“it costs me energy, sweetheart,” she grinned, in a way that had her front-teeth showing and nostrils flared. penelope couldn’t comment any more as she waited for the chaos that was sure to ensue after she attacked the girl with the ketchup.
but as soon as she disappeared, penelope’s jaw dropped. “what the hell –” she gasped, getting up from her seat with a jolt. “how are you doing that, WHAT ARE YOU?!” she squealed.
“with all those calories you’re eating, you should have plenty of energy, right?” she said, her smile wide, and it widened even more once it was invisible and the girl started freaking out. this was one of the things she loved about her powers.
she cackled, throwing her milkshake in the girl’s direction before moving elsewhere, but still close enough for her to say, “wouldn’t you like to know?”
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“sorry to disappoint, but not everyone can just bibbidi-bobbidi-boo their problems right away the apology’s all i can afford right now,” she said, flitting her hand in the air. penelope clenched her fists on the table, but she kept herself in check long enough to execute a plan. she set out a tissue on the table and began placing some fries there (for eating later), leaving the wet-with-ketchup fries on its cardboard tray.
“…oh, right, that’s for cheerleading. i thought it was a new cult for desperate girls who can’t fit in anywhere else. but it needs a little something –” she picked up the tray of ketchuped-fries, landing it on the girl’s shirt. “looks much better.”
“doing laundry costs nothing, what are you talking about? and there’s literally only one student who can bibbidi-bobbidi-bullshit their problems away.” though if she thought about it, the reaction to being called a scullery maid and the mention of the fairy godmother’s spell should have made it obvious who she was related to.
she watched the girl move the fries, seeing what was coming, but she wasn’t in time to stop it. the uniform was already ruined, anyway. once her shirt was covered, she just grinned and faded into the background, completely invisible as she giggled. “people can’t judge what they don’t see, right?” she said, hand closing around the milkshake on her own tray.
( @helenxrider said how do i feel by the end of the day? are you sad because you're on your own? no, i get by with a little help from my friends. )
there weren’t many people who knew eirella as well has her father did. pascal could always tell what was bothering her by simply listening to her talk, or analysing the tiniest of actions. he just always knew, and during her early days, he was the only one who could.
and then, like magic ( was it magic? it could have been magic, because who knew what else that long ass hair could do ), helen seemed to be able to do the same thing. it was very possible that pascal had told helen what to look out for, since out of the riders, it seemed likely that pascal would task her with looking after eirella, being the most sensible of their close-nit family.
as soon as she’d realised this, eirella tried her best to keep her tells to a minimum. it was difficult, considering she had the most explosive temper corona had ever seen, and she wasn’t used to keeping her opinions at bay. it worked in most places. her classmates didn’t know what had happened to her, and her teachers were both pleased and confused by her newfound quiet demeanour.
but behind closed doors, it stressed eirella out to no end. for a while, the only person she spilled her problems to was aurelius, though she had to be careful even then. he was helen’s horse. she made him promise not to give helen any hints, though whether he ever did or not, she didn’t know.
it was her father who brought it up first. it was inevitable, really. he was able to read people like a book, his daughter even more so. it was both a blessing and a curse in eirella’s eyes.
“eirella, you need to stop bottling things up,” he said at breakfast one saturday morning, when it was just the two of them. this was probably intentional. he knew how eirella hated being confronted by him in front of other people. “it’s stressing you out, i can tell.”
eirella’s first instinct was to defend, defend, defend. yet this was her father. she couldn’t lie to him when he already knew what the problem was. instead, she asked, “how’d you know? did my fucking pinkie twitch or something?”
“language,” pascal scolded. “and helen told me, actually.”
now that surprised her. someone had figured her out before her father? that was completely unheard of. she didn’t know how to feel about it.
yet, at the same time, she was glad it was helen.
“huh,” she said, mostly to herself.
maybe telling helen things once in a while wouldn’t be the end of the world.
penelope scoffed, affronted at the girl’s insistence to stay. and now she was sitting on her table. she pulled her tray of food closer to her, eating another french fry slowly. “what, you never heard of an accident? i’m so sorry.” the laundry comment didn’t bother her so much though she outwardly scowled, but the smile and the next comment about being a you-know-what made her slam her hand on the table again, this time only making a loud BANG noise. “get OFF my table, you STUPID COW, or you’ll get more than just a few stains on your ridiculous outfit –”
eirella made herself comfortable, not about to back down. she could take the high road and just walk away, but eirella greene was a petty person, and petty people didn’t know when to quit. “because apologies always just magically fix everything,” she said, wiggling her fingers. Her eyes widened when the girl slammed the table, but the surprise was short lived, making way for satisfaction. she’d hit a nerve. “last i checked, this table was school property. and if by ridiculous outfit you mean the cheerleading uniform that so many people around here wear, then sure, go for it.”
penelope’s lip curled at the sight of the girl suddenly in front of her. “here’s an idea, why don’t you get your huge nose out of my face and do it yourself?” she took a disdainful look at the girl’s splattered uniform. “if you ask me, it’s an improvement. really adds to school pep,” she flashed a saccharine smile, popping a single french fry into her mouth before eating it.
rather than moving away, eirella sat on the edge of the table, taking her smoothie and slurping a bit of it before answering. “what’s the issue? you’re the one who splattered my uniform, so it’s only natural that you make it up to me, right?” she tilted her head. “or are you just so useless that you can’t even do laundry?” her own smile mirrored the other girl’s as she looked her up and down. “sorry, my bad, i just sorta assumed you were a scullery maid.”
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Penelope looked down at the tray of food she’d bought from the university’s food court. A huge submarine sandwich. A large Sprite and chips with ketchup on the side. She even managed to snag the last muffin before someone else could. She loved food and had been thinking about it all day.
But just as she was about to take a bite, she remembered Blythe’s comment about stuffing her face. Her face hardened and she scowled. With one hand holding the sandwich, she slammed the other on the table – only to actually slam on the chips, splattering chips and ketchup to the side.
eirella didn’t usually eat at the university food court. she’d buy food there, only to take it outside and eat under a tree. that was where she was heading when she passed by the girl, not looking her way until she felt something warm on her arms and cheerleading uniform. knowing that it would take forever to get the stains out, she stepped to the side and slammed her tray on the table.
“watch where you’re slamming your fucking ketchup,” she said, leaning over the table so she could get in the other girl’s face. “you’re either paying me for this or you get to clean my uniform. your choice.”
SHE IS LEGIT THE MOST ANNOYING THING IN MY LIFE SHE DON'T CARE FOR ME SHE DON'T LOVE ME SHE DON'T PAY ATTENTION TO ME BUT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE LIFE WITHOUT HER SHE MY QUEEN KARMA CHAMELEON
“answer: you’re not, ‘cause you can’t live without me.”
“I’m FUCKING adorable, okay?” Crimson started, flashing a bright smile. “Look at these dimples. And the pearly whites? I’m cute as fuck. If you’re cute, then so am I. But if I’m not cute, then neither are you.” The werewolf puffed out his chest playfully. “They’ll back me up, too. Don’t forget that our friends like us both equally.”
“don’t talk as though we’re on the same level, you ass. speaking of asses, though, i have a fantastic one.” she made a point to strutting over to the other side of the kitchen, wiggling her butt as she did. “oh, really? elise and helen maybe, but char is my older brother, so he has to agree with me.”
“If that’s the case, then neither are you,” Crimson retorted. He was preparing his coffee (a splash of rum hidden in the depths of caffeine, cream, and sugar) before leaning against the kitchen counter. “If you’re cute, I’m cute. If you’re perfect, I’m perfect. Tell me how else we coexist, fam.”
“okay, look, i’ll accept that i’m not perfect. no one is perfect. but me? not being cute? uh, i don’t think so.” she pressed the lid back on the butter and returned it to the fridge. “the others would totally back me up on this.”
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“Okay, off we go then!” she exclaimed triumphantly before starting towards the mini golf course. “Not too hard, no,’ she reassured her.
“okay, but if she ever pushes you too hard, let me know and i’ll kick her ass. just a bit,” she said, making sure to add the last part quickly, just in case. “not enough to stop her from cheerleading or anything.”
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