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!
See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.
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Post by Rowen Marcella Oswald on Dec 9, 2018 23:53:26 GMT
[googlefont="Courgette"]
I waited 'til I saw the sun.
Rowen Oswald was in the kitchen. Again. It was an old coping mechanism one of the countless therapists who saw her as a young adult suggested. Take all your unwanted energy and channel it into something nice for someone else. A plate of cookies, a painting, a greeting card. Just channel it. She had stopped truly listening after a plate of cookies, and now, anytime she felt the storm brewing in her mind, she made a beeline for the kitchen and started taking out ingredients. She had to have everything lined up, in order, along with all the measuring cups, spoons, and scoops. It was a sort of manifestation of the disorder in her mind, which she could do very little to order.
Today, she had decided to make Christmas cookies, enough to feed the students and faculty that tended to wander through the school on the weekend. She knew the ratios, had the recipe printed out, and was measuring out the flour. Light music played from her phone’s speaker, easy listening peppered with select adult contemporary. Everything felt clean and light, easy. Just like the dulcet tones of Norah Jones, who Rowen sang to gently under her breath.
I left you by the house of fun. Don’t know why I didn’t come.
She switched to humming as she dumped the flour into the stand mixer, almost losing her light mood when it billowed out like a white cloud. She waved the flour from her face and stepped back so it could settle. Already, her mind was narrowing as she thought only of the task at hand. Her voice rose gently with the song and followed the arc of music. Baking helped relieve a bit of the tension she carried between her shoulder blades and allowed her to lower her shoulders from her ears. Tension, they had told her, was always going to be her worst enemy; if she tensed up too long and too hard, her body might try to “heal” itself in an erroneous way, might lock up forever. Of course, telling a child under constant stress not to tense up had been a losing game from the jump.
She hand-stirred the dry ingredients together as the song changed. A brassy blues song queued up next, and as the first notes played, Ro was too engrossed to notice someone else enter the kitchen. In fact, it took her nearly half the song to even glance up from her mixer. As she turned to grab the next ingredient, the sight of another startled her so that she almost dropped the measuring cup. “Goodness, you scared the daylights out me,” she apologized, all but diving for her phone to turn the music down. It wasn’t that loud anyway, but polite overruled that. “I’m sorry I’m taking up too much room; if you need counter space, I’ll gladly move.”
Post by Joshua Eliot Holmes on Jan 11, 2019 23:34:36 GMT
Josh was never a big baker. He could make cookies without burning them, or he could manage to whip up a cake if he needed to, but for the most part he tended to live in the realm of cooking, which yes, he felt was much different. With cooking, things didn’t usually need to be measured, and you could experiment a little more without having a total disaster on your hands. He had seen more than one batch of cookies come out awful just because he had put a hint too much or too little of an ingredient, and since he was kind of clumsy and incredibly forgetful, he didn’t like having that much responsibility on his hands. Truth be told, he had a tendency to go with purchased goods more often than not. Locally owned and made, of course, but purchased all the same.
When he had made his way downstairs. After a long day at work, he was more than ready to head out for a walk, maybe grab a beer, anything that he could think of to relax. However, as he was crossing by the door to the kitchens, something gave him a reason to pause. There weren’t a lot of students left at Primrose Academy, since most of them had gone home for the winter break, but there were a few whose parents were going somewhere fabulous and didn’t want them to come with, or who would rather just spend time getting things ready for the next semester. And, it appeared, there was at least one who had made their way into the kitchens. Normally, Josh was a pretty staunch “mind your business” kind of guy, but he knew that someone young could make a disaster in the Primrose kitchens, and he felt a kind of obligation to making sure that the school that hired him didn’t burn down because someone didn’t know what they were doing. At the very least, he could help them out and be on his way.
Quietly, Josh poked his head into the room, and was surprised to find none other than Rowen Oswald standing in front of the kitchen counter, mixing away to the beat off the music coming from her phone. For a moment, Josh stood there, noting the way that she moved and the lightness in her step. There was so much that seemed dark in Rowen’s world, her every movement seemed laden with sadness, but now… there was a life in her that Josh couldn’t recall seeing in quite a while. It brought a smile to his face, which was apparently just enough movement for her to notice that he was there in the room with her. Staring at her. Like a creep. Color rose to his cheeks as he straightened up from where he had been leaning against the doorway. “Oh, uh, shoot, I’m so sorry.” The rushed words spilled from his lips, though he did step a little further into the room, if only so that they wouldn’t have to shout the words at each other.
Rowen turned the music down, and Josh reached up to rub at the back of his neck. “No, no, you’re fine… I uh,” he faltered again, trying to find the words to say to her. He’d had a crush on Rowen for a while now, but he’d never said anything because their friendship was strong, and he didn’t want to ruin that. Still, that didn’t mean that he automatically knew what to say without coming off as a creeper. “I was actually headed out to get off campus for a bit when I saw a light on, I was just checking to make sure there weren’t any students about to burn the place down when I saw you.” A small, half smile found its way to his lips. “What are you making, anyways?”
See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.
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Post by Rowen Marcella Oswald on Jan 14, 2019 5:58:25 GMT
[googlefont="Courgette"]
I waited 'til I saw the sun.
Ro’s shock at being walked up on quickly dissolved into a familiar reserve, almost contrite in nature. That seemed to be her way: to live carefully when watched. Truly, that had become her main mode of living, extending into everything she did. If she could be careful, be closed off, be small, she could squeak by; mostly, it worked well enough. People let her be, if they noticed her at all. It let her carry on relatively undisturbed, which was fine enough for her. She never needed or wanted to light up a room or to be a lightning rod of attention.
She sat her phone back down and fought the instinct to look down sheepishly, as though she was caught doing something completely out of the ordinary. It was irrational, but that didn’t seem to stop the anxiety that pounded through her for half a second. “I get so carried away sometimes; I didn’t even hear you come in,” she told him with a small smile. She felt comfortable around Josh; he had an ease of being that rubbed off on her. Very few people could claim to have such an effect on her, especially when she was feeling in a more secluded mood. Had anyone else found her in such a baking fit, she might have felt a bit more put-out, but it was just Josh.
She tried to take up a bit more casual posture, shaking her head. “Nope, no errant students. Just me,” she said with a little laugh. She waved her hand at the ingredients behind her as his question. “Sugar cookies. I’ve been meaning to try out a new recipe, and well...today was as good as any other. Chef is out, so it seemed right.” She ran her hand through her hair and pulled it out of her face. “You were headed off-campus, you said? It’s been so quiet here lately, with the holidays coming and everyone leaving; I don’t blame you,” she queried as she secured her hair with a ponytail holder.
Music grades were not considered as lucrative as history grades; Nerys had made that clear to her before. Still, she understood a bit about the way Primrose seemed to turn stuffy as decorations went up and the kids started clearing out. It was the mad dash to finals and then the emptiness that followed that always got to her; the busy hallways were at a low buzz of activity. Despite that, no one ever knew when a wandering parent or two might drop in, so the pressure to maintain Primrose standards always ramped up for her.
The holidays didn’t seem to have the same effect on Josh. He seemed as calm, cool, and collected as ever. She admired him for it; he seemed to take everything in stride. That was a rare thing at Primrose, who seemed to attract a certain...personality to positions of authority. Her sister was a good example: brilliant but cold, someone who ran the school with the efficiency of a business. Josh, on the other end of the spectrum, was part of the human element that didn’t forget it was human. She genuinely enjoyed his presence and the friendship she could claim from him.
"When I finish the cookies, I can save you some," she offered with a bigger, more relaxed smile. The tension was finally easing out from between her shoulder blades and back, fading away.
There was something that was inherently melancholy about Rowen Oswald, and there was the protective part of Josh that wanted nothing more than to help her rid herself of that. Whether or not that was something that he was actually able to do, or if that role would fall to someone involved in another part of her life, he didn’t know, but he was certainly willing to be there for her regardless. He had been here for a number of years, and from the moment that he had met Rowen, he knew that he wanted to be in her life in some respect. Over time, they had grown close, and he was thankful to count her among one of his friends; lord knew that he needed as many as he could get while at Primrose Academy. He honestly didn’t know who was worse, the students, the parents, or some of their coworkers.
“I get what you mean. Someone could sneak up on me while I’m woodworking and I wouldn’t even know they were there.” Of course, the result of sneaking up on him was a bit more on the dangerous side, if only because he was usually holding some manner of heavy tool that could easily kill someone if thrown hard enough in surprise. There was also the whole impulse of “punch first and ask questions after” when someone snuck up on him, but that was something that he had been working on for a good long time. The smile on her face, and the attempt at relaxing was enough to make him smile. He had seen Ro when she felt like she was being backed into a corner before, and he didn’t seem to have that effect on her. In the beginning of their friendship that was something that he had been concerned about, since she seemed to closed off and reluctant to tell someone that they were making her feel uncomfortable, but that fear had faded over time.
Josh stretched, feeling an ache settle deep in his back from the amount of time that he had been sitting at his desk grading papers. “Yeah, between the lack of the usual rowdy crowd outside my classroom and the dull monotony of grading I was starting to feel a little stir crazy.” A smile crinkled the corner of his eyes as he leaned back against the wall. “If I stayed in there any longer, I might have started climbing the walls.” The mental image of a wandering student coming into his classroom to find him, hanging onto the wall by nothing but fingernails and willpower was amusing to say the least, but he didn’t have any kind of ability that allowed that to happen, and while he might be in good shape, he wasn’t sure that he could achieve that.
It was definitely true that the holidays didn’t seem to affect Josh much; he had always had a unique view of them and a relaxed demeanor. The fact that a random Primrose parent could drop in at any moment didn’t influence his behavior any; he was the same regimented Marine man that he always was. If anything, the addition of parents made his jokes even more groan-worthy, but that was about the only change. The only thing that got to Josh was that he felt a little on the lonely side during the holidays. Sure, he had his family that he could call every year on Christmas, and he had his brothers and sisters scattered around the world, but when it came to actually spending the holidays with someone, he was typically alone. Well, he was either alone or he was sharing the school with the students who hadn’t headed home for the break, and the Professors who were as lonely as he was. Holidays were a time for family, and they were the time of year that he felt most keenly that he didn’t have one of his own.
At the mention of cookies, however, Josh perked up, that bright and carefree light returning to his eyes. “Yeah? I’d love that.” Ro’s cookies were always amazing, and he was more than happy to be the official taste tester if she was offering. “Unless… do you want some help? Or some company. I’m not really the best when it comes to baking.” In his experience, it took a certain kind of delicate touch to be a good baker, and Josh was about as delicate as a bull in a china shop in all situations. Really, it was a miracle that he hadn’t already broken something. “If not that’s fine, feel free to tell me to get lost.” That familiar crinkle at the corners of his eyes came back as he smiled his relaxed smile, that glint of warmth and familiarity in his eye.
See, the luck I've had can make a good man turn bad.
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Post by Rowen Marcella Oswald on May 8, 2019 2:13:23 GMT
[googlefont="Courgette"]
I waited 'til I saw the sun.
Ro was hiding. She knew it, and she still couldn’t stop herself from doing it. It was how deer must feel when they froze in front of headlights, terrified of what was coming but also equally terrified to move. That was her life, stuck between two equally terrible and scary things. On the one hand, she could hole herself up in her home, tap at the new ivory keys of her piano and get used to the silence she thought she wanted. On the other hand, she could dive into people and lose herself against the backdrop of life, where she never had to be authentic and where no one asked much from her at all. Where no one wanted what she was afraid of. Instead, she split the difference and put the manic, unnamable energy into baking and messing up Chef and Monday’s domain. The kitchen was still cleaner than her life, by all accounts, a thought which brought her little comfort.
Josh’s life had changed with Nerys’s permanent vacation to France and fine wine. In a selfish way, it made her feel better. She wasn’t the only one who had to reckon with a life changed and complicated, but she knew she got the better end of the deal. Josh had to take over the duties of headmaster, and heavy could be the head that wears the crown. It was an entirely different world, one that the smooth and fast talking Nerys had excelled in. Josh was new to it, but Ro trusted him and his judgement. She would follow his directives the same she had followed Nerys’s, but she had a feeling she would like his better. His feet were planted firmly on the Louisiana earth, not straddling the line between practical and practically decadent.
“I suppose walking up on baking tools is better than power tools,” she told him with a genuine smile, her first of the day. Or maybe the week. She wasn’t exactly keeping track. Things had gotten stupid lately. Well, no, that wasn’t right. She had gotten stupid lately. But she didn’t want to think about that. She wanted to think about exact measurements and making the best damn sugar cookies she could. That and keeping her shit together as much as she could, before she did something even dumber. “I would prefer being hit with a wooden spoon than a power saw, after all.”
“How are things going in the Ivory Tower, by the way? Are you ready to run off to the French Riviera yet?” That, of course, was unlikely. Unless she had accidentally slept with his ex-current-whatever and had the fact revealed in the most Telenovella way possible. At this point in her life, she wouldn’t discount it. Why not? She tried to undercut her joke with a smile, but even she could feel the ruefulness of it so she dropped it quickly. Headmaster wasn’t an easy job by any stretch of the imagination. To step in half-way through the year with very little preparation would be hard on anybody. Her heart squeezed for him; she could never imagine being in his shoes.
She turned back to her work of stirring the dry ingredients. Her neck cracked with a delicious crackle. She hadn’t been sleeping well or really at all. Feel free to tell me to get lost. She huffed in half-aborted laugh. She was much more likely to get herself lost, but she could only return his relaxed smile. “You are perfectly welcome to stay in the kitchen with me. You can even pick up a spoon and help stir, if you’re feeling overly helpful.” She gestured at the other bowl of flour, salt, and sundry on the counter. “We can just get it mixed and then start on the sugar and butter.” She highly doubted he could mess up the cookies more than she had messed everything else up. Besides, she could overlook lumpy batter if it meant a calm conversation.
