`♔ fairytaled | official roleplay thread `♔

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advanced mathamatics // fiona

song // stuck in my ways // jakob

⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅⋆* :coffee: ˚⁺⑅

Fiona giggled as he chuckled, which was reassuring to Beckett, at least he knew she didn’t dislike him. She still managed to smile at Beckett as she spoke, catching onto his obvious confusion from earlier statement. Beckett flushed a little, was he that obvious? Yes, he was an open book and let his emotions show plainly upon his face as well. “It’s ok,” Beckett rubbed the back of his neck. “I get the general idea, I’m just your everyday commoner anyways I’m not used to the aristocrat speech.” Beckett grinned before adding, “I agree, spicy cheese fries are amazing. Especially when they’re fresh.” Beckett’s mouth nearly watered at the thought, he had only had coffee this morning after all. That was not a suitable meal for anyone, as pained as Beckett would be to admit it.

“Well, I mean if it isn’t too daunting for you.” Beckett’s voice dropped to conspiratorial whisper. “You could always break the dress code if you want.” Beckett’s eyes glimmered with a spark of mischief. “Either way, we always get Fridays to wear whatever we want, I would love to see your fashions if you don’t mind.” Beckett listened quietly as he explained her story’s origin and he noticed Fiona lost some of her smile from their early conversations. He nodded sympathetically before reassuring her, “Of course… No one’s as mean as the stories say. Either they’re worse… or they’re nicer. Besides, it’s not the losers who write the stories.” Beckett raised an eyebrow at the mention of her “shortcomings”. “What ‘shortcomings’ are those?”

Fiona’s eyes widened in excitement and Beckett was pleased to see someone else who entertained his French pride. “Oui, OUI je parle français.” His accent was perfect as he was native and he smiled as she continued to speak. “Yes, I speak French as my native language. I speak English because the entire world is going English,” he waved his hand dismissively. “Ugly language if you ask me, but your advisor is indeed correct.” Fiona was kind as his excitement bubbled over from the idea of ballet. “Wow,” Beckett gasped, impressed. “Imagine, I’m less graceful than a rug.” He shrugged slightly, he didn’t mind it though. “That’s good though, to learn grace and practice.”

Fiona murmured something to herself, almost as if sulking back into memories. Beckett was familiar with ruined feet and broken bodies from ballet dancers, he head of it often. Perhaps Fiona had experienced that…? “Yes, it does.” Beckett affirmed, offering a smile to Fiona.

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orp >> @Secreterz Yesss we are seiso idols once more :3


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gardens // Ailbhe

song //moral of the story // ashe

࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔*:・゚࿐

Valencia noticed the anger that zipped through the girl, faster than lightning. The girl had schooled her face back into a small smile before turning her attention to Valencia. As the girl lifted her hands, Valencia noticed the white, dead grass under them. They must’ve been the child of a destructive fairytale character then… “Meh, I don’t really care. The grass’ll live…or it won’t” She had brushed off Valencia’s warning as she tugged back on her own gloves. Valencia didn’t recognize the accent that lined the girl’s words, it was definitely foreign, however. “I’m Ailbhe”. Valencia didn’t want to shake hands, she was already wary of the girl who had let anger break through her features already. Not scared, she had lived in Xibalba for most of her life, she was just wary. Still, throughout it she kept her face perfectly neutral, she was Valencia del Reyes. Bravery of the Kings. She didn’t need to fear. “I’m Valencia,” she reached out her own hands. Her hands managed to be dainty yet with small callouses on them still. She shook the pale girl’s hand, admiring her white hair for a moment before asking. “Is this your first year here?” She asked as she retracted her hand, letting it fall to her side.

࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔:・゚࿐ ࿔*:・゚࿐

orp >>> @Acorn06 Better a grass than a person </3


:sunny:

math class // ivan

song // start a war // klergy

❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞

Ivan leaned closer until his head rested on Aidene’s shoulder before he repeated her obviously, sarcastically. She didn’t move her shoulder though and just let him look, although she glanced towards him before turning to her pens. She noticed his eyes narrow and she half-smiled as she realized he was trying to understand her chaotic organizing. He lifted his head from his shoulder and pulled out a black pen, black mechanical pencil and a black click-clack eraser from his bag before asking. “So where would these belong in your…organization?” Aidene took the supplies from his hand, her own bushing against his and added them to her line-up, with the black pen at the very beginning of it, the black mechanical pencil in the middle and the black clickclack eraser at the end. If it were a normal organization where they were lined in color, the black supplies would’ve ruined the entire scheme. However, It fit right into the chaotic organization. “They would be… there.” Aidene answered after a pause, nodding and looking at Ivan. “Wow, not complimenting you again.” Ivan joked as he rubbed his forehead and Aidene. “These compliments come from your own choices, they’re particularly bad ones too.” Aidene pointed out, teasing him slightly. “L-O-V-E.” He spelled out, leaning forward. “T-O-L-E-R-A-T-E.” Aidene countered, leaning forward herself, her eyes meeting his. He thought for a moment before giving her a problem. “Four divided by 6. Aidene frowned, that was a simple question, it ended in a repeating decimal of course. She had memorized her multiplication and division tables as a kid and still recalled them. It was silly question in her opinion, and for a moment she wondered if he was joking with her. Still, she wrote out the problem on paper with a simple rounded equal sign followed by the rounded answer. 4 ÷ 6 ≈ .667 She looked over towards Ivan before saying, “It’s a repeating decimal so it’d just be better to round to the nearest hundredth.” She drew a line under the problem to separate it from the rest of the page. “Anything else, something preferably challenging?”

orp >>> @ethereal- Ivan - HEHE I’m glad you like it. ANd I LOVE yur post omg <3

❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄ ❝ ☼ ❞

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