broadripple central.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐒.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Chiara G. Angeles 𝐀𝐆𝐄: 18 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐄: Senior 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄: Fenwick 𝐂𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌: Six 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐋𝐄: This will be her 3rd year. 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍: Dallas, TX  𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐒: Girls Soccer Team, Sacristan Club, Women of Broadripple

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒.

𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄: Optimistic / Imaginative / Caring 𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋: Private / Proud  𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄: Transparent / Naive / Jealous

𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒.

Chiara was born in Dallas, TX and has three younger brothers (ages 14, 10 and 7). 

Due to her cultures, Chiara is very traditionally Catholic. Her family has attended St. Agnes Academy for generations and she’s the only one to have deviated from that tradition by attending Broadripple after her mother’s death.

Shortly after Chiara was accepted at Broadripple, her godmother took a job in Manhattan.

She was raised to be traditionally feminine, obedient and submissive.
If you’re looking for her, you can easily find her at the Chapel when it’s open or somewhere at the edge of the river writing, reading or contemplating her own existence.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒.

Chiara is a writer. She has journals upon journals of songs and unfinished poems.

Those songs - she’s performed during open mic nights in NY when she can travel for the weekend.

These last few years she’s been at Broadripple, she’s gone home to her godmother’s. She still considers herself a Texan to her core, though.

She wears a 14k gold plated medal of St. Benedict around her neck that used to belong to her maternal grandfather.

Chiara’s favorite food is arancini, but her favorite dessert is lime-flavored cheesecake.

She did ballet from age 6 up to 7th grade when she tried out for soccer and made her school’s team.

She’s always been a good girl in terms of her academics - always turning in her work on time, studying to get her desired grades, putting in the work, never skipping school, etc. Since she sees her academic achievement as her way to escaping home, she tries her best to not let that fall through. 

𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭?

“I think it’s very generous of the town to help us in our time of need.” Chiara smiles, her eyes wandering to the trees ahead of her. “Plus, we get a nice view of the woods so there’s not much to complain about.” Somewhere at a short distance there’s a faint howling from the wind, as if reminding her that she’s not exactly in paradise. She keeps her gaze and smile on the forest, unyielding. 

𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫𝐬?

“Not at all.” She scrunches up her nose slightly, “I grew up in the suburbs. There were parks and everything but it’s nothing compared to this.” She’s sitting on the steps of the Senior cabin, mindlessly running her finger along the grass. “I kind of wish I had grown up with that, you know? There’s a lot of beauty in these woods, I can only imagine what the rest of them look like.” 

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞? 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞?

She has to think about this, as if it’s been ages since she’s last seen her bunk. “There’s a lot of books and pictures.” Most of them are of her family, but there’s pieces of art on there as well. One picture in specific is ripped in half, hidden between the many things on the cork board hanging by her bed. The bedding is velvety yellow, but the overall aesthetic is in different shades of pink. “Oh, maybe I should add some fairy lights around the window frame.”

𝐃𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥? 𝐓𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞?

”Yes?” It’s a question she doesn’t know exactly how to answer. “I mean, God is real. And so is the devil.” She shifts backward a little, an uneasiness crossing her eyes as she speaks the last word. “So if they’re real - who’s to say that ghosts and spirits aren’t?” 

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝?

“I’m not answering that.” she says between gentle laughs. “Whether I say yes or no, some people might do something with it.” Though she seemed soft and small in the early morning glow, Chiara actually had a pretty decent stomach for all things horror. Sure, she had her limits but for the most part she could handle a good scare. 

________

It took a lot to stir Logan from a slumber, while his other classmates complained about the constant noise that came with the retreat, he found it soothing, reminded him of nights on the road with his parents. He found himself lulled into a deep sleep by the buzz of activity around him, it was a sign that he wasn’t alone, which comforted him. 

The sound that couldn’t be described as anything other than a clatter was not comforting. He sat up in his bed quickly, his head instantly going to the accident, and he had to take a few deep breaths to realize that he wasn’t back in the van but safe in the cabins. At first he thought that he had dreamed up the sound, it wouldn’t be the first time he dreamed about the crash, but then he realized his classmates had also awoken, rubbing sleep out of their eyes and getting up to investigate what had make the sound. 

He made his way towards the senior cabin in his pajamas, the pink hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. Logan didn’t scare easily but he couldn’t denying the eerie feeling in the air. “This is giving me a weird feeling man.” He said to the person closest to him, rubbing his arm that was covered in goosebumps despite the warm weather. 

@ba-central​

everything about the retreat was fucking weird, connor was starting to accept that. there was something about it that made it feel like his heart was permanently in his throat. and he couldn’t decide whether that something was something explainable like being in a new weird location in even closer proximity to people who said rude things about him and his friends. or if it was something less explainable like supernatural entities fucking with them, or plain old nature getting revenge for whatever happened in the woods that made it feel so creepy all the time.

the recent ransacking of belongings didn’t help. again it could be people– assholes fucking with everyone, but what would an asshole want with his shitty digital recorder that he’d bought for like five dollars at a thrift shop. or his casey’s ant man shirt. or a postcard, a pair of socks, a shoe, a pair of sunglasses, or any of the other things he’d heard people were missing since that day. what also didn’t help was the clatter that disturbed his sorting through files on his laptop in the middle of the night. he jumped, surprised by the sound, pulling his headphones from his ears by their cord. he sat still for a second, a split second before he scrambled from his bed to basically press his nose against the window. looking in the direction he thought he’d heard the noise from he didn’t see anything, but he was sure he had heard something. 

barefoot, and dressed in his pyjamas ( black sweatpants and a star wars shirt ) he backed away from the window, turned and made his way into the hallway. quickly, he wanted to see whatever had made the sound– he wanted to see what it was before it ran off so he could clear his mind of the thought that he was five minutes away from being in his very own poltergeist film. but with that intention, he was moving too quickly and ran directly into someone as he stepped out of his room. “ shit– sorry, ” he quickly apologised, almost backing into a wall in the process. he kept his voice low, last time he’d checked the time it’d been like three am. “ did you hear that noise outside too? ” maybe he wasn’t being haunted maybe he was just hearing things. “ just before, ” he clarified, “ i swear i heard– i don’t know, a crash or something. ”

𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘, 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 are so riled up about the noise — sure, it’d been strange, but hardly something to be up in arms about. He would have fallen right back asleep if it hadn’t been for the influx of quiet commotion surrounding the occurrence. Nothing too loud, but definitely more than a usual night. He’d ended up outside by a picnic table, cheek cradled by his palm as he periodically dozed off, jolting up every time someone walked past.

Plot Opportunity: **001

Open: Anyone

@ba-central

What was that? Domenico could swear that he had heard a strong clattering or something. Yeah it was enough to bring him back from the sweet embrace of Morpheus. Could it be just a dream? Maybe… Besides, the retreat wasn’t exactly quiet during the night, between the ‘music’ of the forest and the snoring of his roomies. Thanks god that he was actually a deep sleeper. And yet… that weird noise still managed to shake him up from his torpor. Truth was, his instinctive reaction was to just turn sideways and go back to sleep, but an idea had wormed its way into his mind.

What if it was that damned thief? The one that had stolen his beloved zippo and had ransacked through his things, strained a favourite t-shirt and in general gave him the nasty feeling of having his personal space invaded, not long before. Could be right? Perhaps they were working on another prank.

It would be sweet wouldn’t it to caught him (or her, but Nico believed himself enough in teenage psychology that he was convinced that the odds of actually being a girl were pretty low)? Yep definitely. Now of course there could be a thousand different explanation, but to the still barely awake mind of the seventeen years old there was no doubt. He was about to get that asshole.

As quietly as he could manage, unwilling to wake up the whole room, the young man left the warmth of his bed. Heart racing a little already.  Was he scared or something? No way, right? Right? For a moment he thought about putting on some clothes, clad as he was just in boxers briefs, yet he didn’t want to waste precious time. The thief could go away any minute from now. Instead he took just the baseball bat from one of the boxes under his bunk, the one that he had brought in Nightmore after the theft*, together with his phone, in case he needed a source of light. Although, given how far they were from civilization, that usually the stars were more than enough, even in that god-forgotten place. Good, with no light he would be harder to spot by his ‘quarry’.

He didn’t close the door behind his back when he left the room, better not to draw attention to himself. Swiftly he navigated the darkened retreat, stepping lightly on the path in between the cabins. Not the first time he had found himself sneaking around, nor probably the last. Yet, despite all of his outward bravado, the eerie atmosphere of the retreat still gave him the hibiby-jibies, he could feel the adrenaline raising already.

There it was. The senior cabin. And the source of the noise. He hid, leaning with his back against one of the wooden walls, the source of the noise was just past the corner. Now he only needed to peer past it before deciding what to do. (And to check if the source of the noise was actually someone from the staff being caught by the staff half-naked and with a baseball bat outside at night wouldn’t have been easy to explain). Speaking of which. What was that? This time he could swear that he had heard steps. Coming from the opposite side of the clattering though. Fuck. He turned swiftly to face the newcomer, the baseball bat raised in his left hand.

“Woah…” His eyes widened when he recognized a fellow student. “Sorry… I…” He whispered, ruffling the head on the back of his neck.

“Be quiet ok? I think it’s the fucking prankster.”

It wasn’t funny. Well, maybe it was a little funny.

At least he thought it was, sure the place was a complete mess, there was truly no other way to describe it. There wasn’t a single room that hadn’t been completely turned upside down, not a single inch of grass that wasn’t now housing a bag or item of clothing. He laughed, he couldn’t help it, the minute he stepped off the bus and laid eyes the Retreat he started laughing. 

His bag had been dropped outside near a tree, he was anything but organized, he hadn’t really bothered in folding his clothes when packing more than he had just shoved a bunch of things together and called it a day — but even among chaos there was order, and this was not what his bag looked like on a regular day. It a mess, a complete mess. He took the time to go through everything, but nothing was seemed to be missing. This was a next level prank, and he wanted to desperately to meet them. 

As he watched the other students around him go through their things, and help put the place back in order he flipped through the pages of one of his books, more out of a habbit than anything else. It was then that he noticed the dedication page was gone. What? Milo had a habit of ripping pages off books to use for decoration but he would’ve never taken out that particular page. He bought that book at a dollar store only for the dedication. It read: ‘to my bruce, who was the best person i ever knew, even though he was a dog.’ It made him laugh so he bought it, without even reading the summary at the back. 

“Who do you think did this?” He asked to no one in particular as he took in what used to be the Retreat but was now just a complete mess. He couldn’t help the smile the grew on the edges of his lips. He wished he had come up with a prank like this himself. “This is some next level shit. I’m impressed.” 

It wasn’t that her bag had been dropped something outside her room, no, everything she had brought along was scattered all over the Retreat. So far, she had managed to get her hands on a handfull of clothes along with some crystals and the single book she had brought along in the hopes of maybe finishing it this time. It seemed all her things were somewhere around the Retreat, because as she walked further away from the main hall she kept on finding things all over the grass, on some bushes and even hidden behind a few rocks. There was however one thing she still couldn’t seem to find, one of her bracelets.

Was this how she was supposed to spend the rest of the weekend? Chasing after any clue that would tell her where the rest of her things were? Luna threw the belongings she had been holding in her arms, as they hit the ground she covered her face with her hands and screamed loudly in frustration, her screams were muflled due to her hands but still audible. “This is the single worst fucking treasure hunt in the history of treasure hunts! What the fuck? What the f—” Out of the corner of her eye she got a glimpse of another student. Luna cleared her throat before she kneeled down to pick up her things once again. 

You have got to be fucking kidding. It was already a load of horse shit that they had to stay in run-down cabins and now this? Emma had no idea why so many kids at this school believed in God when things like this happened. She was going to kill whoever did this. She’ll go straight to juvie, she didn’t even care. The worst part of it all was that she had to talk to people now. Because whoever did this was fucking thorough. It was like a hurricane blew through the place and everyone’s crap was all mixed up. For the most part, Emma has found most of her things. It wasn’t difficult. If something was black, it was usually hers. And she didn’t have too many things. But she was missing something. Something… dumb but it was important to her so she figured she’d ask around for it.

“Hey, have you seen like, a postcard?” Not like a postcard, a postcard. She was just fucking exhausted. Not to mention through-the-roof irritated. It was Friday. She just finished and submitted a bunch of shit at school. All she wanted to do this weekend was hole-up and watch some movies she downloaded while at the library. Hunting and collecting all of her crap off of the cabin floor was not part of the plan. “It says Portland on it.”

At first, when they were just getting off the bus, he had almost laughed at the sudden make over the Retreat had gotten. It certainly made it look more colorful with all the stuff that were laying all over the place, but it wasn’t until he got closer that he realized that all those stuff he had originally thought was trash or food was nothing more than their belongings. His belongings. All color drained from him face in that moment. 

Arlo rushed straight into his room, only to come face to face with an even bigger mess. Well, not really, the entire Retreat seemed to be in the same conditions but from the way his heart started beating the moment he saw his clothes laying all over the ground, one could’ve argued he had stepped into a war zone. He completely ignored whatever was going on outside of those four walls, as he took the time to carefully rearrange every item of clothing back into his suitcases. Some clothes were scattered on the floor, some he found on his roommates beds, and others he had to search for in the grass outside. He didn’t utter a single word to anyone as he did so, he could only handle so much right now.

He had been going through, his now organized belongings, over and over again but each time there was one item that was no where to be seen. His sunglasses. The black ones, to be more precise. He had found some of his stuff outside before, maybe he just needed to keep looking. Arlo was scanning the grass, but it was difficult to spot anything among all the clothes, books and other belongings that he couldn’t even care to name that laid all around the Retreat. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” He muttered to himself. He brought another three pair of sunglasses with him, but that was not the point, they were his and he wanted them back. Who the fuck had even done this? “Hey, you!” He called out without realizing he was stepping over something that certainly wasn’t grass and most definitely belonged to someone. “Did you see a pair of sunglasses laying around here somewhere? Black ray bands, golden earpiece.” 

ARLO IVAN PORTER ( REECE KING ) is a EIGHTEEN year old SENIOR student at Broadripple Academy. HE is originally from MANHATTAN but moved to Broadripple TWO YEARS ago. HE is PASSIONATE and RESOURCEFUL but can also be UNSCRUPULOUS and VULGAR.

Time: 4:15

@ba-central​

Diana was seething. Someone had dared to go through her stuff. When she found out who did this they were going to find life very hard for themselves. And she was sure she wasn’t the only one on the war path. They better hope they never got caught. And after she had spent so much time making sure everything was in it’s place the other night to. Now she had to do it all again.

Most of the student’s were making an even bigger mess trying to see if anything was missing. Idiots. Diana had decided to go about it by starting on cleaning it up. She really didn’t know how they expected to find anything, or not find anything, in an even bigger mess. And it really was a big mess. She had found one of her T-shirts on the other side of the room. The idea of someone not only going through her stuff, but throwing it around to? 

She had to take a deep breath when she finished and realized what exactly was missing. The right shoe of her navy blue boots. And only the right one. Who even dose that. You can’t even wear them if you only have one.  The only thing they would gain is inconveniencing her.  She was tacking up the last of her pictures when a shadow fell across one of them. Turning around  she faced whoever had approached her. 

“This is just awful isn’t it? I don’t see how someone could do something like this.”