did a round up to the kids they thought had some serious talent. You know, heavy hitters? Apparently, I was too good to pass up. Though, I guess they laxed their standards. Wait- don't tell me!" He snapped, as if the idea just came to his mind. "They gave you free board so they could use you to clean the wasps nest from the gutters, right? Figured a failed queen bee was better than nothing."

And with that, he smirked. Two smirk and an insult in a matter of a minute. Oh, this was just going to be a start of a beautiful friendship.

Like he wanted one, though. Especially from the Spawn Queen herself!

[Plague of Wasps]

"Serious talent, huh? Yeah, I guess they did lax their standards after I showed up. Guess that explains how you got in," she returned fire with a smirk, enjoying this. "But it's good to see you too, dude." Or good to be forewarned of you anyway, she thought grimly to herself. She was going to have to booby-trap her dormitory.

As they spoke, seeing that her invitation had been spurned, she relaxed her limbs atop the couch again, resting her lower back against the arm of the couch - she was always careful not to press her wings into uncomfortable spots. They fluttered a little bit to dispel tension as she regarded him. She couldn't imagine he'd changed much, still looking like a street kid with that stupid hat - but then, how was she to talk? Since they'd talked, Plague's hair was no longer green, but yellow, and coming down in loose strands around her shoulders. It mitigated the "butch" look she'd carved out for herself, though there was still a hardness in her eyes from time to time.

"And if you wanna know the real secret, they're putting me down as hall monitor. Y'know, patrol the hallways, make sure people are in class, sting the crud out of anyone trying to pick the locks on the dorms... that kind of stuff!" She tilted her head with a satisfied smile, before regarding Roach with a cool look. "Not that we'll be having any problems 'cause of that, right?"

It was a bluff, but that didn't stop her from trying it out on him. In truth, she hadn't intended to get him this riled up - she was more the kind to tease and then accommodate than she was to outright bully, but it was too hard to resist when it came to this guy. He always seemed like a single word could make him go spastic at any moment.

[Roach Copeland]

She was bluffing.

Well, he was mostly sure of this. But hell, it didn't matter. She wanted to act all high and mighty, he wasn't going to just roll over and let that happen. So, he did what he would normally do in this situation- He acted like Holdt would act. Tough. Suave. Like he didn't have a fear in the world.

He raised his chin, arms crossed over his chest as he put his boots on top of the coffee table in front of him. His smirk returned before he just blew her a playful enough kiss. "If you wanna sting me, honey, you don't need to wait until I'm breaking the rules. Lord knows you've been followin' me since I ditched your advances back at the boardin' pin."

He tilted his head a bit to the left, frowning a bit as he feigned curiosity. "Wait- Man, I didn't even think about that. Last I saw you, you were still gunghoe about fightin' the good fight with the rest of those folks at the boardin' pin. Guessin' they finally got tired of your mosquito bites, huh?"

Reaching into his pocket, he plucked out a candy bar and peeled off the wrapper. Still keeping that smirk on his face, he nibbled the corner before offering it towards her. Holdt had taught him that move. Say somethin' to get them real pissed and then bam! Act all mannerly. Really dug the folks into some pissed off trenches!

[Plague of Wasps]

She'd have to have handed it to him, that remark did piss her off - probably not the way he intended it, though. Her eyes narrowed just a little bit, thinking back to the Dodgers, what she had left behind coming here... but she wasn't going to tell him about her circumstances; wasn't going to tell him about Longbow, or her parents, or about why she was here. Instead she turned back to him, regaining composure with that mirthful smile of hers.

"Seems like you say a lot of stuff without thinking, huh Roach? But it doesn't matter... eventually, you'll be pulling that line on someone less understanding than me, and you know what'll happen?--Fft!" She made a gesture with her hand, imitating something blowing up into thin air. It was a prophetic statement she was sure he'd fulfill - this boy seemed like he had a knack for getting into trouble.

"As for me? Well, let's just say some of us actually wanted to complete their high school degree. Shocking, I know - they did tell you this place was a school, right? A private school?" Another deprecating glance towards Roach, wondering not for the first time how this guy actually managed to enroll here.

[Roach Copeland]

He kept his lips shut as she spoke, tightly pressed in order to keep his reaction to her words from striking out before he had a chance to refine them. Oh, she had a real stinger, this one. Hell, though, he remember that from the first time they met. And she just knew where to strike.

Roach wasn't stupid. Uneducated, yes, but he wasn't stupid. And he wondered if she was able to pick up that this was a sore spot for him, because regardless of how much restraint he possessed, her questioning his intelligence was something he couldn't let continue. So, he hopped up, pointing a finger her way.

"How 'bout you take a page out of your family's history and just end up workin' as some stripper near the airport, Honey Bee? Plenty of fetish-clubs near them, I hear," he spat as he took a step closer to her. He wasn't afraid of her- Hell, he'd drop her on her head if she tried spawning on him! "I'm kickin' ass with my grades currently-"

Lie

" - and you'd be lucky even to get close to what I'm goin' to score. So how 'bout you find a nice light and fly towards it? Bug off."

And with that, he just stood his ground, finger pointing and eyes narrowed.

True, she had been here before. But... well... she was being a bitch! So, that meant the television area was forfeit.

[Elijah Elliot]

Eli had woken up from some sort of nightmare involving zombies. He couldn't remember the details, but then, he didn't really want to. There was enough bad stuff happening while awake, he didn't need to add dream stuff as well. He couldn't find his way back to sleep, so he figured he'd go down and veg a bit in front of the TV or something. He tossed a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt on, then headed down to the lounge.

He paused in a bit of surprise at the scene he was walking in to. Did Roach really just tell Gwen to find a nice light and fly towards it? And really, "bug off"? Roach was looming over her with an angry stance, his finger pointed at her accusingly. What the hell?

"I'd be careful there, Roach," Eli said, walking around the two to sit in the chair opposite Roach's, at the other end of the couch. "Gwen's got a whole lot more friends than the rest of us. You don't want to disturb the hive."

Eli settled down in the seat, content to watch the unfolding drama. And to perhaps throw in an occasional remark of his own, of course.

[Arthur Rawlings]

Ar awarded himself five points for taking the time to change out of his patrol gear at the bunker before heading for bed. Not that there was anything at all wrong with being seen in skintight leather, of course. Some questions just led to places he didn't feel like going right now. 'Why?' was one of them.

As he approached the little group, he reflexively checked the cocoon of plastic wrap that had joined his guns on the list of things that were with always him and always hidden. One dead rat, right where he left it. Check. He needed a better fix before he picked up any more of ET's habits.

"Tell me you did not start the Battle of the Bugs without me?" He vaulted lightly onto the back of one of the couches with his second best grin (Overkill, yes, but why not?) and made himself comfortable. "What'd I miss? Who's winning? Why're no one's clothes shredded yet?"