CORRUPTOR.

INTRODUCING THE CORRUPTER — PHOEBE-MAY LANGDON.

𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚃𝚂 ;

𝙰𝙶𝙴 ; Twenty-five.

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙽𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚂 ; She / Her.

𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙰𝙹𝙾𝚁 ; Second year graduate student & Quant Econ.

𝙵𝙰𝙲𝙴𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼 ; Anya Taylor-Joy.

Phoebe could be intense from time to time, but Sylvia preferred to see the best in her roommate. Their conversation from the party was still fresh on her mind as well and she wanted to make more of an effort to properly befriend her. No one should feel alone, she thought. 

With good intentions in mind, she slips out of her bed to get up and help. “No? I could’ve sworn…Unless Odette or someone moved it.” Sylvia purses her lips thoughtfully before giving Phoebe a smile. “But I’m sure it didn’t get far. It’s not like it grew legs and walked away, right?” Walking over to the small kitchen, her eyes ice skate around the room. “I definitely put it somewhere over here. Is it on the table?”

♕

PHOEBE DOESN’T BOTHER to laugh at Sylvia’s little joke about her shampoo growing legs and walking away, already miffed as she was about the situation. She follows Sylvia out, hands crossed over her chest. “Do you see it on the table?” It’s mostly genuine, steeped in just enough bite to let on that she is annoyed by the entire situation. Just because Sylvia is sweet doesn’t give her a pass for losing another’s belongings, even if Phoebe isn’t 100% sure that she’d been the one to misplace it in the first place. 

Rummaging through the rest of the kitchen, Phoebe turns up empty-handed, and she flips around, throwing the other a displeased look. “Next time, when you’re cleaning, try not to touch my things, all right?” 

Odette preferred her privacy, especially when she had to record audio for the podcast and ensure a quiet place for some of her group projects. However with final exams coming around, she knew it’d be easier to stay on campus for the full week rather than partially. 

But god, she was hoping to run into Sylvia first. Whatever had happened during the boat party, Odette knew she had to have her guard all the way up around Phoebe while still maintaining their usual pleasantries. “Hey,” she greets, setting her bag down as she started removing her shoes and coat. “Yeah, I’m staying for the rest of the semester for finals and stuff. But I’m doing well.” She nods her head towards Phoebe as she placed her things in the coat closet. “How about you?”

♕

AND OF COURSE. It isn’t as if Phoebe doesn’t want Odette around, per se, but she’d gotten used to sharing the space with just Sylvia. Frankly, she’d been avoiding Odette as much as she could — while still also keeping tabs on her, of course. She never knew when she’d needed to one-up the woman, who had just as much cunning as herself. 

“Lovely,” she replies, pressing her bookmark into the spine and closing it. “A little stressed, maybe; I’ve got stuff to finish like everybody else.” And she swings her legs around, not seeming any more wound up than her usual self. A deliberate pause inserted into her words, she turns to face the other properly. “And what about everything outside of school? Dish.”

the possibility that it could be any of the members tugs on her heart too painfully for her to even consider it. even if hera holds the society at arm’s length, she still holds it, keeps it close because it was familiar and friendly and somewhere to belong. her hands hover over a piece of torn up paper, the words blurring together before she picks it up and looks over to phoebe. “i don’t think so,” she says, as resolutely as she can. “it can’t be … we were all at the party, and as far as i know none of us hold any grudges against the society. it had to have been an outsider.” it had to be, because hera wouldn’t know how to pick up the pieces of her heart if it wasn’t.

“i always felt like people who really understood math had some kind of super power or something like that,” farrow jokes, thinking of the hours he and his grandfather spent trying to understand the math homework he was given in school to no avail. at some point he had just started giving up. “oh, uh—,” he pauses, one hand scratching at the back of his neck. a nervous habit, more than anything. “my mother did when i was very young.” any mention of his mother leaves him with a heavy weight on his chest but he takes a deep breath and tries to will it away. 

♕

PHOEBE SMILES, TAKING notice of the other’s little compliment. “God, I wish. It’s easier in a way, because there’s a method to everything and somewhat of a ‘right’ answer, maybe.” She looks up. “I know you have music theory and everything, but that’s just it, isn’t it? It’s all just a theory.” Smiling, she chuckles, feigning the casual nature of a conversation. “Honestly, I have no idea what I’m talking about.” 

If Phoebe notices the other’s slight discomfort, she gives no indication of it, sipping from her drink and putting it down on the table. “That’s really sweet. She must be so proud of you, studying music after all that she taught you.” 

miles had spent most of his day at the library. helping out with the cleaning, trying to get it back to its usual magnificence. and although the place now looked like nothing happened, there was still a dark cloud looming over the society and all its members. how could they move on from this? for miles, it was like eternally waiting for the blow but never quite knowing when and how it’d hit. 

begrudgingly, he makes his way back to the wilde apartment with his hands deep in his coat’s pockets. the wind is howling, hitting his skin, and he can’t wait to walk in the warmth of the home he shares with nevaeh. he’s almost there, walking a little bit faster with each step when a figure outside the building makes him stop on his tracks. he recognizes phoebe almost instantly. 

miles takes a deep breath as he makes his way over. he is happy to see her. but he is not in the mood to continue their fight from last night. there’s enough in his plate as it is, he doesn’t need phoebe breaking up with him as well. because.. that’s what she is here for, right ?

“hey,” he mutters shyly, once he is in front of here. “what are you doing here? it’s freezing cold.” 

SHE HAD BEEN just about ready to give up for the night, fingers nipped frozen from the cold, but that’s when she sees Miles, walking down the path to Wilde Apartment with hands tucked inside his pockets. “Miles!” She bolts up from her spot, hands in tight fists by her side. “Yes it - it is cold,” she affirms, suddenly finding herself tripping over her words. Swallowing, she purses her lips, opening her mouth to say what she wants to say: an apology. A sentiment that is rare for the woman, who’d often thought of herself as somebody who could do no wrong. But as she stares up at Miles, she knows that if there is one person in the entire world that deserves her remorse, it would be him. “Miles, I just wanted to say —”

Sylvia wasn’t much of an early riser, preferring to spend her off days sleeping in. She’d been having some trouble resting since the night on the ship, however. She assumed it left everybody a little on edge and it was difficult for her to accept there was a threat to being in the society at all. She very much idealized it, like most things. 

For example, her most recent interaction with Phoebe. She hoped that the conversation from that night might bring the two of them closer together. Upon hearing her voice though, Sylvia nearly jumps. She never was a fan of being yelled at. When she speaks again, this time calmer, she relaxes. Her attention turns to the blonde as she thinks about where said face mask could’ve been. “Oh!” Her eyes widen in realization. “I was wiping down the bathroom and moved it. I know I put it somewhere in the kitchen. Maybe check the counter.” 

♕

THOUGH SYLVIA IS still in bed, Phoebe takes no notice, tapping her foot by the door in vague annoyance. Sylvia had moved it. Inside, she is boiling with annoyance disproportionate to the action, but only because she despised when other people touched her things.

But she reigns the feeling in, allowing herself to plaster on a ( mildy crazed ) smile, sticking her head back out of Sylvia’s room into the kitchen. Phoebe doesn’t see it, though there is a possibility it got stuffed into a cabinet somewhere. “It’s not there,” she says, smile still unnaturally wide. “Do you mind getting up and showing me where it is?” 

“i try my best,” he explained, ignoring the anxious looks from the soccer field. if they were fine before he showed up on the field, then they could handle themselves now. “odette?” he repeated, a confused look appeared on his face. the french woman was the last person he assumed people would ask him about. “we had a class together this semester. she’s quite outspoken i suppose. trouble in paradise?” he asked, recalling phoebe lived with odette and sylvia.

♕

IT’S NOT THE response she’d been expecting, but no matter. She’s used to people stonewalling her from their life, and she didn’t expect anything less from Lye. “Hm,” she says in response. “Maybe a tad. You know she doesn’t live on campus, right?” Coy, she ventures a look at the man sitting next to her. “She can do what she wants, but I really wonder if it’s really that awful to live on campus with us.”

status: open

location: some common room

time: 2pm

“do you think that if i sold my crappy piece of junk to carmax that i’d get some good coin back?” luca asks mostly speaking his thoughts out loud– always a bad habit of his as he scrolled through the carmax homepage on his laptop. his eyes squinting for that he has been staring at it for hours. “okay, listen here, it’s been in the family since 2002 since it’s a shitty 2002 chevrolet silverado. but it’s in mint condition because i’m the one that takes care of it. i looked it up. i can either get $600 or i can get four grand for it depending on how someone markets it.” is it worth it? his mind had asked but he had decided to leave that part out. that shitty piece of metal is essentially a family heirloom. luca knows his dad would be pissed if he sold it but that’s exactly why he’s doing it. luca likes to do anything that will piss his dad at sighing he places his laptop down on the table in front of him before closing the screen furrowing his brows. he wanted to do anything than think about the party from the other night. “nope, no. i shouldn’t be looking at that, you want to go on a walk or something? i think i’ve been inside for too long. i think” he says a bit truthfully with a shrug before gathering his belongings and putting them in his bookbag.

♕

PHOEBE IS JUST passing by, finishing up her study hours with an undergraduate student when she spots a fellow society member ranting about god-knows-what on his laptop. She peers over, spots the pictures of cars on his screen and sighs. “That’s an awfully old car,” she comments, not knowing a lick about what a 2002 Chevrolet Silverado was worth. “I’d say take the money, but I always say that. Anyways, how would you get around?” Luca hardly seems like the type to receive a new car for his birthday. 

“I was just about to leave,” she says. “It’s cold out there. Better bundle up.” She steps out of the building, turning to the other with a polite smile. “Did you enjoy the party?” Phoebe never really cared for Luca, but she kept up appearances for the sake of everybody else. Whether or not he’d seen right through it didn’t really matter much to her. 

𝐰𝐡𝐨     :     open @harcourtstart​ 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞     :     inside the secret library :o 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧     :     a day or two after the party idk time isnt real <3

“if i look shaken, it’s because i am.” it’s rare for her to admit her feelings, even rarer for her to admit them out loud     but she’s just finished stuffing trash bags full of torn pages and every ripped piece of paper just reminds her there is a threat waiting outside for them. especially concerning her own reservations about the society, hera feels like life has just dealt a card telling her i told you so. “do you have a minute? i’ve only got two hands.”

SITTING IN THE common room, Phoebe has her legs up on the couch, surprisingly casual for her usual self, but she’s grateful for the moment alone. Book in hand, a mug of tea by her side, she’s right in the middle of a particularly riveting passage when she hears the door open, half-confused.

It’s Odette, and she’d half-forgotten that she was her housemate, given that she’d lived off-campus on her own. “Oh,” she says, “hi. I didn’t know you were going to be coming by today. How are you?” Always polite, but she never got any warmer than cool. 

IT’S A NORMAL morning for Phoebe, starting with a quick shower before she’d continue on for the day. She’d done her best to ignore what’d happened in the library, but even she is a bit pricklier these days. Random sights and occurrences would set her off into fits of grief, or rage. Forgetting her favorite pen for class. Running out of pine nuts for her salad. 

This morning, it’s the fact that her little clay face mask pot is missing, though she is almost positive that she’s placed it in the bathroom. Huffing, feeling the blood rush to her head, she walks out, finding her housemate. “Hey!” she snaps, angrier than she means to, so she pulls her annoyance in, smiling as diplomatically as she could. “Have you seen my face mask?” 

NOTHING HAD SHAKEN her more than the night at the library, and without anyone to turn to, Phoebe had been alone. 

The books strewn all over, the glass all over, refracting light, the missing tapestries, but above all, the note. It’d felt like she was on a train without its breaks, careening out of control on its tracks, with no way to stop it. Even her night with Miles hadn’t gone as planned, and the entirety of her day was spent in her room, wondering how she could fix things. How she could take back control. 

It’s how she ends up by Wilde Apartment in the freezing cold, waiting for somebody to come in — or out of the apartment. Given their little fight, she didn’t want to let herself in as she had before. So she waits, sitting by the steps, bundled up in a thick winter coat, with only her nose and eyes peeking out from under her scarf. 

Lucy sighed, ready to make her case to Phoebe, when the other woman moved. It almost surprised Lucy. Her mouth had already been open to argue and it closed with a dull click. She nodded at Phoebe, moving behind her to grab the book before moving backwards. “You’re right,” she admitted, “I could have gone around.” She looked up from where her gaze had been locked over Phoebe’s shoulder and looked here in the eye. “But you’re not exactly intimidating, and frankly, I’ve gotten about five hours of sleep a night this week and I’m tired. I needed this book and you are far less intimidating than the ten pages I need to write before tomorrow.” She gave a smile, fast, there and gone again in a flicker. “But thank you for moving. I did appreciate it. What,” she cleared her throat, “what brought you here?”

♕

SHE’S PERFECTLY KEEN on letting Lucy pass on by, letting the day move on past the interaction — but then, she says something interesting. She turns back from her focus on the shelf, tilting her head and furrowing her brow, as if she’s heard something curious rather than outright offensive. “I’m not intimidating,” she repeats. For a moment, it almost sounds like she’s right on the precipice of giving Lucy her mind, because she’d liked to think of herself as such. The idea that she wasn’t to someone like Lucy Sheller is almost laughable. “And why would you say that?”

But she revises her demeanor, plasters on a smile, returning her attention back to the bookshelf. “Browsing. For pleasure, if you can believe it. I’m stuck by my laptop all day that it’s nice to see some words for once.” She pulls out a tome, a biography on Plato placed underneath her arm. “What about you?” 

“They do, but it’s still not fair to you,” he assured, not leaving her side. While the damage could had been worse, he didn’t like the thought of leaving Phoebe until the blood stopped. “The guys can wait,” he added, not too worried about the game. His team was winning, and the likelihood of the opposing team making a comeback was slim to none.

♕

SHE HADN’T EXPECTED him to stick around, but she’s relatively pleased when he does. “Well, I guess chivalry isn’t dead, is it?” She wipes away at the remaining blood on her nose as delicately as she could, already feeling the sharp pain in her nose soften to a dull ache. “You know, I am curious about one thing. What do you think about Odette?”