supernova

"And do you ever find any?" She asks, head cocked to the side in curiosity. "Ghosts, I mean?" Lola had never really taken the time to consider whether ghosts felt real to her, but she was a romantic at heart, and there was something about ties so strong that they prevented you from leaving this plane of existence that held a certain appeal to her. "Closest I've gotten to an abandoned house was pet-sitting for my aunt, I think."

"I suppose that depends what you define as a ghost." That made all the difference at the end of the day; what you chose to see, what you chose to believe. There had been things Nova had encountered that others might, and had, argued was something — he'd never been so sure. "I've witnessed some things not so easily explained but to say concretely what they are? I'm not sure I have the evidence for that." The expression that had taken on a more solemn appearance is drawn back into amusement with Lola's own words, own experiences. "I'm not so sure that constitutes as abandoned, baby. Though, I suppose you can now add this charming building to your roster."

"He -" he began correcting, dragging out the phlegmy sound far more than was necessary, "He - He - it's He-ath." Strung all together like that, Heath clunkily became 'He-eeth-uh,' but he was sure that Nova got the picture, because there was no way in hell that he wasn't mispronouncing it (AKA saying the wrong name entirely) on purpose to begin with. He finally looked over at them, eyes widening a touch for added emphasis as he directed, "Say it with your throat." If you looked really close, maybe there was a sparkle of something enjoyably snarky in his eyes, a twitch to his lips that evened out in a second flat, not quite forming the smirk he was bound for. Heath shook his head and blinked back to the elevator doors. "I'm not all that into anyone watching me without knowing about it beforehand," he said, giving a laborious sigh. "You pulling pages from G's playbook now?" He wasn't one to gossip, but that sure could be an interesting rumor if it grew legs...

A single brow cocks with the sudden sound that leaves his lips, appearing confused for the reason he's making it. And he is — or at least for a second, until he pairs the first part of the word with the rest and Nova has to press their tongue into their cheek in order to keep from grinning. So he had noticed the 'slip up', and even more important, it was getting to him. That was satisfactory. "Relax, Keith." They reach a hand to pat his own, an adult comforting a worked up child. "I know your name." Then they finally move out of his eye line, press their hips into the elevator wall, if only so that the smirk blossoming onto their features wasn't so apparent. "Ooh...are we going to start a juicy rumor that I'm G? That could make for an exciting sophomore year." It might be concerning if he thought Heath would actually put forth the effort to get the word spreading, but something in his own brain chimed that his attention span simply did not have the wherewithal to get the job done. "Though, I mean...I would be careful who you decide to play that little game with. I am somewhat of a genius." Were. They were a genius. But hey, Nova didn't need to brag, did he?

Why are you problematic

"And how would I know about all your intimate sufferings? You're the one who doesn't kiss and tell," he sniped right back, always loving a quick turnaround on being able to throw someone's words back in their own face. His mouth had tugged crooked, lips curling upwards in a private smile as his eyes remained steadily ahead, marching along while listening to Nova's endless wit. It was a comforting change of pace, differing from his variable self-isolation -- both enacted within the four walls of his dorm and the anonymity he'd found in the crowds at recent parties. Chatter felt good, he'd missed it. "Mm, no, you're totally right. When I think castration, the name Nova really should be the first thing that comes to mind." Monty clucked his tongue before continuing, "Go ahead and pass on my number, though, sure. I like lesbians. My roommate is a lesbian. I could use more lesbian friends. Even if they don't wanna put my balls in a vice." Preferably if they didn't want to, actually. He wasn't genuinely trying to live out any sort of Hostel fantasy, but simply being dramatic. Monty swung his arms, hands catching behind his back, clasping one wrist with his fingers and squeezing tight, holding his arms taught while they drew near to Waverly. "Wanna come up?" he invited, "I'm just gonna smoke for a while." It felt lackluster to admit, like he was breaking some sort of spell of mystery, but he doubted Nova had any grand ideas about him. He glanced his way, eyebrows lifting slowly. "Unless you actually chased after me to kick my ass in light of… well, y'know. Ollie stuff. In that case, invitation revoked, sorry. I gotta think of my health and well-being, too."

"I'm trying to share my intimate sufferings with you right now and you see how you're acting." If, of course, by intimate sufferings, they meant the most surface level of Nova's misfortune, a problem that wasn't really a problem at all. It wasn't that he didn't like Monty enough to offer more substance — he did and that was the hindrance, that ever lingering fear that diving any deeper into who he was would drive people away. That — and the small issue of his refusal to confront his own demons. "It's seriously a good thing you're here for sociology and not psychology."

Seven times out of ten a guy with a dick not knowing what to do with it felt about right to Ollie. Hooking up with ten guys and only having a good time with about three of them lined up pretty well with his experiences, might even be over estimating. "You know, my sex life became so much better when I actually started curating it to the people I actually know," he admitted, as if that was groundbreaking. But it had really helped him. He fell off the wagon during a few points during the summer for reasons, but he was back on it again now. Though after a moment of staring at the books in front of him for much too long he turned to look at Nova. "Maybe just sticking to toys is a good idea. You know, cut out the other person entirely. Right? Just stop fucking around with people. Like that might solve a lot of my problems. Monty doesn't trust me… Maybe it'll help show him that he can." Ollie looked sheepish, and shook his head, "is that stupid? I don't know… Maybe it's a good idea." He muttered as he turned back to the shelf. Ollie snorted, tilting his head back a little bit, "I'd offer to look but Ash hates me already for some reason. So, it's probably best if I stay about 50 yards away from him at all times." 'For some reason'.

"I don't think sex is satisfactory for anyone if it's not being curated to fit them. — Or at least...not as satisfactory as it could be." It was an important aspect of having a genuinely pleasant experience, wasn't it? Being able to understand and alter the circumstances in order to better align with your partners needs. Everyone had different tastes and preferences; unlikely you would end up with two people who were searching for the exact same things in the bedroom, if you were really taking the time to seek out their desires. "Toys aren't just for single use, baby." They could be, of course — but Nova was pro-toys at any point, with anyone. A tool that tended to enhance experiences rather than diminish them. "Though I'm not sure focusing on them and refraining from sex is the proper tool for gaining back someone's trust." After all, it hadn't been the physical act that had landed him and Monty in their mess — but he was sure Ollie didn't need the reminder. "Have you talked to him?"

The assuredness - the swiftness - of his rejection stung, even if Rhia should have seen it from a mile away. Maybe she thought her absence would have healed whatever wounds Nova believed she’d inflicted. Perhaps time wasn’t a remedy at all, because the look on his face pulled Rhia back to the first time she received the same, callous reaction.

A stubbed toe? Was that truly what she considered worse than herself? Worse than the betrayal of trust he'd so stupidly granted her? There's a part of him that wants to ask if it's the worst that her brain can muster up, the height of physical pain that she'd endured, to assure her there was much, much worse and that there were many infliction's he'd take over exchanging pleasantries with her. Physical pain was nothing in light of the hurt she'd caused them, the walls she'd forced them to begin stacking back into place. It feels petty, childish, a waste of his energy to dispute — but the way she pouts like she has nothing to be sorry for makes him want to wipe the expression from her face.

"i'm not a softy." he tried to argue against the comment, but knows that he doesn't have a leg to stand on. call it repentance, call it southern manners, but leaky would give a stranger the shirt off his back if needed. that much was true. "oh, i ain't lying." he points, taking another bite of the apple. "besides, ruth is just so...welcoming. comforting. kinda reminds me of my gram." he adds with a reflective smile, reminiscing on his times in his grandmama's house, he should call her. "please, you only wish." he teases back, feeling more at ease with nova than he had with anyone in a while. besides, he had no romantic interest in him, that much was clear between the two. "i'm just sayin' i'm an expert unpacker, but hey, you do what you gotta do."

"You're actually the biggest fucking softy I've ever met but, hey..." Hands rise in a display of defeat, the acceptance that he may be wrong, though they both know it's not the case. "Whatever helps you get your beauty sleep at night, baby."

her skin warms under nova's gaze, the blush easily creeping up their neck. another bold outfit choice, something that if their mother gets wind of alethea will certainly hear an earful about. but it's moments like this that they enjoy, thinking that it's worth it. "seems like black is the color of the moment." she comments, nodding to the crowd around them, many of the students dawning the color. "was just wondering." she shrugs, turning back to nova, though he's not wrong. "this is the sorta thing people don't like to do alone, or decide to debut their latest fling." she adds, with a small smile. "though, i've never really been a big fan of homecoming." this time the statement is softer, attention toward downward. each year it seems to get worse and now she's just waiting for the pen to drop.

For all the confidence Alethea seemed to have suddenly gained, it was apparent that most of it was a front. With a single compliment, that familiar blush was creeping back onto their skin just as easily as it always had — not that Nova was complaining, it was a sight that they relished in. "Indeed it does. I'm afraid I missed a very important part of the back-to-school e-mail. — In fact, I'm surprised they haven't kicked me out yet." It was fitting, he supposed; returning that year did feel a bit doom and gloom and the wardrobe choices that evening seemed to be a reflection of that. "Mm, considering me to be anything like most people would be your first mistake, baby." The last thing Nova cared about was arriving stag that evening, not concerned with what, who they had or hadn't showed up with, said about them in the eyes of others. "Did you come with a date seems a much more important question. Because if so, they're foolish for leaving you to your own devices." Foolish for leaving them unattended when it meant Nova could so easily take their hand and lead them away for the rest of the evening — an especially tempting thought given her next words, her understated discomfort. "Then why torment yourself with being here?"

who: open starter when/where: homecoming gala, near the end of the night

It wasn't like he'd meant to interrupt. Sure, Nova enjoyed poking and prodding — but they also understood that there was a time and a place, and that the emotional sound that was pulled from Cara's lips in that moment was certainly no invitation for their usual games. He knew this was intended to be a private moment, that Cara had presumed herself to be alone and was better left that way. He also knew he felt guilty leaving her standing like that, looking fractured in a way he'd never witnessed, like it was somehow his job to remedy a situation that had nothing to do with him.

STATUS: Closed for @novadodson SETTING: Homecoming Gala 2023

"Reina." He greets her with a dramatic twirl of his hand followed by a bow, smile on his lips when he straightens back out and displays the cigarette resting between two fingers. "Am I that predictable?" Though Nova knew they were — not that hard to imagine the person with the nicotine addition had slipped outside of yet another event to treat themselves. "I see you too missed the black tie 'and by black tie we mean black only' memo." He certainly had. "How have you been, baby?" A question that brings with it the softening of his tone and features, sincerity in the place of sarcasm, knowing Reina had ended the year in the same terrifying position as Link. "Have you healed alright?"

she fought the urge to scowl - it caused wrinkles, after all. so instead, she gave a tight smile. "oh, don't worry about it. actually, you won't have to worry about any texts from me for a long time. maybe ever again, as a matter of fact." the disrespect? the humiliation? that was charlie's to inflict, so how dare he. "since you're so busy and everything, i'll just leave you in peace. to rot." in hell.

"Ever again?" A threat that makes their features crinkle. "That's a tad dramatic, don't we think?" If he's honest, he doesn't know whether or not Charlie would make good on the words. A part of him thought she wouldn't hesitate but the other chimed that if he continued to act nonchalant, it would make her crazy enough to do the very opposite. "You can't give a guy a ten minute deadline, you know? Some men would take all ten minutes just to read that, let alone figure out how to respond to a beautiful woman seeking their attention. We're very delicate creatures, you know?"

with: open ! when / where: homecoming, later in the evening.

"A part of me wants to say yes because not all of us can afford the, uh...whole glitz and glam bullshit." Seriously, some of these looks had to have cost thousands, an amount that made Nova physically sick to consider spending on any outfit, let alone one that would be worn once before being tossed into the back of a closet. "But something else tells me that some of the people around here have outfit-rememberer vibes and no one wants to deal with that." Except for maybe him. — God, what he wouldn't give to have a conversation with someone who felt the need to point out he was wearing an item they'd seen before, perhaps a little altercation would distract him from current stresses. "Have you ever worn the same outfit twice to an event?" Tone and expression suggesting that such would be a scandal.

who: open when: homecoming gala, earlier in the night.

"Fuck no." The words come out with an air of negativity that Nova hadn't necessarily meant to put out there, nothing wrong with question but perhaps the tradition as a whole — not that it'd stopped him from casting votes for those most important in his life, of course. "I really hate the whole...popularity contest bullshit. It gives real weird vibes." Just another thing society did to leave people questioning their self-worth.