she fell in love in the first place

[triskeles]

	For the life of me, I cannot remember What made us think that we were wise And we'd never compromise For the life of me, I cannot believe We'd ever die for these sins We were merely freshmen

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In the Beginning

[necrobrat]

[Her chest felt tight. The backseat had become dramatically smaller after the crash, the frame of the car now bent and twisted and rendering much of the vehicle unrecognizable. She struggled against the seatbelt, trying to pull free so she could creep forward between the front seats, to see for herself that her parents were okay.

They weren't moving. It scared her.

She strained forward, reaching out with one hand and finally managing to brush her fingers against her mother's shoulder, catching on the fabric of her shirt and her dark hair. No response.]

Mama? Mama, wake up.

[She pushed herself again, stretching and making another grab, this time getting a firm enough hold to shake her mother by the shoulder. The only response was that her mother's head dropped forward, the seatbelt keeping her from falling any further, leaving Anita to struggle harder against her own belt as the soft hiccups that always preceded her hysterics began to surface.]

Mama, wake up!

[triskeles]

[ It hadn't been hard to miss the sound of the crash, while he was moving on patrol of the territory. Not when metal grinding against metal and pressing into wood had such a dramatic sound, even from a distance. Lifting his head, Derek flicks his ears in the direction of the country road from where he stands in the nature preserve. Something is wrong, and he can feel it deep in his bones. He doesn't know why, but it urges him quickly from his original purpose out in the trees and towards where he can smell blood and metal.

As he draws closer, he cocks his head back and howls-- the pack will hear him, they'll know that they're needed, someone with a phone will come quickly with the urgency in the call-- before he makes his way down cautiously.

There's a brief moment where he wishes that he hadn't shifted completely, but then as he passes the front of the car and sees the couple in the front seats, he realizes why it might be best that he's in his alpha form. Easing back to the backend of the car, he presses his ears back and lets out a soft chuff towards the little girl trapped there, red eyes scanning. ]

[necrobrat]

[The movement catches her attention before she's able to get a clear look at the wolf, the howl having escaped her notice in her desperation to get one of her parents to answer her. She pales when the animal itself comes into view, and suddenly her struggle is that much more frenzied, tears falling steadily now and punctuated by those persistent hiccups.]

Stay away!

First Week of School Sleepover

[frogthrower]

The routine is entirely all too familiar, as it has frequently happened ever since Anita and Elisabeth met. There was nothing more important in a girl's social calendar than sleepovers. Of course, that was after dances and dates with boys she fancies. This, however, is no ordinary sleepover. this is the first one of the school year, which means they still have the ability to get out any excess summertime fun and gossip while doing each other's nails. It was basically a tradition now. Elisabeth's mother even took the extra step to make sure there were plenty of snacks and delicious meals so everyone can have a joyous time.

Although it was planned, Elisabeth grabbed Anita by the arm as soon as class let out and led her to the car, already talking a mile a minute about everything she had planned for them. The drive from school to her home in more wealthy suburban area is uneventful. Loud music and singing along, nothing out of the ordinary.

Once she pulled into the garage at her house, she grabbed her bags and purse from the backseat and headed inside. "Mom has the new espresso machine, so we're going to check that out in five. Sound good?"

[necrobrat]

Anita grabbed her own backpack and purse from the back and slide out of the passenger's seat, shooting Elisabeth a grin over the top of the car. The annual First Week of School Sleepover was always easy on the luggage, since there wasn't much in the way of homework and therefore no books to bring home.

"Come on, have you ever known me to say 'no' to coffee in any form?" she asked, quickly following Lis into the house, finding herself in the kitchen once they came through the garage door. Lis' house was beyond familiar to her; it was essentially her second home, though this particular second home had a surrogate mother who, after all these years, still seemed to think that Anita was bilingual.

She was not.

"We'll need the espresso, anyway. There's no sleeping at sleepovers."

[frogthrower]

"No, which is why if you disagreed I would've had to splash you with holy water." Except she didn't have holy water; there was just bottled Perrier on a shelf nearby in the garage. She put her car keys on a hook on the all near the garage door. Shoes came off and her bags get haphazardly tossed aside for someone else to take care of later as she headed to the kitchen.

That someone else and later was her mother and only a couple moments. Elisabeth was capable of being self-sufficient but she was the only child left in the nest, so to speak, and that worked in her advantage in terms of her mother wanting to do things for her. Mrs Clements was overjoyed to see her daughter's best friend, and immediately went to hug her. "Oh, Anita! It has been ages, dah-ling. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Cómo está tu familia? Bueno, espero."

Elisabeth rolled her eyes at that while she started the espresso machine. She had told her mother before that Anita spoke perfectly good English, but Mrs Clements was horrifyingly embarrassing in the sense that she wanted to practise her Spanish with anyone who looked Latin@. That made last summer's trip to Venice rather awkward.

"Mom."

Warm Welcome

[chronicle]

[ The fact that the first thing to greet Cassie on the second Monday of the school year is a message, written in black Sharpie, on her locker does not surprise her in the least. The fact that it's headed by a bolded, giant F R E A K also does not surprise her. When word gets out that your mother has been "institutionalized" by the government due to "spouting nonsense about visions," you sort of come to adapt to the less than shining treatment of your peers.

Staring flatly at the graffiti, she flips open the top of her messenger bag and reaches in to pull out a washcloth and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Almost mechanically, she tips the bottle into the rag and wets it, staring at the attempt at a jab.

Thirteen years old, and she's less than fazed by it. ]

[wanttobenormal]

[It's luck, more than anything, that results in Sam walking past her locker just as she pulls the rubbing alcohol from her bag. The graffiti on the locker catches his attention -- it's hard to miss those bold letters -- and he literally backs up several steps to pause behind her, frowning.]

Hey. You need a hand with that?

Patrol and Family Night

[triskeles]

[ Since long before he ever took over as Beacon Hills' alpha, Derek has done patrols. He went on them with his father, and now he's going on them with his own pack, with his own family. He moves easy through the trees, despite his massive bulk, and follows the scents around him. The traffic of the deer and other wildlife surround him, his pack's activity everywhere-- human and wolf alike-- and the quiet decay of the forest there with it.

Two scents stand out the most to him, however, and it's no surprise-- mate and offspring are the most important things to a wolf, and he can pinpoint them with uncanny accuracy. How old the trails are, where they go, where he can find them.

He chooses one to follow, lumbering across familiar terrain and letting out a low, bark-like sound to call out to his daughter. ]

[necrobrat]

[She reacts to the call almost on instinct, turning on her heel to run towards it. She moves through the trees without difficulty, having spent many nights patrolling the area with her fathers and other members of the pack the past couple of years. She was human by definition, but she had become as good a tracker as someone without werewolf-senses could be expected to be, having carefully honed her powers of observation and taken a leaf out of her Aunt Allison's book, carrying a crossbow with her whenever she went out on patrol.

Of course, it never hurt to have a backup weapon. She kept a knife sheathed at her belt, as well -- just in case.

She slowed to a stop as she heard the soft footfalls of something lumbering towards her, pausing beside a particularly gnarled tree as she waited for Derek to reach her, holding her hand out to him as he approached.]

lol what is being prepared for class

[ajackettoobig]

Want to know what Dean didn't give two shits about? School. School sucked and he hated it. Sammy could go to all the classes he wanted to, whatever. But Dean would've preferred if his dad didn't enroll him in whatever school in whatever town they were going to be in for a short period of time.

If they were just driving through, there really wasn't a point. That wasn't the case this time, since he and Sam were supposed to stay here the entire semester. That didn't change Dean's motivation to do well in school at all.

That had been obvious most days, since he tended to fall asleep in class when he wasn't being a thorn in the teacher's side. Today wasn't a day he could just fall asleep during, though. It was a goddamn test day. Guess who hadn't studied? This guy. He knew he was going to bomb it, but whatever.

He'd at least put his name on the test. Speaking of- "Hey, do you got a pencil?" He asked, tapping the shoulder of the girl in front of him.

[necrobrat]

To be honest, Anita was a little surprised that he was going to stay awake during the test at all. They hadn't spoken directly yet, and she'd been very careful not to let him catch her looking at him during the first two weeks of school, though she wasn't exactly sure how successful she'd been. Even more surprising, however, was the fact that he was tapping her on the shoulder at all -- meaning it took an effort not to jump a foot out of her seat because she was startled before turning around to look over her shoulder.

"Sure," she managed fairly effortlessly, looking down just long enough to pull a spare out of the front pocket of her bag before turning in her seat to hand it to him. God, she hoped she wasn't blushing. How stupid would that have been? She was supposed to be better than that. She settled for smiling and mentally crossing her fingers in hopes that her cheeks wouldn't turn red and make her look like an idiot.

"Here. Keep it. You don't have any, right?" Seeing as he didn't carry a bag... or books, or anything at all.

so, like, I need 500 volunteer hours so people think I'm great

[seanoevil]

It was obvious that Genevieve Hudson didn't even go here. If it the cardigan and pleated skirt wasn't obvious enough, it was entering Beacon Hills High School after class had officially ended for the day and looking exceptionally lost. She hadn't ever been here before, but as an honor roll student who was striving to be valedictorian and aimed to get into an Ivy League school, she needed all the volunteer work she could get.

The guidance counselor at her posh private academy set her up with tutoring at the high school, but Genevieve hadn't a clue who or what she'd be tutoring. She just knew it would likely be an underclassman, and she was well equipped to help with any subject a freshman or sophomore would be taking. After all, the pressures at her school were much more intense than here.

After making inquiries at the main office, she found the empty classroom she'd be working in. She pushed two desks together and sat. And waited. This would only be an hour to two hours out of her afternoon and she'd still have time to get bubble tea with Jillian later. Yes good.

Gen no.

[chronicle]

The problem with living alone for so long, and no one knowing about it, was trying to keep it covered up for as long as possible. Cassie knew the risk she was running right now, but it made her harder to find, got her out of a system that could easily be tracked. And it meant that she didn't have to worry about trying to explain why a thirteen year old had alcohol in her possession, or why she had dizzy spells and the occasional blackout when she was struck but such a hard hitting vision.

But it also meant that she had to try and keep the school's scrutiny off her grades and behavior, so that they don't threaten the timeless classic of getting into contact with her parents or guardians. Which she is currently lacking.

So that means that she's going to need tutoring in a couple of her classes, because that'll satisfy them, right?

Right.

She enters the classroom she's been told to go to, pausing as she looks at the older girl that's already there. Of course they got some prep school... prep.

gen pls

[sixtypercent]

The thing about being new to Beacon Hills high school was that there were certain castes to find a place in. And at the top of these castes--hell, at the top of the school, was none other than Lydia Martin. What Lydia said, went, period. She knew everything, everyone, and anything that happened, at Beacon Hills--and some things didn't change in twenty years.

Currently, Lydia took up the position of chemistry teacher in charge, head of the science department, PTA mom, and everything else you could imagine. She was the Regina George of teachers, literally, and she was just as fierce with a red pen as Harris always had been.

She stops in the doorframe of the classroom and tosses a lock of her perfect strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, stepping inside. "Security doesn't typically take well with intruders, no matter how well dressed they are."

It's hard to tell if any of that was sincere, but she does smile. Gen, have you met the teacher you're working with yet?

son let me explain u a thing about r-e-s-p-e-c-t

[neverdanced]

Steve Rogers was a man who lived his life unnoticed in most circumstances. He was small but intelligent and had a list of maladies on par with his own stature. Maybe it made things lonely sometimes, but the twenty-five year old law student was used to it. The only time he was talented at making himself noticed was when he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

Like when one of his classmates said something rather offensive concerning the guest lecturer. Steve's automatic reaction was to tell the guy to shut his mouth. It was definitely a case of SSDD. Guy was rude, Steve told him off, guy asked if he wants to take this outside. Steve didn't hesitate and said yes. After getting a punch or two in, Steve proceeded to get his ass handed to him.

No regrets, ever.

Now he was sitting in the back of an alley, dabbing his coat sleeve against his busted lip. This only went slightly better than last time.

good man, rogers

[triskeles]

There was a time where the same could be said of Derek Hale. He was quiet in high school, if athletic and part of the sports community, of the pack. He was friendly, got along with most people even though he preferred close friends and his family over large crowds. There was even a time where he was only a dozen or so pounds heavier than the law school student slumped in the corner of an alley, before puberty had taken hold and he'd shut himself off from the world.

But the need to follow what was right had been so ingrained in him, it never quite left him even when he was doing all that he could to survive.

Following the scent of copper and mottled rust, Derek made his way down the alley and frowned at the sight that meets him. Part of him realized it was none of his business, but the other part that'd been tempered by years of being an alpha brought him closer, had him kneeling in front of the younger and smaller man.

He smelled the illness and weakness in him, but there was something about his injuries that told him it wasn't because of this that he was such a mess.

"Think you can stand?"

not a prom queen A KHALEESI

[motherof]

[ The simple matter of the fact is this--when most of your family dies, you often get relocated. Daenerys, a daughter of the Targaryens, a rich dynasty of old money, lost the majority of her family in a brutal disaster; although if you asked her, she wouldn't speak of it.

She and her older brother were shipped off to a tiny town in California with a man by the name of Ilyrio, and Daenerys was sent off to her first year of high school with a backpack over her shoulders and no friends, no contacts, no nothing.

She stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowds of the hallways, all ridiculously long, blonde hair, and when she slips up to her locker, she spends several minutes trying to understand the lock--and getting very, very obviously frustrated, when it wasn't working. ]

THE GREAT KHALEESI.

[bastardson]

[ Jon knows what it's like to stand out in the crowds-- not just because of the large "dog" that walks alongside him and sits with him in classes, not just the fact that everyone around him knows about the status of his birth-- and knows exactly how it feels to be the new student in a sea of preestablished relationships and ranks. After having been sent away to a private school for so long, to appease Catelyn when she was at a place that had her so embittered towards him, coming back to public school in the last year...

Well, he knows.

So when he sees Daenerys, catching a flash of white that isn't Ghost out of the corner of his eye, he turns and looks across the hall from his own locker. Watching her try to figure out the lock, he debates before he closes the door and snaps his lock back into place, shouldering his bag and slowly making his way over. ]

Tricky, aren't they?

team PTA cops go

[hypercompetent]

[ One of the best things about Beacon Hills is that when you take away the supernaturally terrifying parts of life, it is a pretty sleepy town. When there are fewer supernatural occurances, there's less to do in the sheriff's department.

Which is why you'll find Sheriff Stilinski poking his head into his boss' office with a big grin on his face, a bag of fast food for them both to share, and waves his cellphone into her office. ]

I'm gonna be that guy right now. Are you busy? [ 8D ] Because I have prom pictures and they're awesome.

[cursebreaking]

[Emma looks up from the paperwork she'd been sifting through while standing over her desk, raising both eyebrows. Well, there was something to be said for a boss that fed you -- and she and the Sheriff got along in general, anyway. Their kids were around the same age and they had similar senses of humor. Banter came easily to them.

She smiled wryly, setting her work down.]

I could quickly arrange not being busy. It's nothing that can't wait forty-five minutes, anyway. Not a lot going on around here lately.

[Or ever.]

This might be the first time I've ever seen a guy so excited about prom pictures.

Happy Hour

[lightgunhustler]

[Saturdays were usually busy at Harvelle's, seeing business from all of the upstanding folks that were too busy working nine to five during the week to come by, but there was a stretch in the late afternoon that was always quiet, after the lunch and daytime crowd filtered out and before the evening regulars began to trickle in.

Usually, Jo took advantage of it being quiet and managed to take care of all her clean up in record time -- something that had been achieved with ease today. And, just as she had taken to doing every Saturday afternoon, she began to look towards the door at regular intervals as she went around straightening chairs, wiping down tables and picking up stray bottles.

She usually saw him a few times during the week, but he was there on Saturdays like clockwork, and once he came through the door, she would be behind the bar and ready to pull up his favorite, unless he had other requests. So far, he never did.]

[andprotect]

[ Perhaps something could be said of a man who spent a majority of his time off in a bar and grill. These things usually lean on the negative side, but Deputy Graham Humbert is nothing if not a fairly upstanding citizen. The fact of the matter is, he's a man that's married to his work until he reaches a certain hour of the day, and then he's either working at the animal shelter, whisked away by an endearingly overeager sheriff and his fellow officers to spend time with them, or he's...

Well, at the Harvelle's.

Which isn't a bad thing, necessarily. There's almost always good company there, and if anything there is a bright young face always there to greet him. Even fresh out of the academy and a new officer working the circuit of Beacon Hills, he remembers a high schooler with blonde hair and sharp eyes working for her mother and being underestimated by those that didn't know better.

Jo Harvelle was a force in her own right.

Holding open the door for a couple exiting, he offers them a friendly smile in parting before he steps in, shrugging out of his jacket and folding it over his arm as he calmly makes his way towards his usual spot at the bar. ]

I don't wanna say it's a furry party, but...

[seanoevil]

Anita and Gen didn't often see each other. They went do different schools and had different social groups entirely. Despite that, Gen loved spending time with her cousin. It was typically reserved for when Gen couldn't be with her other friends for one reason or another. Sometimes it was because Jillian had plans that for some horrible reason couldn't involve Gen. It was the worst thing ever, especially considering they were attached at the hip.

But usually, it was because of pack obligations that Gen couldn't get out of. Or rather, when the full moon was approaching, Gen never wanted to chance being around her 'normal' friends when her lycanthropy was likely to be more of an issue. She didn't think her friends would think any differently of her, but still didn't want them to know at all.

In any case, it was the weekend and a day before the full moon and Gen was bunking at the alpha's house until Sunday night. Currently, she was sitting on the floor, leaning against Anita's bad with a bag of apple chips. "How are you enjoying the school year so far?"

But it's a furry party.

[necrobrat]

The fact that they didn't have the opportunity to see each other often just meant that they were more inclined to make the most of it when they did. Of course, pack obligations applied to both of them. She may have been human, but Anita was there every full moon, same as the rest of them. Much like her father, being human didn't make her any less one of them. It was a nice sense of belonging. Comfortable. Safe.

Anita sat opposite her, propped up against the wall with a pillow behind her and having opted for something less healthy in chocolate-covered pretzels. "It's alright so far. A few of my classes are pretty interesting." Gen understood Anita's actual interest in class material, where Lis did not.

"Which is promising. The student body hasn't changed much, but I've yet to have my locker defaced. We're only three weeks in, though, so that could change. Also, I have a pretty bum lab partner, but he's nice to look at. Mixed bag. I thought you would appreciate that. Lis doesn't seem to think the first past matters." She smirked. "It doesn't, much. It's not like I need the help. At least he writes his own name on his copy of the reports. How's your year looking so far? You and Jillian already taking the school by storm in the absence of your former upperclassmen?"