CURSED│open to all rp levels discussion

the first area you walk into when entering the venue and where coats can be dropped off to hide.

Reka entered the building holding tight the puffy jacket she wore to keep her warm. The jacket fell up the her waist leaving the off the shoulder look up top hidden. Link had gone and picked her up from her house. Her parents had luckily fallen asleep earlier so when he went to pick up her, her home was dark. Only the shine from the dress was visible. She smiled as she entered the orange car once more.

Now inside she shrugged off the coat, revealing the minimal detail above. Reka said a soft thanks as she handed the coat to the clerk. Then self consciously adjusted her hair away from her face. She had kept it up leaving a few curls tickle her neck and cheek. Her mother had discovered the smile that was still on her face the next morning after her lunch with Link and long night shift from Louie. Something was in her daughter’s mind, and next thing Reka knew a dress hung from her closet with a note that said: have fun. It filled her with a pained happiness to be able to go to a ball while her mother still locked herself in the room.

The dress wasn’t exactly made for winter balls, the slit allowed the chilly wind enter and the off the shoulder look, was beautiful but had to be covered up with the jacket to avoid getting goosebumps from the weather. She looked over at Link, she hadn’t been able to fully see his outfit due to the lack of light in the car. Only the button lights that barely shone bright. He looked handsome, the suit was made perfect to his body. And he himself looked like a runaway model. “So Cinderella goes to the ball” she announced with a nervous laugh as she turned towards him. Her lips flashed a grin. “Thanks for picking me up again” she said, not sure whether she had said it over three times already.

When Link had pulled into the drive of the address that Reka had provided, he thought no one was home. The house seemed completely dark and lifeless especially in the dark. But she came out and he drove them here. The ride to the ball was mostly quiet as he focused on the rode but also trying to keep warm since the chill of the wind butting at him through the suit when he walked out to knock on the door and then open the passenger door for his date.

After arriving he left his car to valet to be parked. He entered the lobby a moment after her. Like she, Lincoln had no clue what exactly Reka's dress looked like. He had seen the slit, especially in the car ride over. She had just shrugged off her coat when he came in so he only got the view from the back. He was surprised with how good she looked in it, from only the back of the dress. His own suit was a three piece blue suit. He also wore a pale blue button up and dark blue pinstriped tie. He was a vision for the color blue but it seemed to work on him. "Lovely," he muttered to himself and walked over.

"I wouldn't think you to be somewhat close to being Cinderella." Lincoln had seen a lot of people and Reka didn't remind him of the fairytale princess at all. Yes she worked and seemed to work hard but he didn't think she was technically being enslaved but he didn't know her family. "You thought I would let a lady drive herself," he said as a hand went over his heart. He was jesting with her once more. Thought, he didn't know how long that would last considering he hadn't had any of his wolfsbane since the morning and the effects were fading.

Reka pulled her short train of her dress next to her, it fortunately wasn’t something dangerous long for someone to step on, but apparently enough for her to trip upon. As such she took all precautions to avoid that disaster. Angling her body to Link, she move down the sleeves that with the jacket had changed to a different position. The dress was tight on her waist but loosened by the hips so she didn’t feel her body too overexposed. But what she did adore about the dress was the front which followed the pattern of her over-shouldered short sleeves, it was hooked in three pieces, like a drape you’d see at the cinemas. Reka felt like old Hollywood scarlet with the dress.

She reached towards Link’s shoulder, then picked out an invisible piece of link. Reka smirked at his Cinderella comment, keeping her eyes on the shoulder she had just touched. “If I don’t lose my shoe or turn into a mouse by midnight, you win” She might, as a party trick turn into a white mouse and dart past Link, itching to see the expression on his face. Being a skin walker wasn’t exactly a secret she kept to herself. She knew her paternal side of the family did, siding with those humans that were against all those supernatural creatures that roamed around Warwick. Reka didn’t, tending towards use her abilities if she wanted to.

“I think you might make a lady wait” she teased back, tapping her foot impatiently. “Are you, Link?” She raised an eyebrow with a smug grin on her face. On the ride over to the ball, she hadn’t smelled the wolfsbane as potent as she had the last time she was in his car. Reka thought she had been paranoid the last time. Maybe it was a person that brushed past her and left the smell of the herb on her person, then just blamed Link. She didn’t once think that it was because he had taken it earlier and then smell had mixed with the air and other.

Link looked at her with a cocked brow. "Really?" he asked as he walked over to her. His hand going to move on of the loose strands of hair. His finger lightly grazing her cheek. "And want do I get if I win?" he asked as a sly smirk appeared and he took a step back from her. He was letting that tension grow and simmer for now. "Besides a mouse is prey, are you my prey?" Hungry eyes scanned over her once more. The look was like a hungry wolf stalking his next meal with his eyes.

"What?" he asked fiending hurt. He then reach out his arm for her to take and lead her through the castle. Though Link hadn't had a hit in awhile he was still calm for the moment. He knew though, that soon he would have to sneak away for his needed smoke. His addiction hopefully won't ruin the ball for Reka as it did look like he was smoking pot all the time instead of wolfsbane. He doubted that she would of understood why he needed to smoke it. He knew there where other like him, he could usually smell them if it wasn't for the wolfsbane but he never questioned them. "Shall we go on then?"

“What ar-“ Reka eyed the hand that was going towards her, but didn’t move away. She felt her eyes close as the strands were brushed by his fingers, tickling her neck. They always played with the attraction they had with one another. Though he knew more how to get her heart racing. Inadvertently, her cheek gravitated towards his hand but was pulled back to its centre when he moved away. “Who says you’re going to win?” She pouted as she crossed her arms. “Mustn’t get so cocky…just yet” Reka murmured with a knowing smirk. Her eyes lit up by catching the hunger in his. This reached her beasts that stirred in her. Reka bit her lip to control the growl they wanted to echo. It would definitely be a night she would have to steady herself around Link.

“I’d say your challenge” she corrected. Reka wouldn’t let herself be caught. She would be smarter than a mouse. But at the same time she wanted to see where her becoming a prey would lead to. No, Reka wasn’t going to be prey. She always shifted to a predator during transformations for the sake of being strong, tactical. That’s why there were the top of the food chain. Tonight she felt a difference in Link.Nonetheless she took his arm feeling the suit’s fabric and beneath the muscles she once saw. Reka decided to focus on the castle she was being led through.

“Off we go” she said, her free hand clutching to control the jitters she felt. Reka had noticed other girls, their dresses and how elegant they moved. She wasn’t worried about her dress. It was gorgeous but maybe it was how she made up herself. The makeup she wore was simple, only using eye products to bring out her eyes and light shine gloss on her lips. As they walked away from the front door she could start hearing the music and voices from around the castle. Her head moved to the sounds and her nose smelt the different perfumes that were wore. She watched a waiter strolling around with a tray of welcome drinks. Champagne, soft drinks. She reached out to the glass of champagne. Reka wanted to experience everything tonight.

If he regretted following his brother and friends to the ball, it was too late for Danny to back out now. He was there, suit and tie and everything, his hands on his pockets as to avoid fixing his hair one more time. Massive social events like this one weren't exactly Danny's specialty, this was more of a Jamie thing, but his brother did have a point when he said this was a once a year thing, that there were so many people nobody would even notice them really, and that the food was going to be amazing. Danny wasn't a drinker like many of Jamie's friends, but he could smell the dessert bar from the lobby, and he was ready for it.

Jamie and Danny hadn't really talked about the "argument" they had, but enough time had passed that Jamie wasn't being rude or snappy at Danny, and he thought that the invitation to the ball basically cemented the truce between them. Danny didn't want to argue anymore, but at some point the college conversation would come again, and they would have to have it out.

But for now, the music was loud and the party was just starting.

((@iggy time move to the ballroom or bar?))

devotion

Ren was a damn mess. Ever since Salem had shut her car door and waved at him with that small sad smile on her lips like he had done something wrong, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. The grocery store had almost felt like a figment of his imagination, conjured in his delusional head from the stress and lack of sleep he was getting. It had been nothing. And yet, it was still something. Salem was different than any other girl he’d met, and that scared him. All week he’d dodged her text about Liz and something about a ball replying with just hardly enough to answer her questions, nothing more. He’d thought he could put it behind him. The only thing he could see when he closed his eyes were her blonde locks, her laughter, her and Sam picking apples.

God, he was losing his mind. Hours at the cafe were long and bleak, coaching late soccer games made him want to put himself out of his misery. That damned dance was coming up, and so many times did his thumb hover over Salem’s name in his phone while he contemplated withdrawing his agreement to go. What the fuck had he been thinking? Liz would be there, what was a bigger middle finger than taking her best friend to the city soiree? On a date?

As much as this weighed on his conscience, he never made that call.

He didn’t even go out looking at clothes- since most of his wardrobe was either soccer-related or subpar basic- until just hours before the damn thing. After checking with Salem the day before if she still wanted him to come, he’d been on the fence. As of this morning, he had settled on ghosting Salem, no explanations, no excuses, no bullshit. Anxiety consumed him all afternoon while he binged some Netflix series and folded his siblings’s laundry, until he found himself snatching his keys off the counter and driving against his better judgement to the mall. He’d found an ASOS short sleeve silky, short-sleeved black collared shirt with a floral pattern after he decided a tux would be too over-the-top. By then it was nearly six- an hour before the party.

He had jitters. Lorenzo Calderon was nervous. The whole time he smoothed gel through his wet unkempt hair and tried fastening the buttons on his shirt, he couldn’t stop the nerves from rattling his brains. Would she like what he’d chose? Was it good enough? He’d settled for his darkest black jeans and a suede black chelsea boot he dusted off from an aunt’s wedding two years ago; for some reason, he felt compelled to spritz cologne on his neck and wrist, leaving him puzzled as to why the fuck he cared so much what he looked like tonight. It was just about seven when he’d managed to leave the house after popping into the den to tell his parents he was off.

He hadn’t planned for the amount of traffic that night, and his attempts at taking a detour-shortcut put him fifteen minutes behind. By the time Ren had parked out in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere (an empty adjacent dirt lot the city used for overflow parking) because of the lack of spaces left, he was jogging in the crisp evening air towards the warm lights and pulsing music with a panicky feeling caught in his throat. Had he thought to call her? Absolutely not; would she be there, waiting in the lobby like her text said, half an hour ago? Unlikely.

Guilt pooled in his stomach as he strode up the steps weaving between fancily dressed guests he was so fucking underdressed and nodded at the bouncers, becoming swallowed into the crowd that spilled out into the lobby. There she was; true to her word, Salem Penderghast had somehow lodged herself into the corner amidst all the bodies, looking shrunken and lost in a sea of people she didn’t know. Ignoring the elbow of a passing teenager that caught his side, or the girl that stepped on his shoe in her pointy stilettos, Ren slowly swam to her gnawing the inside of his cheek. She was going to be fucking pissed. He probably could have called at least, sent her a text…

“Hey, you,” Renny exhaled and shoved his hands deep into his back pockets, stopping just in front of her. In a two piece bright pink pantsuit that hugged her body, Ren was thoroughly impressed and underdressed. Would he admit aloud that his little sister’s friend looked fucking good? “Uh, you look... you look nice,” he finished awkwardly with a curt affirming nod, tense as he suddenly became interested in the color of his shoes, avoiding what he was sure would be her disappointed eyes raking over his disappointing outfit. Before she could say anything, Ren spit up an apology that didn’t nearly do it justice, for the sake of clearing the air. “Sorry for being late, I just- I didn’t keep track of time, so there’s that,” Lorenzo peered over at her through a strand of hair that had fallen into his face. Liar.

It had been 6 days, 17 hours and 35 minutes since she’s last heard from Lorenzo. She’d know because every morning Salem roll over to check her phone to no avail — he simply wasn’t going to text her back. The only breakthrough was a confirmation of whether or not they were even still going which was as alarming as saying he didn’t want to go at all. Her texts thankfully did not reflect how much she was panicking when she re-read over and over again what Lorenzo said (thank god for technology) and she tried to remain as coy and cynical as possible, for she read in a Buzzfeed article once that boys liked when a girl plays hard to get — Salem isn’t too sure how good she is at playing that role, but at least she isn’t attacking him with double messages which should be a plus, right?

Every single thought has revolved around him for the entire week of school that she had, instead of listening to the soliloquies of Shakespeare, Salem would stare blankly at the chalkboard, chewed up mechanical pencil dangling from her mouth as she pictured him picking her up as the last bell rang and driving off into the sunset totally free from unsupportive sisters and social constraints where he would stop the car to turn around, grab her by her chin and k-

Ok, let’s just stop it right there. She’s definitely getting ahead of herself at this point. The time for the ball was steadily arriving and she had nothing to wear and no idea how she would do her hair or makeup.

On the morning of big day (very last minute, she’s aware) Salem’s bedroom floor was littered with Teen Vogue magazines with certain pages torn out for inspiration and a pool of clothes that could literally touch the ceiling if she continued to throw more items out of her closet. In the bathroom a makeup tutorial was blasting from her laptop, though she was completely ignoring it due to the fact that she was completely submerged in her closet, frantically digging like an archeologist searching for fossils. It was very hypocritical of her to expect him to go out and buy something when she hasn’t left her apartment building in days. She had just assumed she already had the perfect outfit stored away in her bedroom but everything was either too sparkly, too boring, or just plain old ugly. She even asked Balthazar for his opinion even though he was most indifferent to it all, which I mean is understandable — he is a cat after all.

At last she discovered a pink off the shoulder jumpsuit with the tag still attached. When did she even buy this? Ah, it doesn’t matter this is good enough. At this time it was around 4:30. So realistically she only had time to do hair and makeup and dash out the door. Which is precisely what she did. And thankfully she arrived on time. Entering the lobby she breathed a sigh of relief as she wasn’t too late. Lorenzo should be coming soon

But he didn’t come right away. What should she do now? Should she wait?

At first Salem stood. Then sat down. Then stood again, tapping the back of her heel anxiously, but resorted back to plopping back into the chair. She crossed her legs. Then uncrossed them. Then she checked the time on her phone. After seeing no new notifications she turned it off, then she turned it back on, then she disappeared to the bar for a bit, was disappointed by the bartenders refusal to give her some alcohol and sulked back to her seat — which was now taken by some girl in a purple bodycon dress.

Well great, now she has to stand. Again. The whole time her mind was buzzing with possibilities. At this point it was 30 minutes into the night, without a single call or text from the brooding man. Did he get into an accident? Was he ever planning on showing up? Was this all an elaborate plot between Elizabeth and Lorenzo to lure her to the ball just to be stood up and humiliat-

Then she heard a voice. A voice that was familiar, too familiar. Lorenzo’s voice. In a split second like turning off a switch all her antsy, paranoid fears melted and where replaced with ravenous butterflies when she finally saw him standing in front of her (looking quite hot, but Salem always thinks he’s hot). To be completely honest, she wasn’t truly paying attention to whatever was coming out of Lorenzo’s mouth. She was completely starstruck at this point, eyes gazing over every detail of his outfit and face. Shit this boy cleans up nice. Forcing back a nervous cough back down her throat she let a playful smile dance on her lips crossing her arms defiantly. “Look who decided to show up. I was so sure you pulled a Cinderella on me just then, Calderon.”

He didn’t know Salem as well as he thought he did; rather than ripping him a new one for being half an hour late, Salem merely smiled at him in a coquettish manner as if he hadn’t just been the shadiest son of a bitch this past week. Ren seemed to be off the hook, this time, but it didn’t mean that all of his guilt had been absolved by her seemingly chill attitude about the whole thing. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal. Maybe she just got here. Inhaling through his teeth with a shy grimace, Ren tangled his fingers in his curly brown hair that was still damp from his last-minute shower.“I’ll make it up to you tonight.” And fucking how did he plan on doing so? The words had escaped his big mouth before he had time to retract them, flustering him further so he was shifting his weight on his feet again with swears silently under his breath.

“I’m not usually late to things, you know I’m good for it,” he defended, knowing full well that she knew he was the early type, like when he showed up at her apartment fifteen minutes before he was supposed to pick her up so he could drop her and Liz off at the mall. Didn’t matter if it were classes, work, or practice, Ren could be expected well ahead of schedule. That varied depending on which kid he had in tow, but even still, it wasn’t like him to be so scattered scrambling to get somewhere.

“Well, I guess we better go inside, dance and stuff? After you,” he gestured with the nod of his head slightly bemused at just how many people were coming through the place. Lorenzo eyed the throngs of NYE partiers, several of them with dollar-store accessories around their necks or on their heads. He hoped she didn’t expect that much of him, because he sure as hell wasn’t interested in looking like a fucking fool in plastic glasses with “Happy New Years” circling the rims. With Salem’s significantly smaller frame in the lead, Ren shuffled closely after her careful to mind that he didn’t step on her heels. At the narrow mouth of the entrance where people were bottling up, he pressed a hand lightly against her lower back, hardly thinking much of it until Salem tossed a glance back at him over her shoulder.

He might have blushed about it and apologized, said something about he didn’t want to lose her in the crowd, but a particularly rowdy group of buzzed college kids surged past them and into the main ballroom nearly knocking Salem off her tiny high heels. “Hey- watch it-!” Ren snapped defensively after them, his warm calloused hand catching Salem’s waist to steady her and keep her from falling into the threshold. And there it remained, until they were spat on the other side and he realized where his hand was. “Are you okay? It’s a fucking shit show in here,” he had to lean close to her and shout over the commotion of the ballroom once they squeezed out of the lobby in one piece. Dizzying lights flashed in the vast ballroom, several already dancing or chatting with drinks in hand. He didn’t know how he was supposed to enjoy this thing if he couldn’t even hear himself talk, but he knew better than to bitch and whine. Just one night.

(view spoiler)[ ok wait what tht was so fucking fast (hide spoiler)]

(view spoiler)[ you may call me speedy gonzales (hide spoiler)]

Salem watched his stuttering mess of an explanation with amusement written clearly across her face. It was odd to see him flustered like this, maybe it was all a result of her subsequently forcing him out of his shell and throwing him into a new environment that was foreign to him. The way his ears turned pink as a result of her staring was too adorable, and the way he shuffled awkwardly was enough for Salem to forgive him for having her look pretty stupid standing alone in a room full of partnered up people. But as uncomfortable as he was she didn’t not waste the opportunity to embarrass him even more. Sighing dramatically she looked at him once again and rolled her eyes. “Jesus, it’s always excuses and apologizes with you isn’t it?” Raising an eyebrow at his other comment about making it all up to her Salem didn’t reply and instead turned away from him making her way to the dance floor, knowing he would be following after her.

The humidity in the second room alone was almost enough to cause Salem’s recently straightened hair to revert back to its ugly and slightly heat damaged natural state. It was hard to breathe in there, and the smell of the smoke machine that threw up a constant stream of thick mist and the flashing lights that changed patterns and speeds at a blindingly fast rate was almost enough to make Salem nauseous, but she was kind of enjoying it oddly enough. The DJ was pumping out track after track of fist pumping EDM and attendees were just eating the whole experience up. Well, except for Lorenzo. His sour expression could tell her that much. Glancing at his expression she laughed “Oh my god, lighten up!” She chided, smacking him on the side of his arm playfully. Salem turned again and led them further through the ball.

On any good day, Salem would say she could walk perfectly fine in heels. But today was different. For some reason, the ground felt slippery, her knees wobbled and Salem teetered like a newborn baby deer more than ever today, like the ballroom was a rolling rink (the spilled drinks did not help in the slightest). How embarrassing. And it seemed like Lorenzo had noticed for his hand slipped to her waist, right in-between her jumpsuit where her skin was exposed. And this time his hand stayed there, keeping her balanced and walking straight. His touch alone was enough to make her legs feel like jello. She didn’t even notice the other guys brushing past her, only focusing on his voice as he called back at them angrily — defending her honor yet again. But as a friend of course. She’s learned her lesson not to be hopeful the first time.

In the back of her mind she was thinking about Elizabeth. She hasn’t seen her in over a week now, before she wasn’t too worried but now knowing that there was a more than 97% chance she would see her made her even more nervous and slightly guilty. I mean, how would she react seeing Salem all buddy buddy with the person she just recently screamed at. Odds are she wouldn’t be too happy. Admittedly Salem wouldn’t be too please either if the roles were reversed. That’s why it was imperative that she didn’t get caught. She’d would have to give Liz a little bit more time before coming clean about the whole “going-to-the-ball-with-your-brother” thing. It would be only right.

The Are you okay? made her snap out of her abyss of paranoid thinking as she turned her head to look at him, concern written on his face. “Hmm? Oh no i’m totally fine,” this time she was telling the truth “But the real question is are you okay?”

(view spoiler)[ just want to make sure, Salem and liz hasn’t seen each other since the fight? Have they spoken? Not sure what we’re doing here. Also, I’m moving her with her date to the dance floor. (hide spoiler)]

Salem was being uncharacteristically sassy tonight, but that wasn’t to say that he didn’t deserve it. She always seemed like this quiet, reserved type whenever she came to hang out with Liz, but maybe this was just the side of her he was getting to experience now that he was actually paying her a bit of damn attention. Ren wasn’t going to admit that he liked that she was someone who could keep him out of trouble and also keep up with his bullshit, because this was a one-time thing. Liz would be back soon, she had to come around eventually- right?- and as soon as she did, things would go back to normal. He’d ignore Salem, and she and Liz would hide upstairs listening to some indie rock playlist way too loud over calculus notes and pretzel sticks.

It was better not to get so attached, after all this was something he’d agreed to out of guilt for swearing at her the other night, and because he was a weak bastard who let her tell him what he needed- a night off. So far, it was everything he thought it would be, a shit fest with spinning lights and throbbing EDM music. Salem was asking him if he was okay, but if he were being honest and slightly dramatic, he thought he was going to have an anxiety attack. Crowds weren’t his thing, rubbing elbows with half the town stepping on his toes was turning into a game of who he could snarl at next. It only was making him more acutely aware of their surroundings, his hand returning instinctively to Salem’s back as she delicately dodged groups of people his lean frame couldn’t so easily duck out of the way of.

“Mm,” Renny replied distractedly watching a girl stumble on her heels while her friends joined the mosh pit materializing at the fringes of the crowd. How did people enjoy this? “How about we get drinks?” Ren huffed, already looking worn from the night despite the few seconds they’d been inside. He was grateful he was too poor to afford a tux and had chosen a simple short sleeve button down instead, the air stuffy as they wriggled through a dense part of the ballroom dance floor. “Salem-?” Ren echoed back over his shoulder, catching Salem’s hand before she could get swallowed up and pushed back into the mosh pit. “I got you,” he shouted at her, even if she probably couldn’t hear him and was too busy trying not to get poked in the eye by someones flailing dance moves.

Mowing down a path for them, Ren finally stumbled out of the dance floor with Salem right behind him, his fingers curled tightly still around her knuckles. Damn teenagers. The bar was teeming with an older crowd of twenty-somethings, some seated at the barstools while others cheered on a housewife who was clearly plastered and on her fourth drink. Ren didn’t drink that often, but if he was going to survive tonight he thought he might as well. “Right here,” Renny nodded to a barstool on the end, helping her get up on the stool in those heels. Since the next seat was occupied, Ren chose to stand, elbows on the bar counter as he flagged a bartender down.

“What can I get for ya?” “Vodka seltzer,” Ren replied without blinking, flashing his ID and credit card across the mahogany without being prompted. “And for the lady?” While the bartender busily mixed his drink, Ren raised an eyebrow at her with a small quirk on his lips. “What will it be tonight, Penderghast? I’m buying you a drink.” In any other circumstance- there would be no other circumstance- Ren would not be buying Salem, or any one of his little sister’s friends for that matter, a drink. Last time he’d been at a bar he’d gotten buzzed and went home with his lab partner, and that was not something that was happening here-