Rebels & Mutineers is set in modern day New Orleans, Louisiana. R&M is fueled by player's plots and group input.
Supernatural people have always had their place in society, hidden in plain sight or locked away for their own protection. New Orleans, a haven for the strange and mysterious and a magnet for the supernatural.
Established: Oct. 27th, 2018 Recently Updated Posts && Recently Updated Threads
05.11.19
As the community reels from the untimely death of Lucia Lovelle, life has to move on. Primrose readies for the annual Prom celebration! Keep your eye out for a event board and have fun!
02.27.19
It's not too late to vote for February's OTM winners! The winners for January, keep an eye out on your messages for your winner's graphics for your signature. Already voted? Make sure you check out the Mardi Gras event board! Party up, have a good time, and enjoy!
Ah, yes. December. The season of giving. For Nerys Oswald, that meant giving the gift of booty calls more often than not. This weekend, however, her time was being spent being a little more productive than just hoeing around. Every first Saturday of December, Primrose Academy holds a huge and lavish fundraising affair – this year was an extravagant silent auction. Donations from every name in Primrose were there in the auditorium. The lights had been dimmed in the white marble halls, making the golden filigreed pillars reflect a warm iridescent light. On the far left of the entrance to the hall were all of the paintings, drawings, photography, and other art pieces. On the right were antiques, furnishings, a couple of luxury cars. The middle split the two, having all the other miscellaneous items, and most importantly, the food and drinks.
A sip of expensive champagne easily slid down Nerys’s throat as she monitored the room. The elite of the elite were in attendance tonight, along with all of the staff at Primrose. It wasn’t necessarily a ‘mandatory’ function, but Nerys highly suggested all made an appearance. Saving face in front of benefactors was one of the things that came with working at this prestigious school. Nerys knew how to play the system – knew how to get what she wanted. She was clever like that. Some said it made her heartless; she viewed it as fulfilling tactical needs. It wasn’t her fault not everyone could compartmentalize like she could.
Standing in the entryway, Nerys pleasantly smiled and welcomed each of her guests as they entered the large auditorium. As much as she wanted to portal over to the Gorgon’s Head and whisk Declan away into the night, she had priorities. And you don’t get far in life if you don’t prioritize. So, Nerys would stay there, shaking hands and batting eyelashes for the whole night, and if someone happened to come along and shake things up, she would welcome them with open arms.
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Dec 6, 2018 0:13:09 GMT
all the pieces lie where they fell...
♠️
Strongly encouraged
Monday remembered what it was to be strongly encouraged. His parents had strongly encouraged him to attend an Ivy league school. His coaches had strongly encouraged him to go to LSU. The banks strongly encouraged him to rethink his business plan. This was one of the few times that Monday followed through with those gentle guiding words. To be fair, this was the first time the one encouraging him was the one signing his paychecks.
He sighed as he chatted politely with one of Primrose's many affluent supporters.
"I don't know why you threw away such a promising career, Monday."
That was all anyone wanted to talk to him about. Remember when you sacked that such and such, how many interceptions did you catch, you had more return yards than any defensive men in your division! He was sick of listening to mentions of who he used to be or what he could have been.
"Just wasn't meant to be. I didn't think I'd be able to keep pace with some of the other athletes out there."
"Nonsense! You were NFL material. You should ha-"
"Ah, I'm sorry, friend, my current duty calls. One of my chefs is beckoning me. If you'll excuse me," Monday smiled politely, biting back the bile rising in his gullet as he sidestepped his rabid fan and beelined toward one of the waiters serving our'dourves. There had obviously been no need for him to speak with those catering the events. Monday had been given express instruction that once the event was in full swing he was to leave everything else to his staff barring some emergency.
His betters knew that if given the chance the croc would have hunkered down in his kitchen and waited out the storm. It was a good call on his part.
He had always despised these sort of gatherings ever since he was a child. It was made worse by talk of his football career. He felt like some sort of show pony. A curiosity to draw in attention. He doubted that had been Headmistress Nerys' intent. He couldn't shirk the feeling though. He took one of the crostini presented on the plate and popped it into his mouth. He made a show of tsking before storming toward the kitchen in full commitment to his act.
He looked over his shoulder and stopped when he neared the entrance. "Oh mon dieu, can't we talk about anything besides football." he groaned, crossing his arms over his chest. He felt safe near the outskirts of the event. Most of those in attendance wanted to socialize and gossip and that drew them to the center and deeper into the auditorium. So far removed from the action he stood out like a sore thumb.
The towering figure, dressed in his charcoal grey suit was easy to pick out even in the crowd. Even dressed in his best attire and knowing most of the guest Monday felt out of place. He reached up and massaged the back of his neck, attempting to soothe the foul mood that had overshadowed his usual jubilant demeanor. Topaz eyes scanned the crowd for some sort of lifeline, someone who he could pass the coming hours with.
See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.
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Post by Rowen Marcella Oswald on Dec 6, 2018 0:34:42 GMT
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Rowen Oswald never made it a point to be in the spotlight. She preferred the wings, where it was a bit colder but where she could expect a little bit more room to breathe. She practically had her assigned standing position on the edge of the annual fundraiser; she had worn the floorboards of the auditorium in her little corner, greeting with a small, too-quick smile any patrons that accidentally got too close to her. No one recognized her as a teacher at the illustrious school, to her delight, and after a wan smile, they would usually wander off once more, leaving her to breathe a bit more deeply.
There was something about getting dressed up and sparkling that frightened her, so she rarely chose to do it. With Nerys, however, choices were never really choices, so she would bear the weight for another year. And for the year after that, and the year after that, and so on until she was too tired to lift the weight of the diamond bracelet on her wrist. Even then, Nerys might prop her up and find a suitable dress for her still. The thought made her smile behind her flute of champagne. Still full, it steadily heated in her hand, but she sipped from it leisurely, watching the people go by.
Nerys was somewhere out there, in the crowd. She was dazzling people left and right, if Rowen knew her sister at all. Nerys was like that when she had a mission, and rarely did she ever stop until she accomplished it. That was another reason Rowen kept to the wings; it kept her out of Nerys’s war path. She wanted to keep her head down, people-watch, and not feel like something to be polished for auction. That was all she asked for in life.
She surveyed the crowd once more, turning the flute in her long-nailed fingers. Her nails were perfectly manicured; she had stopped biting them a long time ago, at her mother’s insistence. Heaven forbid she had looked bedraggled, after all. Keeping those thoughts at bay, she connected gazes with another faculty member, who looked like he mostly shared her desire to be anywhere but there. She raised her glass towards him, noticing that he also stood on the outside perimeter of the event. Mr. Beauchene, with his crossed arms, looked as comfortable there as she felt.
Maybe misery would like company, she mused. Abandoning the barely-drained flute, she gathered her flowing skirt and made her way towards him, taking the long way ‘round. She couldn’t bear to cross the crowded floor. “Mr. Beauchene, good evening,” she greeted him once she reached him, her voice still quiet among the rising noise of the event. “I suppose you weren’t convinced about this being optional either, were you?” She was used to Nerys, had had thirty-two years to be; others were not so lucky.
Post by Joshua Eliot Holmes on Dec 7, 2018 3:45:08 GMT
Josh stood in front of the mirror, frowning at the bowtie that hung around his neck. Somehow, it didn’t quite feel like it belonged there, like it was someone else’s bowtie that he ended up wearing home after a night of drinking because he somehow thought it would be hilarious to trade. Frowning, he tugged it off and picked out one of his regular ties and slid it around his neck, tying it and tightening it. Well. At least it matched. He had never liked getting dressed up to this level of fancy, and he certainly didn’t like doing it to go mingle with people who had next to no interest to talking to him. The people that were going to be congregating downstairs had probably never even been remotely close to the military themselves, and those that did probably had no interest in actually talking to him about it. He wasn’t the kind of person who really knew how to make idle chat with people who were far richer than he was and who he was supposed to… schmooze with? Even the idea of it made him want to retreat back into the nice, warm chair that he had sitting in the corner of his room and avoid the whole night.
To be quite honest, if it he hadn’t been told that teachers were strongly encouraged to attend, he might have ditched out on the whole thing. But the warning was there, and he knew better than to go against what his boss wanted. The fact that he may or may not be a little afraid of her might have also been the final deciding factor. He at least hoped that someone he knew—be it Rowan or anybody else—would be there to distract him from the mountains of guests determined to talk to him about nothing that he had any actual interest in.
With one final look in the mirror, and one tug on the corner of his penguin suit to get it to lie flat, Josh was out the door, and before long, walking into the room that he had been instructed to arrive at. To be fair, it was beautifully decorated, but Josh made his way towards the alcohol and took a flute of champagne, already wrinkling his nose but taking a sip anyways. It was good, and it provided him with a familiar warm feeling that might ease his tension about the entire affair a little bit more. However, he eventually found himself standing very near his boss, Nerys Oswald. With a slight, and slightly awkward, smile, Josh greeted her. “Good evening Nerys. Everything looks stunning, as usual.” Was he already thinking about ways to get out of what would likely be an awkward and stilted conversation so he would not monopolize her time? Well, maybe, but he was coming up empty, and he particularly didn’t want to be rude. After all, she was his boss. “Anybody in particular I need to charm?” His half smile pulled over his lips as he glanced her way, wondering if maybe he was making a mistake in his choice of conversation partners.
Sitting in her swiveled chair, Anna glanced down at her phone as her make-up artist fawned over her. Her eyes were dark, full of glitter. Her lips were nude and glossy. Her hair was in an updo, showing off her elegantly sun kissed neck, a delicate golden chain hanging from it. Her dress was gold and covered in glitter. The straps were thin, almost non-existent. You could gently tug on her dress and the straps would snap. The neckline was plunging, reaching halfway to her belly button. A slit ran up her right leg, stopping midthigh. Her heels accented the dress: gold and shiny. There was not a single detail Miss Smith had forgotten. When it came to dressing up, she knew how to do it.
She tipped the make-up artist, kissing his stubbly cheek as she made her way out the door. Vanya was staying with a friend tonight, which meant Anna had the house to herself. Maybe she would bring home a friend. She honestly wasn’t sure how she felt about having a special friend over tonight. She was exhausted from the week at school, and this function would last until well after midnight. A nice warm bubble bath and wine sounded just perfect to end the night.
She greeted her boss, Nerys, when she arrived, not staying around too long. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the woman yet. There was something about her that Anna couldn’t resist, but there was also something about her (maybe the fact that they were both strong willed) that made her want to stay away from the woman. She was not trying to start any type of drama, especially since her little one went to school here. She would be polite and courteous until Vanya decided to leave. After that, she would decide how she felt about her boss. She was on her fourth glass of champagne, gently taking it from the silver platter it was served to her on. She laughed (fake laugh, of course) at the random small jokes people from the community had made. The longer she stood there, the better that bubble bath sounded.
After the fifth awful joke, she excused herself, making her way towards the corner of the room. She needed someone new and fresh to talk to. The conversation was becoming stale, and the alcohol was making her less tolerant of it. She accidently bumped into a smaller woman.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, dear.”
She exclaimed, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder to steady herself. The bubbles were really making her brain feel fuzzy. She noticed the tall drink of water she was chatting with, giving him a big, charming smile.
“Am I interrupting anything?”
She asked the two, eyes focusing on the smaller woman she had bumped into, hand gently running down Ro’s arm until she let it fall at her own side. Anna was an inch shy of being six feet tall, and the heels made her well over that threshold.
Jasper buttoned up his suit, rubbing elbows with the rich was as part of his DNA as how to make a proper cup of tea, or how to colonize nations. Jasper walked into his kitchen, poured some food in the silver bowls for his dogs, and checked their water dishes. He had been working late a few more nights than he would have liked, and he knew that his greyhounds missed him. There was so much that he was working on, it had to be done. He and Charlie were going to change the world, but he knew that there were people who wouldn't want to see it done. He grinned when his pets started to attack the bowls of kibble and let it go flying everywhere. He scratched them both behind the ears and bid them a goodnight.
He made his way to the Primrose event, enjoying how decadent everything seemed to be, without tripping over itself to prove how wealthy they could be. Jasper took a flute of champagne and watched the crowds moving around. He would have to thank the host of the party for providing them with such a good time. He scanned the crowd for his old friend and grinned when he finally spotted her talking to another man with auburn hair. He approached the duo, hoping that he wasn't interrupting anything between them. As long as he's known Nerys, it was always a possibility.
"Nerys," He greeted her, kissing one of her cheeks. "It's so much to see you again, thank you for the invitation my dear." He wasn't a Primrose staff, but he was an alumni and Nerys had asked him to come. He glanced at the other man in their little trio and held his hand out for him, "Hello, I'm Dr. Jasper Blackthorn."
He wanted to keep up appearances within this world, he had to show people that he could be the charming face of a community. Inside of Monroeville, inside of his isolation cells that he built with Charlie was the only place he could be his truest and most authentic self. Standing in a room full of people flaunting their wealth all around each other, it was where he could put on his most famously charming face and self.
The evening was going along swimmingly – groups of people were talking animatedly, Nerys noted a few bid wars that would only end well for the school, and a fair amount of people were harassing her beautiful employees. While not necessarily a fun time for them, it provided Nerys enough entertainment, and generally opened up the pockets of the rich snobs trying to provoke them. Out of the corner of her eye, Nerys noted Culinary Arts teacher Monday Beauchene being tormented by other alumni insisting he should’ve stuck with football. Smirking, she shook her head, and, if Monday was paying attention, he would’ve noticed the headmistress tossing a snarky wink in his direction.
Sipping on her flute of champagne, Nerys made small talk with any and all that approached her. Smooth talking money out of people was one of her many talents, it worked hand in hand with her greatest asset – seducing people. With a pout of her lip and the batting of some eyelashes she could have anything she wanted from just about anyone.
One of the holdouts approached Nerys – the current history teacher at Primrose, Joshua Holmes. Nerys gave him a pleasant smile and handshake in greeting. While in most other settings, seduction was a wonderful game to her, this wasn’t the time or place. Another one of her strengths – Nerys was almost neurotically compartmentalized. The way she could turn off certain parts of her brain was eerie. So, in any other setting, she’d be gunning for Josh, but tonight she was on a mission – one that didn’t include him. “Mr. Holmes, lovely seeing you here.” Veiled words, meaning ‘Good thing you came, otherwise we would be having words come Monday morning.’
“You clean up well yourself.” It wasn’t a blatant lie, he clearly didn’t come from the same cut of cloth as most of the people attending the gala tonight, but Nerys suspected that came more from the way he held himself more than the clothes he wore. She knew of his previous work experience in the military, and while there was pride in that work, it was something that nearly tangibly differentiated him from the others. Old rich didn’t like different. New rich, however… Eyes scanning the room Nerys was looking for the clique of recently acquired riches. They were found in another corner of the room, oogling over some abstract painting which Nerys was certain a four year old painted. She flagged down one of the wait staff circling the floor, and handed Josh two flutes of champagne. “Now I know you don’t want to spend your evening talking to your boss. See that group over there gawking at that hideous painting? Take Rowen with you, I’m sure the two of you can come up with some stimulating conversation between all of you. Make their pockets bleed and you’ll be in for a lovely Christmas bonus.” Nerys pat his shoulder and sent him away with another faux charming smile.
Before Nerys gave Josh the final shoo, another person approached the headmistress. “Well, well, Jasper.” Another charming smile. She’d need a drink and a good fuck after all of this. He politely kissed her cheek in greeting, and Nerys returned the favor. “I must confess, I didn’t think you would be in attendance tonight.” The two went back to their Primrose days – Jasper was a fair amount older than she was (or at least it seemed like such an age gap when you’re sixteen), but they were both very much aware of each other. They were both… Ambitious. Exceedingly so. In ways that would often put off their classmates, but something that they admired in each other (or at least Nerys admired it in him).
“I’ve been hearing good things going on over at Monroeville, Jasper. Just don’t tell me you’re here to ride the coattails of this fundraiser – if you swoop in on my donations I will be sorely disappointed.” Her comment was only made partially in jest as a smirk played on her pale features. Admittedly, Jasper was an attractive man, but there was something about him that gave even Nerys negative vibes. She could admire him and his hard work from afar.
Post by Gideon "Monday" Beauchene on Dec 22, 2018 0:41:53 GMT
all the pieces lie where they fell...
♠️
From the corner of his eye, Monday caught sight of the devilish wink directed his way. Nerys had a profound effect on the man. She was his boss and because of that he had a deep respect for her. He also held a healthy amount of fear of her. Despite that, he found her witty and immensely charming. Guilt tickled his heart as he remembered seeing her picture on the evOlvd app. He hadn't the heart to swipe right nor the courage to deny it. Instead, he simply shut his phone delaying the inevitable rejection he would pass. He gave a tight-lipped wan smile before she was occupied by other attendees.
It was in a moment that was too perfect to plan the woman's sister met Monday's eye. Rowen was much more approachable than her sister. She didn't bear the intensity of Nerys. She was distant in a different sort of way. Unlike Nerys who seemed to stand above everyone Ro seemed to put up her guard and keep them from coming closer. In the handful of months that Monday had worked at Primrose, he had never struck up a meaningful conversation with the woman.
Monday raised his brows, signaling his true feelings about this evenings event. Ro must have taken that as the go-ahead sign as she began snaking her way through the throng of wealth and privilege, avoiding the noman's land that was the center of the room.
"A pleasure, as always Ms. Oswald," Monday said cordially. Reptilian eyes rolled under heavy lids at her comment. "I had an inkling that our headmistress would be quite distraught if I failed to attend. I thought it to be the gentlemanly thing to do to at least make an appearance. You know, for her sake." His voice dripped with dead-pan sarcasm but it lacked bite that most would have. There was no malice in his words, simply good humor. He curled his lip at the jest and looked down to his coworker.
"I see that you weren't immune to your sister's summons either." Monday was hardly aware of the relationship between the two of them besides the superficial nature that one could glean with a cursory glance. "You know, I've only worked here for a short time but I have the distinct impression that when Nerys makes a request it usually isn't something one can refuse easily. My sister's the same way." It had been quite some time since Monday had thought of his sister but he saw it as common ground for the two. There was little time to see how solid that ground was as someone stumbled into them.
Monday's hand shot out faster than the finest human athlete landing on Anna's shoulder as he helped steady her. The first thing Monday noticed about the woman was that she was tall, very tall. Even in her stilettos, she didn't quite reach Monday's impressive stature. "Non, not interrupting at all. We were just bonding over our mutual adoration for fundraisers."
"Ms. Smith, yes? Delighted to make your acquaintance. My name is Gideon Beauchene though nearly everyone calls me Monday. I teach Culinary Arts here." Monday removed his hand from her shoulder, noting the dazzling display of pearly white teeth she flashed at him. "Enjoying the champagne?" he asked, the scent of it permeating her natural aroma. The shifter wondered just how much the woman had knocked back. Monday had made the decision not to partake of this evening's refreshments. He had a nagging feeling that if he did he might imbibe more than he wanted and the last thing he needed was to get completely torn up in front of his new boss and coworkers.
Post by Joshua Eliot Holmes on Jan 9, 2019 3:21:47 GMT
Josh didn’t typically do well at formal functions. It wasn’t that he didn’t know how to behave during them, he was actually really good at talking to people in settings like this. In some respects, it was the pomp and the glamour of these situations; it had never really made him feel comfortable in the past, and it was not something that he had gotten used to even in his years as a teacher at Primrose Academy. Every single day, he interacted with the snot-nosed kids that had a tendency to represent the worst in society, and he would much rather be at home getting some grading done, or out with his friends, in clothes that were actually comfortable, maybe with a beer in hand, definitely with good music in the background. Hell, even if he had someone by his side to make the evening a little more bearable, that would be something. Instead, he had managed to find himself face-to-face with Nerys Oswald, a woman that, if he was being honest, intimidated the hell out of him.
“Always a pleasure to see you, too.” He grinned, in spite of the veiled meaning that he had a feeling she was trying to convey. To be quite frank, he had talked to her for one reason: to make sure that she had seen him there, and so that come Monday morning, she wouldn’t feel the urge to come seek him out and interrogate and/or reprimand him from skipping out on the event. Besides, he did feel obligated to help shake down the wealthy people of New Orleans to support the school that he worked at. Truth be told, there were times when he wondered if he was in the right place, despite being here for ten years. As much as he loved teaching, he wondered if there was somewhere else that he could be doing that, somewhere where people needed his help a lot more than these spoiled kids did. And yet, he was still here, still smiling at people he couldn’t stand and trying to help shake them down for money.
And before he knew it, Nerys was handing him not one, but two flutes of champagne and giving him a mission of his own. One that apparently involved sweet talking a few of the new money people that had always gotten under his skin. Make no mistake, he didn’t mind celebrating those who had made a name for themselves, but the way that they tended to lord themselves over everybody else did bother him just a little. “Yes ma’am.” Before he could finish the thought, however, a man appeared and addressed him directly.
“Dr. Blackthorn,” Josh smiled at the man, looking at his hand before apologetically raising his hands, both of which were occupied with a champagne glass. “Forgive me, I would shake your hand, but I’ve been sent on a mission by our esteemed headmistress. It is a pleasure to meet you, I hope you enjoy your evening.” With a slight nod, he turned away from the duo, heading towards the trio that was Rowen, Gideon Beauchene, and a woman whose name he honestly couldn’t remember, though he was pretty sure it was Anna. There was a part of him that wondered if Nerys had a sixth sense for things, since he’d had a bit of a crush on Rowen for a while, but there was certainly a part of him that doubted that would be the case, since she seemed more concerned about securing funding from the school on this particular night.
Coming up behind Rowen, Josh grinned at the group, and held the flute of champagne out to her. “Ro, your sister is absolutely terrifying, but she sent me over here with this.” He chuckled, turning and looking at the other two members of the group, before looking back towards her, regret and just a little bit of anxiety laced into his grin. “Well, she sent me over here with that… and a mission. Apparently you and I are supposed to go convince some potential donors to drop a lot of money on a painting.” He turned to the other two people of the group, shooting an apologetic smile their way. “I’m so sorry, I hope I wasn’t interrupting.” A stupid thing to say, he definitely was and he knew it. He turned to the blonde next to him, holding out his hand to hers with the intent to shake it, should she offer up her own. “I don’t believe we’ve met properly, I’m Josh Holmes.”
See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.
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Post by Rowen Marcella Oswald on Jan 12, 2019 4:07:44 GMT
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Rowen had decided that she liked Gideon Beauchene the moment her sister had brought him aboard at Primrose. Often, Nerys’s hires reflected the haughty and rich nature of the school; they all seemed to have the same veneer as the polished columns that held up the school itself. Gideon had the sort of air that put even her at ease, and despite his size and stature, he seemed rather warm. She only hope he could keep it while working under Nerys. From the way he replied to her question, she had high hopes for him. Witty without the sort of sardonic nature she herself could even adopt. She chuckled her approval at his words.
“I suppose nothing in Louisiana is ever complete without a creole crocodile.” She was a transplant herself, but she had been in the state long enough to pick up on what was important to it. “I am sure that Ms. Oswald would have positively wept if you hadn’t shown. Would have been an absolute wreck.” She let her gaze wander once more as she tried to triangulate her position in the room according to her sister’s. If she could stay out of Nerys’s way, the whole event would pass that much smoother. She spotted the woman among the crowd once more, speaking to Josh and then another man. That Jasper Blackthorn, a man who radiated too much of the Primrose charm that made Ro uneasy. He was a nice enough man, she supposed, and at least he was taking Nerys’s attention for the moment.
When he mentioned her sister once more, she tried a smile, but it was a little shaky. She always felt like she was adjusting to life working under Nerys, and it had been nearly three years. Most hardly knew the two were sisters, but those that did seemed to assume a sort of closeness between the two of them. That could not have been further from the truth. “Nerys doesn’t give out requests, Mr. Beauchene. Assuming them to be such is a grave mistake most new teachers make; you’re already ahead of the curve,” she informed him, that sardonic nature creeping into her voice just a little. She had already broke her rule about being happy and clear as a bell at the function, as though she were ever going to manage that. Still, she noted the comment about his sister.
Before she could say further, someone bumped into her from behind. Still reeling, Ro was dimly aware the woman was apologizing and touching her. She blinked a little bit as the hand trailed down her arm, gathering her wits. She appeared off-guard for only a second before throwing up another generous smile. The attention was new, but the woman - she recognized her as the PE teacher - was not. Though they did not have much occasion to work closely, she knew that Ms. Smith had been at Primrose as an instructor for just about the same amount of time she herself had been. That was about where their similarities ended, as far as Ro knew. Anna was tall, impeccably dressed, and though a little buzzed, she seemed to fit in on the Primrose auction floor in a way Ro did not. The neckline, for one, was certainly something geared toward separating the donors from their money.
“Interrupting? Of course not.” Ro’s mind jerked into thought once more as her eyes settled on Anna’s impeccably made-up face. “Just an impromptu faculty meeting over the important of attending functions like this. It’s all for the kids, after all.” Monday’s steadying hand on the woman’s shoulder had been a good call; she was practically swaying in her stilettos. She thought to comment on it, but the culinary arts teacher beat her to the punch in a much more tactful way than she would have been able to accomplish.
Another was approaching, but Ro was a bit more ready this time. It was just Josh, the history teacher. He had been there longer than the rest of them combined, and she had no idea how he stood it. All the parents, all the stuffy events, everything, and he bore it all with such an open, artless grace. It was no wonder that he had been one of the grounding forces of Primrose for her. She took the glass he offered. Nerys certainly was terrifying, especially when she was on the warpath. “A mission straight from the higher-ups. How did we get so lucky?” she asked through her usual ask-no-questions, get-no-answers smile. She turned that towards the other members and let their introductions be made.
