[RPG] Heirs and Liars - Speeltopic - Speeltopics

Rollentopic : https://qreaties.nl/topic/191177-heirs-and-liars
Praattopic : https://qreaties.nl/topic/191180-rpg-heirs-and-liars-praattopic-1/
Speeltopic : https://qreaties.nl/topic/191195-rpg-heirs-and-liars-speeltopic/
Storyline

Deze RPG speelt zich af in de PARFAIT Academy. Studenten volgen aan het instituut een driejarig elitevoorbereidingsprogramma, ontworpen voor de kinderen van machtige en rijke families. Het doel is eenvoudig: ervoor zorgen dat geld, macht en invloed blijven binnen de eigen kringen. Het instituut accepteert studenten die zorgvuldig zijn geselecteerd uit ’s werelds meest invloedrijke families. De meesten arriveren als erfgenamen van zowel oude als nieuwe fortuinen. Enkelingen slagen erin om via uitzonderlijke omstandigheden toegelaten te worden. Van iedereen wordt verwacht dat ze zich in deze fase van hun leven voorbereiden op de rollen die ze binnenkort zullen erven. “Reputation is everything.” Maar in een omgeving waar reputatie alles is, kan één enkel geheim genoeg zijn om een hele toekomst te vernietigen. Op een ochtend vinden enkele studenten een briefje in hun locker. “Ik weet wat je geheim is.” Iedereen op het instituut heeft een geheim. En iemand heeft besloten dat die geheimen niet langer veilig zijn.

Invullijstje

• Naam
• Leeftijd (18-22 indien student)
• Archetype
• Publieke reputatie
• Geheim
• Mogelijk motief om anderen te blackmailen
• Innerlijk
• Uiterlijk / FC
• Geschiedenis
• Extra
• Relaties


Archetypes

In een elite instituut vol met invloedrijke studenten komen bepaalde stereotypes vaak terug. • Old money : golden heir • Old money : decadent heir • Old money : nonchalant heir • Old money : reluctant heir • Old legacy : family name, but little money left • New money • Publicly known shady money • Political / royal / celebrity heir • Scholarship student • The staff kid • Transfer student • Invisible elite

Secrets

• lost fortune
• shady deals
• money laundering
• scandals
• forbidden relationships
• fake identity


PARFAIT Academy

Gelegen op een uitgestrekt privéterrein in Zwitserland, ver weg van nieuwsgierige blikken, ligt de PARFAIT Academy. Het instituut combineert eeuwenoude architectuur met moderne luxe. Hoge stenen gebouwen met klimop begroeide muren herinneren aan de lange geschiedenis van het instituut. Studenten wonen op de campus in luxueuze residenties en nemen deel aan exclusieve evenementen. Belangrijke locaties • De balzaal — officiële diners en ceremonies • De bibliotheek — studeren en onderzoek • Studentenresidenties — luxe campusleven • Tuinen — wandelpaden en geheime ontmoetingen • Studentenlounge — discussies, drama en roddels

Curriculum


Het curriculum richt zich op domeinen zoals:

• Economics
• Political leadership
• Business strategy
• Arts & cultural influence

Eerste jaar — 18-19
Tweede jaar — 19-20
Derde jaar — 20-21


Personages

Reservaties
-Reeses - f
whiterabbit - f - [decadent heir]
whiterabbut - m - [golden heir]

Personages
WillByers - Julian "Jules" Vane - [nonchalant heir] - p1
amberkishatu - Dakota Ryelle Sterling -- [staff kid] [fc. Sara Crumbleleg] - p2
-Kosame- m Dominic Adler - [new money] [fc. Thomas Doherty] -p3
verwondering - Aster De Lusignan -[old money - reluctant heir] - p3
Hellfire Leone DiMarco Delacroix [old money - wild heir] - p3
Malinin - m Ｈａｎ Ｊａｅ－ｈｙｕｎ (한재현) [old legacy - no money] - p3
- Kosame - Josephine Cheswick - [old money - digital heir] -p3
-Jennieruby- Ｙｏｏｎ Ｓｅｏ－ｊｕｎ (한서준) - [Diplomat Son]p4
hanami SUN-MI BAE [Luxury Heir?]p4
hanamiLUCÍA MARINO [?] p4
obeahCairo Rourcke [shady deals] p5
Regels

• Minimum 100 woorden per post
• Quizlet forumregels gelden
• 16+ toegestaan (met waarschuwing)
• Bespreek gevoelige onderwerpen vooraf
• Maximaal 2 characters per schrijver
• Posts mogen NL of ENG
• Na 21 dagen stilte volgt een reminder
• Reserveringen blijven 10 dagen staan

[ bericht aangepast op 14 april 2026 - 16:50 ]

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"I wonder if life smokes after it fucks me"

TOILETS• WITH SUN To Jun’s disappointment, Sun shook her head.       “No…” she said. “I figured you’d like a weekend off from… all of that.” “What’s the point of fake-dating you if I’m not even allowed to come to the GPs!” Jun protested, poking Sun in her side. But Sun kept talking. “Since your brothers were supposed to join us the week after, and they were really disappointed your father wasn’t allowing them, I talked him into letting them come to Qatar instead—as long as they do some of their study work there,” she said. “But if you do want to come, just let me know.”       “Of course,” Jun said, not needing to think twice. “Besides, I haven’t seen my brothers in a while. Can’t wait to catch up with them—and who else is going to annoy you in the paddock?” Now that F1 and family reunions were all settled, Jun invited Sun to go day drinking with Dom, who was set on Sun joining them.       “Dominic asked what?” Sun asked. “If you’d come have a drink,” Jun replied nonchalantly.       “I’ll join you for the company,” she said. “Not so sure about the drinking. I can never keep up with you.” “Oh, come on,” Jun whined. “Live a little, SunnySideUp.” He poked her again. “If you’re afraid you’ll do something embarrassing, I promise to keep you away from certain exes.” He teased her, remembering how last time she’d started poking Jae’s cheeks when she was drunk. Jun would’ve intervened, if not for his strong dislike of talking to Jae. Though if he’d known Sun was going to poke his face like he was a baby, he definitely would have pulled her out of that situation.       Last time she got drunk, she had poked Jae’s cheek and told him he had fairy skin. She did not want a repeat of that. Sun rested her head on Jun’s shoulder, scrolling through the Parfait group chat while Jun shamelessly read along. He didn’t care about that stupid tree, but he did think it was a dick move that there had been a wild night he hadn’t been part of. Whoever was responsible owed him one. “You know what, I’ll join for the drinking too,” Sun said suddenly. “Preferably in one of our rooms before everyone and their mother starts gossiping about us being alcoholics,” she muttered.       “Fine, we can go to my room,” Jun said, while he was scrolling through his FYP. Suddenly he came across a video of his girlfriend on Jae’s arm. JC looked amazing, truly formidable, smiling and charming the crowd as she blinked her long lashes. Jae, on the other hand, looked completely out of place, trying to shield himself from the flashing lights. If it had been Jun up there, he would have accompanied JC in a way worthy of her presence, with confidence and flair. “God, why did JC bring him of all people to that event?” Jun said annoyed, showing his screen to Sun.       When Sun wasn’t looking, he read to JC's sweet texts. He knew his jealousy was getting to him, but he couldn’t help it. Seeing her with any other man just pissed him off. Why was she holding on to Jae like that? Was there something going on between them? Annoyed, Jun fired off a reply and then invited Lucía to their drinking gathering, as if to say to JC: whatever you do, I can do too.       Sun closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Sometimes,” she began, lowering her voice, “I just want to flush my phones down the toilet and take a long break on a tropical island where no one knows me. Just relax in the sun, read fairy smut all day, watch K-dramas at night, and do absolutely nothing else.” “Don’t know about the fairy smut part, and I can’t get you to a tropical island right now,” Jun said, “but what I can do is give you a break.”       He jumped up from the couch, abandoned his cup of green tea, and grabbed a cold bottle of champagne from one of the fridges. Then he walked back to Sun, popped the bottle open, and pulled her to her feet before she could protest. Dragging her along, he headed to the nearby bathrooms, plucked the phones from her hands, dropped them into the toilet, and flushed.       “Let’s take that break you so desperately need.” He took a swig straight from the bottle before handing it to her. “If you really need to talk to someone, you can use my phone, but other than that, you are now officially on vacation.” To Don't Screenshot This Oh come on Lucía, be honest. You worship the devil, not Jesus. No need to be shy around us. We all know your true nature. And leave those firemen alone. They are essential workers. We need them. To JC: Why is Jae with you? To LSD: Heading to my room with some champagne. Dom and Sun are joining too. Why not bring your weed and that pretty face of yours? To Dom: Sun is in. Meet us in my room in 10 min.

[ bericht aangepast op 25 april 2026 - 18:46 ]

AT THE WHITE ROOM • WITH JC JC was an absolute natural at this. She effortlessly shared her thoughts on art, and Jae could see how everyone in the room hung on her every word. Not only were they surrounded by photographers, but the usual influencer types had gathered around them as well.       Jae knew them all too well by now, the type of girl with her phone glued to her hand, seeing the world through her camera lens instead of actually looking around. They were all taking photos of them. Suddenly, Jae became acutely aware of his own body; his limbs felt too big, too heavy, as if he was noticing his arms and legs for the first time. How did he usually stand? How did he normally look? Fortunately, most of the attention was focused on JC. The outfit she was wearing was probably already sold out online, her looks consistently reposted by fashion blogs that shared links to every item she wore, taking a cut of her success. Jae never saw those posts himself—they weren’t exactly the kind of accounts he followed—but he had once shown one to Margaux. She had called them leeches, trying to profit off JC, which Jae found rather ironic… considering her own existence also depended on JC.       But standing here now, watching JC cut the ribbon, he got an idea. What if he started one of those accounts? Not for outfits, but… Jae glanced at JC again, his gaze lingering on her handbag. Makeup? Would girls be interested in that? Which lipstick or lip gloss, whatever it was called these days, JC was wearing?       It was an absurd idea, and honestly a bit embarrassing, but Margaux had told him those girls made hundreds of euros just by posting affiliate links and earning a percentage of whatever people bought. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all… JC suddenly leaned closer, pulling him out of his thoughts. “You’re doing great,” she murmured, barely glancing at him. “You look like you belong here.” Then, softer, just for him: “Try not to fight the cameras. They like that.”       Did he really look like he belonged here? Jae didn’t feel that way at all. But the excitement of his new idea gave him a strange sense of confidence. He straightened his shoulders, smiled broadly, and wrapped an arm around JC’s waist.       “Don’t flinch,” JC added, her lips barely moving. “They’ll keep doing it if you do.” Jae followed her lead as she guided him through the room. She spoke to people, accepted compliments, and slipped effortlessly into shallow conversations. After a few minutes, she leaned toward him again.       “You can leave if you want,” she said softly, almost as an aside, her eyes still on the artwork in front of her. “I won’t be offended.” She paused. Then, just as quietly: “But I’d prefer if you didn’t.” Before Jae could respond, someone approached her to ask her opinion about a piece further down the room. JC answered in a way that made it seem like she did nothing but talk about art day and night. Jae knew that wasn’t true, and he had to admit—what JC was doing was an art form in itself.       While she spoke with the stranger, she glanced over her shoulder. Their eyes met. She made space in the circle, and Jae stepped back in beside her. Her fingers brushed along his sleeve as she handed him a glass.       Jae smiled, joined the conversation, and did his best to keep up with the superficial level at which it was unfolding. He offered his own made-up interpretations of the modern art on display, which were met with intrigued nods and polite reactions. Was this why JC loved these events so much? Because it was entertaining to play these easily influenced people? When the others in the group briefly turned to each other, JC leaned toward him again. “You are really doing amazing,” she said quietly, almost under her breath as someone else spoke over them. “For real.”       Jae returned her smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I’ll stick around a bit longer. I’m curious how many artworks will be sold today purely because you say you like them.” The gallery owner joined them, accompanied by an older man who gave Jae the impression he enjoyed spending money. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, a luxury watch on his wrist, and expensive sunglasses perched on his nose.       “JC, a photo with me and our biggest buyer, Mr. Alistair Montague?” she asked. Jae seized his opportunity and played along. “Of course.” He let his hand glide over JC’s back, smiled at the newcomers, and said, “I’ll hold this for you.” He took her handbag, since she already had a glass of wine in one hand and Alistair had reached for the other to kiss it.       The owner waved over a photographer, led JC to the nearest artwork, and had multiple, probably too many, photos taken of the trio. Jae turned away from them, walked over to the refreshments table, and positioned himself just out of sight. He opened JC’s bag, took photos of the products inside, then closed it again. Grabbing a bite-sized snack that looked like a miniature piece of art, topped with something that resembled caviar, he made his way back into the room, waiting for JC to return to his side.       It didn’t take long before she was back at his side. He slipped an arm around her waist again, offering her a small caviar-topped bite before asking, “How far does your influence actually reach? Is there a limit to what you can make these people do? Or someone like Alistair?” To: Sun why are you skipping class? are you okay? and i have some time after this event! we could meet up if you want to? To: Lucía will it make me some money? Liked most recent photo on Cairo’s OF

[ bericht aangepast op 26 april 2026 - 2:15 ]

with dominic - gardens Dominic leaned forward, his eyes drifting from her phone to the firefighters and back to her phone. “Similar,” he said, sounding utterly bored. “They all look like that. It’s part of the job description. That one,” he continued, “knows exactly what he’s doing.”       Broad shoulders and arms, acting a bit too casual. A man with the kind of confidence that showed he was very aware that he was attractive. Lucía huffed quietly, eyes dropping back to her phone. “Well, I should sure hope so,” she muttered under her breath.       “You’re aiming too safe. I’d make worse decisions.” Dom was eyeing the men as if he were some sort of scout looking for potential strippers in a shopping street. “Try the one on the left. Less symmetrical. Better face.” His gaze stayed on the man a little bit too long before he looked back at her. “You’re swiping left on that? Ruthless. You’re not subtle, by the way,” he added. “Standing here comparing them like they won’t notice. If you’re going to do it, at least commit.” He bumped her shoulder with his. “Pick one. Or I will.”       Her eyes flicked up, to Dom rather than the firefighters. He looked like he meant it. One could never be entirely too sure with him. “Out of your mouth that almost sound like a threat. And you should know by now that I don’t do subtle. I can stare. Men stare all the fucking time. I’ll start behaving once they do. Which will be never.” Swipe left. Pretty boy firefighter wasn’t going to do it. Too cocky. She could half predict what a night with him would be like. He probably had a script that he used on every girl. Not worth it. She looked up at Dominic again, pouting, her eyes glimmering with something playfull. “Only one though? That’s a bit boring.” Lazily she continued swiping. Normally firefighters weren’t really her type. She liked her guys to be a little more… pathetic, more of a mess, not so put together and organised. But she had to make do with what’s on offer and the school was too fucking small. “If they act like their job stereotypical description they probably aren’t queer, my love. I am so very sorry to dissapoint you.’’ She patted his shoulder. “You can cry if you want to. I might judge you, but I will also give you tissuepaper.”       Her swiping was interrupted by three rapid messages in a row from Jun. Lucía showed Jun’s text message to Dom. “You were planning to ditch me for Jun? So, so rude.” She shook her head, her voice taking on an exaggerated offended tone. “You wound my aching heart, Adler. I don’t think I shall ever overcome this heartbreak.” She clutched her chest. “Maybe I should prevent to faint, so one of those firefighters can save me from you.” Who was she kidding? She absolutely was not a damsel in any way. Dominic had once muttered she was a ’fucking warning label’ when she had threatened to give him a black eye after attempting to help her out in a shady nightclub. "Anyway, champagne?" To Hot Servant Absolutely no one in their right mind would pay for that To Mr. President Bold to assume I’d share my weed with you I shall go into conclave with my partner and get back to you To Don’t Screenshot This Junie, there are only two things I get on my knees for and Satan isn’t one of them. Yes I agree, we should appreciate our essential workers, exactly as I am doing right now. *sends photo*

[ bericht aangepast op 25 april 2026 - 23:42 ]

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baby, let's get messy, let's get all the way undone

outfit + high knee boots

with jun -- jun's room any text in italics is written or spoken in korean “God, why did JC bring him of all people to that event?” Jun sounded highly annoyed, which was rare for him.       Sun switched her attention from her own phone, to Jun’s. A video of JC and Jae together was displayed on the screen. The two of them looked really good together. Jae looked rather uncomfortable, but it was also near impossible to take a bad photo of him. What she did not get, was why Jun was so intensely annoyed about it. JC and Jun were stepsiblings, but she never got the feeling they had actually grown close. Nothing to warrant this level of irritation. “Come on, be nice,” she chastised him. “Jae is not used to this and JC could sell a painting to a blind person, she will be fine.” One thing she did wonder about: why hadn’t JC told her she was planning on bringing Jae onto the carpet with her? Sun closed her eyes for a bit, rambling about what she wanted in that moment. All a far away dream. The last time she had an actual vacation was in high school.       “Don’t know about the fairy smut part, and I can’t get you to a tropical island right now,” Jun said suddenly, “but what I can do is give you a break.” He got up from the couch and returned a minute later with a bottle of champagne, like a magician conjuring a white rabbit out of his high hat. He grabbed her hand, dragging her along with him.       Sun wasn’t trusting this one bit. “Jun! Jun, where are we going?” Suspicion crept up in her voice.       To the boys’ bathroom, apparently.       He snatched the phones from her hand. “If you really need to talk to someone, you can use my phone, but other than that, you are now officially on vacation.”       Oh. No. Absolutely not. With a speed that even surprised herself, Sun grabbed her phones back. “Are you actually insane?” Her voice jumped up an octave. “I appreciate the gesture but…” She was clutching her phones to her chest like they were her new born children. She hesitated, not liking what she was about to admit. “You have a point. I know it’s bad, really bad, but my mother will actually kill me if I get rid of my phones.’’ With a sigh she handed him her workphone. “Just keep this one for me until tomorrow. No throwing it into toilets, please.”       Sun stepped out of the toilet cubicle and stopped dead in her tracks.       They had not checked the bathroom before coming in. And they were not alone. A younger boy was using an urinoir, mid-action. Staring at her like she had just materialized out of thin air. Which would have been way less awkward.       Her face grew beet red. The universe must be playing some kind of joke on her. “If you tell anyone about this,” she started, her mind scrambling to come up with anything. “ I’ll tell everyone about your… teletubby boxers.” What a threat Sun, the boy must be quivering in his boots. So terrifying. Mortified, Sun turned on her heel and stormed out, her boots hitting the floor harder than necessary as she re-entered the hallway. At the far end of the hall, she spotted Cairo and Leone. Another big no no. She made a beeline to the first corner she saw, impatiently waiting for Jun. This day could not end soon enough, for a number of reasons.       When he showed up a few seconds later, she slapped his shoulder. Once. Twice. “Don’t you even dare laugh. And what were you thinking! Going into the boys bathroom together after that video circling around?” she hissed. Sun did not want people thinking she was hooking up in bathrooms. She would actually move to Peru and become an alpaca farmer. ”Let’s go before you can start more rumours.” As if he were the one that had kissed her. The short walk to Jun’s room was uneventful at least, with most students being in their classrooms. Sun slipped out of her high boots with a sigh of relief and flopped down on the fluffy carpet in the middle of Jun’s room. Her body visibly eased, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, now it was just the two of them and no one around to judge her. Just quiet. She clambered to her knees and took the bottle of champagne from Jun, taking the tiniest sip as she stared up at Jun. The carpet was soft under her bare legs. “You are a bad influence.” A faint smile tugged at her lips. She could finally breathe a little. To Jae just one of those days sounds good c: enjoy the event first though! dont rush for me To JC im too curious you are looking radiant! and yes, still on for love island!

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baby, let's get messy, let's get all the way undone

Julian “Jules” Vane “Eerlijk gezegd ben ik nog niet helemaal overtuigd dat het niet gewoon een grap is. Momenteel zijn er twee personen die een briefje hebben. Voor hetzelfde geld heeft iemand in alle kluisjes een briefje gestopt. Maar dan had iemand misschien al iets vermeld in de groep.” Jules zag dat Dakota naar haar mobieltje keek, maar leek niets interessants te vinden. Jules gebruikte deze tijd om ook een blik op zijn mobiel te werpen. Hij had helemaal geen notificaties gekregen, dus hij stopte zijn mobiel weer terug in zijn broekzak. “Dan nog, het forceren van m’n locker gaat een beetje te ver.” Fluisterde Dakota, iets luider dan voorheen. Jules knikte. Daar was hij het mee eens, dat gaat te ver. Misschien moest hij later maar even naar haar locker kijken. Wie weet waren er ergens sporen van de dader te vinden. “En als het toch geen grap is,” Dakota keek Jules aan. "Dan moeten we erachter komen wie verantwoordelijk is.“ Hij knikte en stelde toen zijn vraag, dat meer als een vermoeden klonk. Wat als iemand hun in werkelijkheid tegen elkaar op wilde zetten, dan was de vraag nog steeds; Waarom? En wat was het motief? Was er überhaupt een? “Wie zou willen dat we niet meer met elkaar zouden spreken?” Vroeg Dakota en ze wierp een blik door de ruimte. Jules deed hetzelfde en bekeek iedere aanwezige persoon voor enkele seconden. Dan ging zijn blik weer naar Dakota, die ondertussen het briefje uit haar schrikt tevoorschijn had gehaald en deze aandachtig bekeek. “Het is wel vaag. Als je er even over nadenkt... misschien is het enkel om ons op stang te jagen.” Jules haalde zijn schouders kort op na de uitspraak die Dakota had gedaan en hij zette zijn hand onder zijn kin, waarna hij begon na te denken. “Zou ik na de les je locker mogen bekijken?” Vroeg hij, terwijl zijn blik strak voor zich uit stond. “Misschien was de dader,” hij maakt een kort tegen met zijn vingers, die aantoonde dat het woord dader tussen haakjes moest staan. “slordig en heeft hij of zij bewijs achter gelaten. Of in ieder geval iets wat een hint zou kunnen geven.” Hij prutste wat met zijn pen en liet hem soepel door zijn vingers glijden. Hoe had de persoon van het briefje zijn locker zo kunnen openen, maar die van Dakota geforceerd? Was het überhaupt een persoon, of waren er meerdere? Sowieso moest hij de code van zijn locker veranderen, gewoon voor de zekerheid. Was er iemand die zijn code wist? Had hij deze ooit aan iemand verteld? Jules begon te twijfelen, zijn hart begon weer overuren te draaien. Hij probeerde rustig te blijven en haalde een keer diep adem. Controle… Houd de controle, dacht hij en hij sloot zijn ogen voor enkele seconden. Rustig blijven. Jij hebt de controle. Alleen jij. Niemand anders. Zolang niemand naar je toe komt en zegt dat ze iets weten, dan is het gewoon een stomme grap. Jules merkte dat hij iets kalmer werd en hij keek naar zijn handen. In zijn linkerhand had hij zijn pen vast, zijn knokkels wit van het knijpen. Hij ontspande snel zijn hand in de hoop dat Dakota het niet had gemerkt.

[ bericht aangepast op 27 april 2026 - 9:26 ]

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Ich liebe dich 27.12.23

Dakota Ryelle Sterling POV
Gangen - Klaslokaal met Jules

“Zou ik na de les je locker mogen bekijken?” Vroeg hij, haar focus weghalende van het briefje. Ze keek hem aan, maar z’n blik was weg van haar gekeerd naar voren. “Misschien was de dader,” zei hij met airquotes,“slordig en heeft hij of zij bewijs achter gelaten. Of in ieder geval iets wat een hint zou kunnen geven.” Ze knikte. Natuurlijk, eerst moest de crime scène onderzocht worden, dat was altijd de eerste stap. Ze dacht even terug na naar de gebeurtenis van deze morgen , of er iets speciaals uit het oog had gesprongen, maar de haast die ze had gehad liet haar herinneringen door elkaar lopen. Ze was vooral gefocust geweest op het openen van haar geforceerde locker, niet met sporen te vinden. Aangezien ze toen nog veronderstelde dat het een domme botsing geweest was. Zou het openen van de geforceerde locker ervoor zorgen dat het enige mogelijke bewijs, verdwenen zou zijn? “Ik vind je verdacht kalm”, glimlachte ze. “Ik had gedacht dat je niet zou opgedaagd zijn, nadat je ontdekte dat je locker geforceerd was.” “Wacht, je locker was ook geforceerd, toch?” Nu was ze nog minder op haar gemak. Er zat helemaal geen logica in. Waarom was haar locker geforceerd en de zijne niet… Misschien was het gewoon omdat haar locker vrij vol zat? Alleszins hij had gelijk. Ze zouden niets te wijzer worden door mogelijkheden af te gaan, zonder de plaats delict te onderzoeken. “Ik begrijp er niets van, fluisterde ze. “Maar je hebt gelijk, het beste wat we nu kunnen doen is m’n locker onderzoeken.” Ze keek naar de klok die tergend traag voorbij tikte en de professor die diep verzonken was in z’n les, waar Dakota al enige tijd niets van gehoord had. Ze stak haar ene hand op, terwijl ze met haar andere hand in een vuist liet hangen net voor haar mond. “Sorry dat ik stoor meneer, ik voel me niet zo goed, zou ik even naar buiten kunnen gaan?” Ze keek zijdelings naar Jules, kijkend of hij het aas zou vastnemen.

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"I wonder if life smokes after it fucks me"

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With Cairo in the hallway Leone stood there, vigorously chewing on the corner of his mouth to release the pent up energy. Cairo's hand had stopped him dead in his tracks. He could have pulled himself free, but he knew that the next step in Cairo's workbook involved some less friendly tactics.       Sometimes, Cairo seemed to get it in his head he had to do a solo intervention that involved a lot of speeches and 'offers' to become his main supplier. Leone wasn't an idiot, though. He wouldn't leave his influx in the hands of someone who clearly enjoyed playing judge jury executioner over his life. But, he knew the only way out of this conversation was to let him monologue, so he tried to tune his friend out while the Valium kept a leash on his temper.       "— you think I want to be a hero, because you're feeling like a victim?"       Oh, fuck that.       The wave of rage that ran through him was like a drop from a rollercoaster. Leone closed his eyes, feeling nauseous and sweaty, and tried to breathe through it. He knew his anger was passionate enough to burn the whole world down, but it was also short-lived. All he had to do was stay very, very still. If he gave himself permission to move, his feral brain would have him at Cairo's throat before he could blink. The trick was to wait and breathe until the fire died out. Or till Cairo left, which was actually preferable.       Just a — hhh. Just a few minutes till the drugs kick in, he told himself with difficulty, pushing the conscious thought past the noise in his brain. He could barely hear Cairo over it. Something vengeful living in the shadows his heart begged him to turn around and make. him. stop. Make him stop talking, stop interfering, stop trying to control his choices. To frighten him. Hurt him. And maybe then he'd finally let him live in peace. Maybe with Cairo out of his business, he wouldn't feel this angry anymore. Or at the very least he could medicate himself without any judgement.       His mind flashed an image of himself, lying outside in the rain, rendered immobile with the force of his withdrawal. Cairo turning him face-up with a hint of worry flashing through his eyes, then scolding him for disappearing.       But instead of fueling the hostile thoughts his mind was feeding him, the image banked the fire in his stomach. It sizzled out, leaving him empty. He was back in the hallway and in his body, the rush of energy leaving him as soon as it had come.       He is your friend.       "— if I judged you, I wouldn't bloody be here. I'd leave you to sort out whatever mess you've made for yourself last night - or any night before, by your-fucking-self."       Leone sagged under the weight of Cairo's hand. His muscles released their cramped position, sending a wave of exhaustion through his body. He turned around and forced himself to meet Cairo's eyes.       "You want punch me square in the face?" Guilt stabbed through his stomach at how close he had been to decking Cairo. "Have at it. You want to leave? That's fine, I won't stop you again. But I'm here, Lion. And if you won't see that for what it is, then that's on you - not me."       The silence rang in his ears, now that the noise in his head had died down. Guilt was just as overwhelming as rage, but he'd rather have the latter. Guilt dragged you down, but anger lifted you up. Made you feel larger than life. Like you could do anything, and you would be justified to do so. Anger was easier.       He did not like guilt in the fucking slightest.       So what could he say to absolve it? I'm sorry for fantasizing about grabbing your throat and slamming you against the wall again and again until you're shaking with pain and fear — in a non-sexual way? Or I'm sorry for thinking you were judging me, even though you ambushed me in the hallway and tried to force your ideas about my life down my throat? Whatever emotion he felt at that thought, it came up a bit blurred. Like a song that stopped playing before you could recognize the intro.       Supressing a stiff yawn, he studied Cairo. Dark blue eyes stared back unfazed, waiting patiently for Leone to catch up. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Leone came up with the idea to dig up his wallet and slam some money against Cairo's chest — 'you ought to get paid for being my personal case-worker' — but his heart wasn't in it.       "You don't do this," he echoed. "So make this make sense, Cairo. Why do you keep showing up, even when I've made it very clear you should back the fuck off?"       The words were supposed to come out sharp and cynical, but they just sounded vaguely confused. Maybe because he couldn't quite remember why he'd wanted Cairo to piss off. He didn't want to be alone. In fact, he thought it would be rather nice to—.       His thoughts were interrupted by Sun, who suddenly appeared at the far end of the hall looking flushed just like the first time they met, clutching something against her chest. The moment she glanced in their direction, she blushed deeper and sped into the other direction.       Leone braced himself for the blow of pain and regret, but instead he felt a rush of fondness for her. "Sun," he muttered longingly.       Suddenly, he knew what he had to do. If they met again, especially when she looked so much like she did back then, she would surely fall back in love with him and all would be well. There was no need for him to feel so alone. He could bury his head in her hair and she could stroke his back and they would be together again. If she saw him, she would realize this too, right?       He didn't bother explaining any of this to Cairo. It was all so glaringly obvious, of course his friend would understand. And also, Leone wasn't entirely sure if he'd said those thoughts in his head, or out loud.       Anyway. Didn't matter. It was all obvious.       His heart was full as he brushed past Cairo — gentler, this time — and rushed after the love of his life. [Made this part grey because I'm counting on Cairo to stop this high-as-a-kite dumbass, but I'm not sure if he would. Might change the ending based on this.]

[ bericht aangepast op 30 april 2026 - 13:56 ]

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|| Thy hatred only wakes a smile. ||

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23 ✠ Hallway ✠ With Leone ✠ Outfit When Leone turned around, Cairo found himself wishing he could take a peek inside the man's head - to snoop around in the tangle of thoughts that seemed to consume him right then. He was pretty good at character assessment, but Leone often came up with creative ways of surprising him. He liked that about him, even if said ways usually thwarted whatever plans Cairo had brewing inside his own brain. As soon as their eyes met, Cairo locked in and stared back, face neutral. "You don't do this." Leone tested the words, as if trying to see if they felt right and what to make of them. "So make this make sense, Cairo. Why do you keep showing up, even when I've made it very clear you should back the fuck off?" Cairo snorted.       "Because I'm not your scary dog to command," he admitted. Everyone knew he was a complete and utter platonic sap for Sun, he didn't even try to hide it because he never felt an ounce of shame about her being able to snap him out of pretty much whatever foul mood took a hold of him or even yank him back into submission with minimal effort. He always went willingly - for her. "Guess you've still got loyalty perks..."       One truth he wasn't willing to admit out loud just yet was that, while his worries over Leone's well-being had strictly started as a way to keep Sun's days a bit brighter, they'd slowly started to become his own. He admired Leone's perseverance - which he had to remind himself of on a daily basis because this stubborn ass -- no no. It's a good thing. It could be a good thing. Leone must've been struggling for God knows how long, and he'd found a way to cope. Not a sustainable one, but at least he didn't just give up and crumble. Cairo valued that trait in people. Was Leone volatile? At times, but then so was Cairo - and incalculable to boot. He who is without sin, and all that jazz...       Suddenly Leone seemed ten times more lost in the sauce than he'd already been and because drugs didn't just snap into place like that, Cairo turned his own face in the direction his friend had been looking in. Just in time to shoot a wink at Sun before she darted around the corner. She often reminded him of a deer; always so graceful and nimble.       "Sun." Leone's tone of voice echoed Cairo's thoughts.       Cairo turned his attention back to the dude in front of him and had to stifle a laugh at the sight of him. Had he been an anime character, his eyes would've been heart shaped, glowing ánd bulging by now. When Leone started moving forward with clear intent, however, Cairo felt obliged to switch gears. "Hey, whoa whoa." He took a couple of steps backwards and blocked Leone's path, putting his palms against the man's chest. "I mean - I'm all for it but - damn it, Lion, be here with me for like two seconds okay." He patted Leone's cheek a couple of times in hopes of capturing his attention and some focused part of his brain, however small it was. "You and Sun back together? Big yes in my book." He felt no guilt in saying this aloud. While Jun was a nice enough guy, Sun's eyes never quite took him in like they did Leone. She didn't sparkle around him, so to speak. Sun deserved to sparkle. "Going after her like this? Mate, come on. Even on - well, whatever you're on right now, you can't be thát delusional." If he is, I might have to get my hands on some of Julian's stuff. For research purposes...       And just like that, Cairo felt like The Grinch. Because he got a wonderful, awful idea.       "I could help you win our girl back," he offered. Would it come at a price? Maybe, depending on how much of dickhead Leone insisted on being. Sun might put him in best friend jail if she found out he was in cahoots with her ex-boyfriend. But honestly, it was worth it if it meant she got her sparkle back.

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Bicycle, unicycle, unitard. Hockey puck, rattlesnake, monkey, monkey, underpants.

The room never stood a chance. It bent—subtly, almost politely—but it bent all the same. Conversations curved toward her, attention tightened when she spoke, loosened when she moved. Even the cameras seemed less like interruptions and more like extensions of something already in motion. JC didn’t perform. She calibrated. Every glance, every pause, every word placed exactly where it would land best—never forced, never wasted. It wasn’t about being seen. It was about deciding how. She had already forgotten how many times she’d been photographed tonight. Not because it didn’t matter. Because it always happened. Her phone buzzed. A small, precise interruption. historical physiological. She didn’t reach for it immediately. She was mid-sentence, answering a question about a piece she hadn’t been standing near a moment ago—something abstract, something people wanted to understand just enough to feel intelligent about it. JC gave them that. Just enough. A thought shaped like certainty. A sentence that sounded like it meant more than it revealed. They nodded. Of course they did. Only then did she glance down. A text message. Why is Jae with you? There it was. Of course he’d seen it. He always did. Social media worked faster than explanations ever could, and Jun had never been the type to wait for context before deciding what something meant. JC read it once. Then again. Her expression stayed exactly the same. With anyone else, that would’ve meant nothing. With him, it meant everything. Jun didn’t leave space for interpretation. He never had. He went straight to the point—sharp, immediate, like he was already bracing for the answer he didn’t want. And she felt that. Of course she did. She just refused to react where anyone could see it. Her thumb hovered briefly, but she didn’t answer yet. Not here. Not while someone was still talking to her, still waiting for her attention like it was something to be earned. She locked the screen. Looked up. And continued like nothing had interrupted her. The gallery owner approached again, too eager, already halfway into the moment before it had fully formed. He wanted a photo. Of course. JC handed over her glass without looking, shifting seamlessly as she was positioned beside the artwork, beside Alistair Montague—money dressed as presence, presence dressed as importance. His hand reached for hers. Predictable. She let it happen. Not encouraging, not resisting. Just enough to complete the image they wanted. The cameras clicked. Again. And again. Too many angles for something that would only ever be used one way. She held the expression perfectly—not a smile, not distance. Something in between. Something that could be interpreted however the viewer needed it to be. Then it was over. Just like that. She stepped away before it could become anything more than it was. When she returned to Jae, it was easy to find her place again. The space beside her hadn’t been taken. She accepted the offered bite without comment, attention still half on the room, half nowhere at all. “How far does your influence actually reach?” Jae asked. She didn’t answer immediately. Not because she didn’t have one. Because questions like that didn’t deserve fast answers. Instead, she took a small step forward, drawing them back into the flow of the room, letting the noise fold around them again before she spoke.       “There isn’t a limit,” she said quietly. “There’s just a point where people stop pretending they’re not listening.” She paused. Then, almost as an afterthought: “It’s not influence. It’s permission.” She opened her phone once more. Jun’s conversation remained on the screen. He’s just a friend. He’s helping me. Send. A second message followed without hesitation: You saw it. You know how this looks. That’s why it works. Another pause. Brief. Then the last one: You of all people should understand covers. She didn’t soften it. Didn’t try to make it easier than it was. She knew him: Jun wouldn’t have believed it if she did. He didn’t want reassurance wrapped in something pretty— he wanted something real enough to react to, something that proved she wasn’t indifferent. And she wasn’t. Not even close. So she gave him something steady. Something he could push against without breaking it. Then she locked her phone again, sliding it away like she hadn’t just felt the shift it caused— like he wasn’t still there, waiting, somewhere between frustration and something dangerously close to care. JC glanced once across the room—Margaux still watching everything with that sharp, detached awareness of hers, Amara quieter, more still, but no less present. Everything exactly where it should be. Controlled. Contained. She turned back to Jae, the shift easy—like stepping out of one conversation and into another without anything in between. For a second, her attention rested there. Not on the room. Not on whoever was about to interrupt next. Just… there. Her eyes flicked briefly to the glass in his hand, then to the small bite he’d picked up earlier.       “Be honest,” she said, tone light, almost amused. “Is that actually good, or are you just pretending because it looks expensive?” A slight tilt of her head. “They always do that,” she added, glancing toward the table. “Make it look like art so no one questions it.” Her eyes returned to him, a little more present now. “Also—how many of these do you think people actually understand?” she continued, gesturing subtly toward the artwork. “Not the polite answer. The real one.” A pause. Then, smoother, like it belonged there all along: “You look like you’re done standing still,” JC said lightly, glancing at him as the noise of the gallery shifted around them. Her attention drifted briefly across the room—toward the bar, where people were starting to gather a little more loosely now, conversations loosening as the evening moved on. She tilted her head slightly. “I was going to get another drink,” she added, casual, like it didn’t matter either way. “Or something stronger than whatever that was supposed to be.” A faint pause. Then, a small glance back at him. She was already moving as she spoke, unhurried but certain, slipping into the flow of the room like she belonged to its direction. Her steps didn’t slow when she glanced back at him—just a brief check-in, nothing more.       “You always look like you’re watching everything happen a second before it does,” she said, tone light, almost amused as she walked. “It’s kind of a specific talent.” To Sunny: of course you are and i love you for that thank you babe 🫶 where are you right now?

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"It sounds weird to say this, but I'm really glad I hit you with my moped"

Dominic watched the firefighters the way people usually watched traffic: vaguely, like it was happening in a different universe that still somehow required commentary. The firefighters moved in the background, too cleanly confident for people standing next to scorched ground and police tape. Dominic’s eyes drifted over them once, slow and assessing, like he was reading a familiar type of story told by different faces.       “Pick one. Or I will.” Lucía looked up at him then, like she was trying to decide whether this was helpful or deeply concerning. “Out of your mouth that almost sounds like a threat,” she said. Dominic blinked at her slowly, like he was processing whether that was an accusation or just poor audio comprehension. “It wasn’t a threat,” he said. “It was a warning about your decision-making trajectory.” His eyes drifted back to the firefighters again, still lingering like he was mentally filing them under avoidable outcomes. One of them laughed at something off-camera, the sound carrying too easily across the grass.       “Also,” he added, tone unchanged, “if I were threatening you, you’d know. There would be structure. Possibly a schedule. Maybe a powerpoint.” He bumped her shoulder lightly, like punctuation “You’re overthinking my tone. I’m being generous. I could be more honest and then you’d actually have something to be offended about.” Lucía swiped again, already bored of the entire concept of restraint. “Only one though? That’s a bit boring.” That made him exhale softly, like she had fundamentally misunderstood the assignment.       “I didn’t say only one,” he corrected. “I said pick one. This is not a buffet situation, it’s a controlled experiment in poor judgement.” He tilted his head slightly, watching her screen. “You’re very efficient at this, actually. It’s impressive. Clinical. Almost respectful.” He paused. “Almost.” Lucía patted his shoulder. “And for the record,” he added, glancing back at the firefighters, “I could probably improve your selection process in about ten minutes if I was allowed to talk to them directly.”Dominic shrugged. “What?” he said. “Confidence is part of the uniform. I already have that one covered.” Lucía kept swiping.       “If they act like their job stereotypical description they probably aren’t queer, my love. I am so very sorry to disappoint you.” Dominic looked at her hand on his shoulder like it was legally binding him to emotional behaviour he hadn’t agreed to. “You can cry if you want to,” she added. “I might judge you, but I will also give you tissuepaper.” He stared at her for a second, then slowly pointed at himself.       “Me?” Dominic said. “Cry?” He looked back at the firefighters like the idea had personally offended him. “I’m literally queer,” he said flatly. “This is my natural habitat. Men in uniforms, questionable life choices, and public danger? That’s basically a community event.” Then, with complete seriousness: “I’m not crying. I’m vibing.” He nodded once, satisfied with that explanation. Lucía still kept swiping. Dominic followed her gaze briefly, then pointed lazily at one of the firefighters. “That one’s queer,” he said. “Statistically. I feel it in my bones.” He straightened slightly, like he’d just contributed something important to science. “Also,” he added, “if I’m wrong, don’t tell me. Let me live in my fantasy world where I’m correct about everything.” Lucía’s phone buzzed. It was Jun. She showed him. “You were planning to ditch me for Jun? So, so rude.” Dominic read the message on her screen like it was a mildly interesting side note in a conversation he hadn’t agreed to be emotionally involved in. He read it once. Then again. Slower the second time, like Jun’s enthusiasm might reorganise itself into something less chaotic if given enough patience.       “Heading to my room with some champagne,” he repeated under his breath.       “Dom and Sun are joining too.” His eyes flicked briefly toward Lucía, then back to the message.       “Why not bring your weed and that pretty face of yours?” Silence. Not heavy. Just… the brief suspension of judgement before it settles into something dry. Dominic exhaled through his nose. “Right,” he said. “Jun is hosting a gathering like it’s a curated emotional experiment with snacks.” He handed the phone back to her without ceremony, already half-elsewhere in his head.       “And he’s not inviting you,” he added, casually, “he’s announcing that you’re already part of the plan and just haven’t arrived yet. Which is very on brand for him.” His eyes drifted back to the firefighters like nothing had changed in the universe. Lucía’s earlier words still hung in the air—half teasing, half accusation, all her.       “You’re not being ditched,” he said. “You’re being summoned. There’s a difference. Mostly legal, sometimes emotional.” He paused. Then, like it was the least dramatic conclusion possible: “And apparently I’m going too. Which is fine. I’ve been worse places than Jun’s room with champagne and questionable decision-making.”       “Anyway,” he added, calmer again, “Jun and Sun are still over there. Let’s go before you decide the firefighters need emotional support interviews as well.” He paused just long enough to look at her properly. “And Lucía?” His eyes found hers. “If you faint,” he said, “I’m not carrying you. I’m not getting emotionally involved in physics today.” He started walking then, hands in his pockets, already drifting out of the grass field’s orbit. Then, like it was the most normal conclusion in the world, he nodded toward the field. “So. Champagne,” Dominic said. “Before you start emotionally profiling emergency services personnel again and I get dragged into it legally.” He glanced back once. “Next time,” he said, “I’m making the selection. Yours is statistically exhausting.” To Jun: ten minutes is optimistic but sure don’t start anything messy without me

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"It sounds weird to say this, but I'm really glad I hit you with my moped"

Julian “Jules” Vane Jules voelde Dakota’s ogen bijna door zijn gezicht heen prikken. “Ik vind je verdacht kalm” Hij keek opzij en zag dat ze glimlachte. Je moest eens weten, dacht hij en hij gaf een klein glimlachje terug. “Ik had gedacht dat je niet zou opgedaagd zijn, nadat je ontdekte dat je locker geforceerd was. Wacht, je locker was ook geforceerd, toch?” Jules schudde langzaam zijn hoofd bij de vraag. “Nee, geen braakspoor, niets.” Hij fronste even. Had hij het überhaupt benoemd dat zijn locker niet geforceerd was, of was het nu wel logisch, gezien hij Dakota’s locker wilde bekijken? Anyhow… hij moest er zelf nog steeds achter zien te komen wie zijn locker heeft kunnen openen zonder hem te forceren… Hij zag Dakota’s ademhaling iets versnellen en merkte hierdoor dat ze iets minder op haar gemak was. “Ik begrijp er niets van. Maar je hebt gelijk, het beste wat we nu kunnen doen is m’n locker onderzoeken.” fluisterde ze en Jules knikte. Even was het stil en Jules begon in zijn gedachten weg te dwalen. Toch schrok hij zich lam toen Dakota’s hand plots de lucht in ging en ze haar andere hand voor haar mond deed. Voor hij kon vragen of alles goed was, sprak Dakota de leekracht aan: “Sorry dat ik stoor meneer, ik voel me niet zo goed, zou ik even naar buiten kunnen gaan?” Pas toen ze hem met een schuin oog aankeek, begreep hij wat ze van hem wilde. “Juist, ja. Vrouwen problemen en zo.” Zei hij er achteraan, sprak een stille “sorry” naar Dakota uit, omdat hij geen betere smoes kon bedenken, pakte haar hand die ze had opgestoken uit de lucht en trok haar, en beide tassen, de ruimte uit. Pas toen de deur dicht was liet hij haar hand los en gaf haar de tas terug. “Sorry nogmaals,” lachte hij zachtjes en haalde ongemakkelijk een hand door zijn haar. “Ik ben niet altijd even goed in improviseren,” gaf hij eerlijk toe en keek om zich heen. Zijn blik viel op Leone en Cairo, die een paar meter van hun vandaan stonden. Hij bekeek beiden, zijn blik net iets langer op Cairo gericht, en draaide zijn hoofd snel weer naar Dakota. “Laten we gaan,” zei hij vastbesloten en voordat Dakota de kans had nog iets te zeggen, trok hij haar losjes mee aan haar pols, zodat hij haar geen pijn zou doen.

[ bericht aangepast op 5 mei 2026 - 18:33 ]

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Ich liebe dich 27.12.23