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!
Post by Prudence Victoria Lovelle on May 8, 2019 22:14:18 GMT
Dear Prudence,
won't you let me see you smile?
tw: death of a sibling, grief
The walls were closing in. Not literally, of course, that would be horrifying, but the walls of her heart were moving and crashing all the same. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real. Sometimes she felt as though the world had stopped spinning and her momentum had flung her into space, where she was hurtling far past everything she thought she had known and loved. Prue didn’t “express her emotions in productive ways.” That was written across the top of the file she had snuck out of the main office once. How the fuck was emotion supposed to be productive? How the fuck was she supposed to channel all this energy into something useful and beautiful? Lucy was dead. Lucy died. Nothing in the world felt particularly beautiful at that moment, and she felt utterly fucking useless. She had been living it up in fucking Phalanx, and what had Lucy been going through the past three years? What kind of place was Monroeville that it could let someone like Lucy die?
Grief was a monster, and it thrashed in her ribcage and tore her heart to shreds. She couldn’t focus on anything, and since the moment she knew it was her sister, her hands had begun to flash, gently, every once and a while, as though they were trying to burn off the excess of her energy. It didn’t fucking work. She was stranded between too tired to live and too wired to sleep, and though she had been offered sleeping pills, she doubted they would help. Nothing would help. She ruined one of Teddy's old bats against one of the stronger trees in the yard. The bat went dead in her blistered hands, the crooked vibrations ringing up into her jaw, and she left a dent in the soft-trunked tree. Still, she felt hollow and full, clenched and too loose, like the world was splitting at the seams and sliding in two different directions.
She had come up to the roof to try and feel stable, which didn’t seem too smart. Going to the highest point to feel the earth under you was actually pretty stupid, but it wasn’t like anyone was asking her to think clearly at the moment. They weren’t asking anything of her at the moment. It was all too much and nothing at all, and it even made the empty roof feel like it was full of ghosts of responsibility and a vacuum that was sucking her breath away. Her family had been splintered before, but it had never been broken. It felt like losing a limb, but she hadn’t expected it to be so permanent. She touched her face gently with her fingers, only for them to come back slick with silent, hot tears. Fuck. She had not been ready for this at all.
Post by Teddy Lane Lovelle on Jun 4, 2019 22:43:02 GMT
the pursuit of perfection
shall be your undoing
There was nothing in his life that could have prepared Teddy for the phone call that he'd received twelve hours ago. The agonizing sound of his brother and sisters sobbing on the other side of the line. Nothing that could have prepared him for his mother wailing when he called home or the breaking voice of his father, nor the words that left his mouth.
Lucy was gone.
She'd died, hungry, scared, and alone.
And he'd been in Florida, playing fucking baseball.
He shouldn't have felt guilty. The rationale part of his brain told him that there was nothing that he could have done to make things better. That he couldn't have saved her. His rationality could go and fuck itself.
He didn't listen to logic when he told the general manager that he was leaving to deal with family issues. He wasn't in the mood to listen to anyone at the time. Tuning out his GM as he yelled after him that there was a series starting today or whatever words came after. Probably some threat that he wouldn't be a spot waiting for him if he came back.
Teddy didn't care.
With single minded devotion he packed up his meager belongings and loaded up his ancient Ford truck. The engine sputtered to life and Teddy began the long trek home.
It was an eleven hour ride from Fort Myers to New Orleans. Eleven hours spent in silence as he tried to drive through the tears. Twice his emotions had gotten the better of him and he was forced to pull over to sob into his steering wheel. Twice he pulled over and pounded his fists into his dashboard, tearing his knuckles and staining the gray plastic a dirty red.
He felt like he had to vomit, like he should just curl up into a ball and follow after Lucy. He couldn't though.
He had to keep moving and he had to get it all out now. He had to work through the anguish and turmoil that threatened to consume him. His parents needed him to be strong. Prue, Nellie, and Jude needed him to be strong. Lucy needed him to be strong.
When Teddy pulled into the familiar driveway the sun had long since set and only a few lights illuminated the home he'd known for the last seven years. In that moment it didn't feel like home. Once he stepped inside he wouldn't be allowed to falter like he had for the last half day. He couldn't be burdened by his own sorrow. He needed to choke back his tears and square his shoulders. Once he came home he'd have to shoulder whatever burden waited for him.
He took another steadying breath before looking out from his windshield. He saw her in that moment. There was no mistaking the wispy figure of Prudence, at least, not for him. Even at this distance he could tell her and Nellie apart. He'd always been able to tell.
The mere sight of her gave him the courage to start moving. One foot in front of the other, he told himself as he climbed the porch stairs of Phalanx. He repeated that mantra as he transitioned through the doorway and up three more familiar flights of stairs.
He used those moments to gather his thoughts and ready himself for the sight of his sister falling to pieces. They passed much to quickly and he felt completely unprepared as he opened the door.
"Hey there, slugger," he called out. It was a corny nickname. Something he used to call her all the time when they played together. He instantly regretted using it in that moment but, uncharacteristically, in that moment Teddy had no idea what to do.
"Don't tell me you've been up here all night." He wore his concern openly as he stood facing Prue.
Teddy Lovelle was home and all it had cost him to get there was eleven hours, a pair of bloody knuckles, and a blown chance at his dream.
Post by Prudence Victoria Lovelle on Jun 7, 2019 2:54:10 GMT
Dear Prudence,
won't you let me see you smile?
tw: death of a sibling, grief
At some point, when the dusk had turned to evening and the evening had bled into night, she had begun to cry. She wasn’t sure when, and it wasn’t loud. It was like every time her heart thumped in her chest, it pushed more of the odd, wet tears into the world. She didn’t cry. She wasn’t supposed to fucking cry. Crying was what you did when you were little and your favorite cereal was missing from the pantry. Crying didn’t feel strong enough for what she needed to do. There needed to be more. There needed to be another level of action, but nothing felt right. Screaming was loud and attention-seeking, and she was sure, even if she opened her mouth, no sound would come out. She had her fill of destruction; her hands still ached in her lap. In the world of opposites and oxy morons, where her body and mind and heart all screamed at her to do something, she did nothing. Nothing but sit there and cry silently. Like a child.
She was so young. And so stupid.
She could hear his old truck before she saw it in the deepness of the night. The light of the streetlights already bathed the road in front of Phalanx in a pool of light that her eyes couldn’t, especially clouded with tears, decode. But she knew he was coming. It was Teddy, and he always came when they needed him, even though they were much older now. He was perfect. But not even he could have stopped Lucy’s death. Watching the vague shape of his truck pull into the Phalanx property, she found that she wanted to blame him. She wanted to scream out and swing wild. For just a moment, she fancied that it was his fault. When he decided to go away and leave them, he sealed their fate.
But that wasn’t fucking fair. Nothing about it was fair. It was all shit, and the feeling left as suddenly and ardently as it came, leaving her even more drained.
Her hands flared to life with an intense glow before it abated into the night air. She had no idea what time it was. Everyone else was probably asleep. She hadn’t exactly had time to gauge the reactions of others; she had been so caught up in her own. After they got off the phone with Teddy and she dug the old bat out of the hall closet, she didn’t really bother to talk to anyone. And certainly no one bothered to talk to her. She was in mourning, but she was still Prue. With a bat.
Below her, the truck parked, and he must have headed inside. A part of her hoped he’d stay in there and that she could curl to sleep on the edge of the roof and wake up in the morning in a different world. Maybe she’d roll off in the middle of the night and actually be in a different world.
One where Lucy was.
But the door to the roof opened behind her, nearly screaming on its hinges. Well, maybe it was just regular volume and she was just being sensitive. Either way, she stubbornly wiped the corner of her eyes and twisted to face him. “Hey,” she tried. The sound died in her throat. She swallowed against the lump in her throat and tried again. “Hey,” she croaked. Maybe she was a fucking frog. It was absurd. She almost wanted to laugh.
When he asked his question – no, it wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A command. Teddy was good at that. She turned back to the street below, not able to meet his eyes any longer. “Fine. I won’t tell you that then,” she muttered. Her hands lit then faded once more. She felt like the frog who swallowed a firefly. “You drove straight through.” That wasn’t a question either, but it wasn’t a command.
Post by Teddy Lane Lovelle on Sept 4, 2019 0:28:13 GMT
the pursuit of perfection
shall be your undoing
The sound of Prue’s haggard voice was a knife straight through Teddy’s heart. Even without her less than helpful response he’d already figured she had been up there for some time. She’d probably come up here to fall apart in peace.
Prudence was like Teddy in that regard.
Too stubborn to let anyone else see her break. He doubted even Nellie had seen much of her since the news first broke and Jude… Poor Jude, he was probably holed up in his room doing much the same. He wanted to gather them all together. To pull all of them close and tell them that everything would be okay, that Lucy was in a better place. He wanted to but he couldn’t. He couldn’t lie to them like that because, honestly, he had no idea if things would ever be okay again.
Besides, the best place for Lucy was right there with them.
He didn’t bother to ask her if she’d eaten. The answer was probably the same as his, as all of the Lovelle’s. Bodily needs forgotten since news of Lucy had dropped. It was almost as if they had to focus solely on breathing, on staying alive, and figuring out some way to make the empty space where their sister used to stop hurting. Everything else was just background noise.
He let out a deep exhale. They all needed him but right now his biggest concern was the girl in front of him. Of his siblings, Prudence was the most likely to act upon the feelings that threatened to consume them. So angry and prone to giving in to her urges. The headstrong nature that he loved so much about her was what would likely be her undoing.
He let her retort hang in the air for a moment before responding.
I did, twice, and I bawled my eyes out both times. The correction died before it could pass Teddy’s lips. He couldn’t muster up the nerve to tell Prue that he’d pulled over to breakdown in his own arms or how he’d beaten his knuckles raw against the dashboard. Instead, he gave the slightest shrug of his shoulders. Not that she could see it as she tried her best to avoid looking at him.
“Yeah, I needed to get here as soon as possible and see you guys.” Teddy was fumbling for things to say. The things that did come to mind sounded cliche, empty promises used to placate the grieving.
“I’m sorry,” he mouthed the apology. He wasn’t sure what he was sorry for. For their loss, for abandoning them, for everything? He’d spent ten hours trying to build up a strong front to display to his sisters and brother. Now, finally faced with them it was beginning to crumble. So much for being the pillar of support, he thought sardonically. The self-criticism prompted him to move, closing the gap between him and Prue. He lingered, leaving only an arm's breadth of roof between them.
“I’m sorry,” the words were audible this time. “I should have been here for you.” There was nothing he could tell Prue that would take the pain away.
"I'm here now though." Teddy reached out and put a hand on his sister's shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere again." He didn't have anywhere to go. His phone had blown up the first hour since he left Fort Myers. After that he'd turned it off and was sure there were a slew of messages. He had a general notion of what they said.