We're going to be working late on some cases tonight. Call when you're home and if anything goes bad, but have fun. Nothing I wouldn't do.
-Dad
Michael looked away from the phone and blinked a few times, his eyes readjusting to the dark after the screen's light slashed through it. The headlights helped, not as bright as his phone but illuminating the back of a car he'd pulled in behind, providing middle ground. The slightly duller light provided less of a contrast, giving his mind more to work with. Vision asserted itself again better than going from bright white to total dark. The Buick rumbled quietly, a cool little shell against the Seattle air, against the traps and expectations of prom night. All the little minefields that could make this the best or worst night of a teenage life. They hadn't shown him a damn rulebook when they suddenly decided he was one of the popular kids.
He couldn't think like that, though. Going into the ring with doubt in your head was suicide. Hadn't he got the hard part over with by asking somebody, getting dressed up and driving out here? He'd almost expected to get laughed off, yet here he was. And he'd look like a damn fool if he chickened out after his folks were obviously giving him some privacy for after he got home. The unspoken assumption was something he tried not to think about.
Instead, he took a moment to take inventory, pulling down the visor above his head and opening up the mirror. Contacts were fine, face and hair had been washed, teeth brushed...
He looked down at himself. Tuxedo could probably use a smoothing down once he was out of the car, but it looked just as good as the past five times he'd checked it. The fabric stretched taut across his muscles, though the jacket had a bit of a slimming effect, and the red rose boutonniere on his lapel actually looked pretty classy. Mike'd be lying if he said it wasn't a good outfit.
Didn't mean he liked it, necessarily. Adjusting the bow tie, he wondered how it was his father could always be walking around in suits and tuxes. Didn't the man need to breathe every now and then? Mike preferred something he could allow to get dirty, that he could run around in, work and play, hit and get hit. Something that could be covered in dirt, sweat and blood and still be salvageable. Dressing up for the sake of dressing up felt like putting himself in a cage.
Well, nothing to be done about it, was there? Stalling wouldn't help anybody, and God help him if he were late to prom. The visor snapped shut, the headlights went off and a deft turn of his wrist silenced the groaning car as he stepped out, smoothing himself down a little before closing the door. Yeah, he would just have to start everything back up again in a few minutes, but better to save the fuel.
The largeish red brick house loomed over him as he came up the way, welcoming but appraising, as if looking for even the smallest hint of weakness. Of unworthiness. He tried to force the thought down - as long as it didn't start firing lasers at him or something, he wasn't going to be scared off by some house. Steering clear of the trike and jump rope left on one of the slabs that made the walkway, he eventually made his way to the door.
Here goes nothing.
Ding dong, the bell is rang.
Unto the Breach
Unto the Breach
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
It was strange, Amy thought as she adjusted her hair for the umpteenth time, how quickly your feelings towards something could change. For the first few weeks after its announcement, prom had been buzzing around Amy's mind like some sort of annoying fly; constantly there, with people talking nonstop about it. Amy hadn't really cared, and if people had asked her, she'd respond with an ambivalent "Eh. Maybe."
Then more and more people started getting dates for prom, or announcing they were going no matter what, and Amy started entertaining the possibility of going, if only because her friends were going too. And then she'd met Yaz and Michelle at the diner, and any thoughts she might have had of staying home had gone completely out the window. There had been the usual two days quiet time, before the frantic rush to look for good looking dresses and book hair appointments began.
And then, only a couple of weeks ago, Mike Eastmund had gone and asked her if she'd go to prom with him. Amy had, honestly, been pretty surprised, and for a brief moment, she had been lost for words. Seeing as she was now standing in front of the mirror in her room, waiting impatiently and nervously for the doorbell to ring, she'd obviously managed to get over her tongue-tiedness, and said yes.
Amy's dress had been bought, and her hair had been styled; although every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she could see a dozen things wrong with it. She guessed it was just pre-prom nerves, or excitement, or something. Amy wasn't really a party going person. She'd just never seen the appeal for most of them. But for whatever reason, prom had managed to hook her interest, and now she was eagerly awaiting the sound of the doorbell.
But despite all the preparation and planning, Amy still felt as if she'd forgotten something. What that could be, Amy had no idea. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Nothing had changed since last time, but she still flattened down a few strands of hair that were trying to escape. Her dress was still, in her eyes, as pretty as before, so Amy had no idea what she could ha-
Wait. Shit. Shit, earrings, necklace, jewellery, shit shit shit
Of course. There had to be something she'd forgotten, which also happened to be the one thing her mother had been constantly reminding her about. Amy began a frantic search of her bedroom, desperately looking for her earrings. The most logical place for them to be was on her desk, so of course, they weren't there. Not for the first time, Amy cursed the fact that her room was a complete tip.
As she was looking under a pile of dog-eared school books, Amy heard the familiar chime of the front doorbell, and her heart felt like it had done a backflip. That had to be Mike. Mike was here. Mike was here, and she still wasn't completely ready. "Mum!" Amy shouted downstairs. "Can you get the door? I'll be down in a second, just don't say anything stupid!"
Downstairs, Paula Bachelor rolled her eyes as she strolled towards the front door, cradling Lilly in her arms. Of course Amy wasn't ready. She was predictably unpredictable when it came down to timings, as Paula had learnt over the past eighteen years. Right on time for the most mundane things, five minutes too early or late for the important stuff. Making sure Lilly was completely secure, Paula opened the front door, smiling broadly at Mike. Lilly hid her face in her mother's shoulder.
"You must be Michael, correct?" Paula said, still smiling. "Do come in; sorry about all the mess. Amy will be right down, apparently. She's always like this. Not very good at the whole preparation thing. I think Lilly here would be better at planning than her."
"I can still hear you, mum!" Amy's voice echoed down the stairs. "And hi, Mike! I will be down in a sec, just- hold on!"
Then more and more people started getting dates for prom, or announcing they were going no matter what, and Amy started entertaining the possibility of going, if only because her friends were going too. And then she'd met Yaz and Michelle at the diner, and any thoughts she might have had of staying home had gone completely out the window. There had been the usual two days quiet time, before the frantic rush to look for good looking dresses and book hair appointments began.
And then, only a couple of weeks ago, Mike Eastmund had gone and asked her if she'd go to prom with him. Amy had, honestly, been pretty surprised, and for a brief moment, she had been lost for words. Seeing as she was now standing in front of the mirror in her room, waiting impatiently and nervously for the doorbell to ring, she'd obviously managed to get over her tongue-tiedness, and said yes.
Amy's dress had been bought, and her hair had been styled; although every time she looked at herself in the mirror, she could see a dozen things wrong with it. She guessed it was just pre-prom nerves, or excitement, or something. Amy wasn't really a party going person. She'd just never seen the appeal for most of them. But for whatever reason, prom had managed to hook her interest, and now she was eagerly awaiting the sound of the doorbell.
But despite all the preparation and planning, Amy still felt as if she'd forgotten something. What that could be, Amy had no idea. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Nothing had changed since last time, but she still flattened down a few strands of hair that were trying to escape. Her dress was still, in her eyes, as pretty as before, so Amy had no idea what she could ha-
Wait. Shit. Shit, earrings, necklace, jewellery, shit shit shit
Of course. There had to be something she'd forgotten, which also happened to be the one thing her mother had been constantly reminding her about. Amy began a frantic search of her bedroom, desperately looking for her earrings. The most logical place for them to be was on her desk, so of course, they weren't there. Not for the first time, Amy cursed the fact that her room was a complete tip.
As she was looking under a pile of dog-eared school books, Amy heard the familiar chime of the front doorbell, and her heart felt like it had done a backflip. That had to be Mike. Mike was here. Mike was here, and she still wasn't completely ready. "Mum!" Amy shouted downstairs. "Can you get the door? I'll be down in a second, just don't say anything stupid!"
Downstairs, Paula Bachelor rolled her eyes as she strolled towards the front door, cradling Lilly in her arms. Of course Amy wasn't ready. She was predictably unpredictable when it came down to timings, as Paula had learnt over the past eighteen years. Right on time for the most mundane things, five minutes too early or late for the important stuff. Making sure Lilly was completely secure, Paula opened the front door, smiling broadly at Mike. Lilly hid her face in her mother's shoulder.
"You must be Michael, correct?" Paula said, still smiling. "Do come in; sorry about all the mess. Amy will be right down, apparently. She's always like this. Not very good at the whole preparation thing. I think Lilly here would be better at planning than her."
"I can still hear you, mum!" Amy's voice echoed down the stairs. "And hi, Mike! I will be down in a sec, just- hold on!"
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
D'aww, cute kid.
Ahem. Mike followed Mrs. Bachelor inside, taking a look around as he ducked through the doorway. The place was kind of messy, but not in a neglected way, more what one would expect when small children are running around. He had to step over a couple odds and ends, nodding politely at Mrs. Bachelor's explanation and trying to hide a little smile. He'd known Amy for a good amount of time now, and that was definitely like her. It could get annoying sometimes, but that unpredictability kept him on his toes.
It also set his heart racing again. Was she having second thoughts? She'd seemed surprised when he got up the nerve to ask. Maybe taken aback? They hung out often enough, talked what seemed like all the time, yet for one long moment he'd almost thought he'd offended her. What if she'd just said yes because nobody else had asked? What if he was just the guy who was brought along so she didn't have to go alone? Hell, what about Owen? It wasn't hard to guess why the man had been so frosty to him of late, and with Amy's reaction, had he intruded on something?
He should've come in the limo. Who didn't come in the fucking limo at prom?! "Posh bullshit" he'd called it, but it's prom and she was probably expecting a limo! His Buick was nice, really nice in that old school way, but it wasn't a goddamn limo. Owen would've brought the limo.
Okay. Shut up about Owen. About Buicks, and limos, and dresses and how she took him asking her. She said yes, and had she ever not been genuine with him? He had to relax; he was over the trench now. He could run into the fire and get to some cover, or run back and get cut down for sure. He went over mitt drills in his head to calm down. One, one-two, two-three-two, two-three-two-three-two, one-six...
"Don't worry about it," he said on the note of the mess, covering up the sudden anxiety. "I really like your place, and it's nice meeting you, Mrs. Bachelor."
It wasn't a lie. He'd heard good things about the Bachelors, and the house was no cave or hoarder lair. It had a lived-in look that rang truer to Michael than a lot of fancier places, with the sterile perfection in every room, more museum piece or "I'm richer than you" showcase than actual home. This place was messy, yeah, but it was also real.
That it was the "correct" answer didn't really have any bearing, at least not consciously. If Lilly looked over at him, she'd get a little wave and a, "hi there".
Ahem. Mike followed Mrs. Bachelor inside, taking a look around as he ducked through the doorway. The place was kind of messy, but not in a neglected way, more what one would expect when small children are running around. He had to step over a couple odds and ends, nodding politely at Mrs. Bachelor's explanation and trying to hide a little smile. He'd known Amy for a good amount of time now, and that was definitely like her. It could get annoying sometimes, but that unpredictability kept him on his toes.
It also set his heart racing again. Was she having second thoughts? She'd seemed surprised when he got up the nerve to ask. Maybe taken aback? They hung out often enough, talked what seemed like all the time, yet for one long moment he'd almost thought he'd offended her. What if she'd just said yes because nobody else had asked? What if he was just the guy who was brought along so she didn't have to go alone? Hell, what about Owen? It wasn't hard to guess why the man had been so frosty to him of late, and with Amy's reaction, had he intruded on something?
He should've come in the limo. Who didn't come in the fucking limo at prom?! "Posh bullshit" he'd called it, but it's prom and she was probably expecting a limo! His Buick was nice, really nice in that old school way, but it wasn't a goddamn limo. Owen would've brought the limo.
Okay. Shut up about Owen. About Buicks, and limos, and dresses and how she took him asking her. She said yes, and had she ever not been genuine with him? He had to relax; he was over the trench now. He could run into the fire and get to some cover, or run back and get cut down for sure. He went over mitt drills in his head to calm down. One, one-two, two-three-two, two-three-two-three-two, one-six...
"Don't worry about it," he said on the note of the mess, covering up the sudden anxiety. "I really like your place, and it's nice meeting you, Mrs. Bachelor."
It wasn't a lie. He'd heard good things about the Bachelors, and the house was no cave or hoarder lair. It had a lived-in look that rang truer to Michael than a lot of fancier places, with the sterile perfection in every room, more museum piece or "I'm richer than you" showcase than actual home. This place was messy, yeah, but it was also real.
That it was the "correct" answer didn't really have any bearing, at least not consciously. If Lilly looked over at him, she'd get a little wave and a, "hi there".
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
"Well, thank you very much, Michael." Paula smiled at Mike's compliment, then gestured round at the scattered clothes and toys randomly placed on the floor with her free hand. "I keep meaning to tidy this all up, but with three young kids, soon as you do, there's just going to be an even bigger mess somewhere."
Lilly had decided that she wanted to see what this person her mother was talking to looked like, and she turned her head to look at Mike, eyes wide and uncertain. Her gaze stayed fixed on him, even when the sound of a door hurriedly opening and slamming shut resonated from upstairs. Paula looked in the direction of the stairs briefly, before looking back at Mike, smiling again.
"Sounds like she's ready. Surprisingly quick for her."
Amy was indeed ready, having found her earrings at last. The tiny, silver, vaguely leaf-shaped things had somehow wormed their way in between a pile of Geography related papers, and she'd only found them by accidentally kicking them over. Still, the important thing was that she had them, and now she was completely ready for prom. She didn't even notice that she'd slammed her bedroom door shut in her excitement. She wondered what Mike would look like; not that he really needed to change much. A tux and general hygiene were the only things he needed to add. Not that his hygiene was bad generally, but Amy had hung out with him several times after he'd participated in one of his sports, which was not the most pleasant of experiences. She just hoped Mike hadn't had any football matches earlier.
Amy almost ran down the stairs, but stopped herself just at the top. Running was not a good idea in heels (also in silver) at the best of times, and doing it down a flight of stairs was the sort of thing that would land her in A&E faster than she could blink. That, or end up flashing everyone. Which was a legitimate concern. It was worth the risk, though, because Amy really liked her dress. It was strapless, and a sort of turquoise/light green mix in colour, with an above the knee hemline and a sash around her waist, the same colour as the rest of the dress. Pretty damn amazing, if Amy said so herself.
The stairs were descended, still quickly, but with complete care and control now, and Amy found herself facing Mike and beaming uncontrollably. He looked good at the worst of times, but the tux seemed to bring out a sense of sophistication in him, yet still retaining his natural good nature. Or something. Whatever; it was a good look.
"H-hey, Mike!" Amy said, her excitement causing her to stutter, which she was pretty sure was a first in her entire life. "You look great! Liking the flower, too." After a few more seconds of looking over Mike, Amy turned to her mother, smile fading somewhat. "I guess you're gonna want to take photos, right?"
Paula nodded, although she also added "So long as Michael's alright with that?" Nonetheless, Amy's heart sank, just a little. She hated having her photo taken on occasions like this. Normal, silly outings with friends were completely awesome, when she was taking the photos. But for more formal occasions like these? Somehow, Amy would completely forget how to smile, and instead pull a bizarre grimace. She sighed briefly, and when she finished, her grin had returned. She wasn't gonna let this of all things get her down. They'd take a few minutes, tops. And hell, maybe her excitement would carry onto the photos and keep the smile on her face.
Lilly had decided that she wanted to see what this person her mother was talking to looked like, and she turned her head to look at Mike, eyes wide and uncertain. Her gaze stayed fixed on him, even when the sound of a door hurriedly opening and slamming shut resonated from upstairs. Paula looked in the direction of the stairs briefly, before looking back at Mike, smiling again.
"Sounds like she's ready. Surprisingly quick for her."
Amy was indeed ready, having found her earrings at last. The tiny, silver, vaguely leaf-shaped things had somehow wormed their way in between a pile of Geography related papers, and she'd only found them by accidentally kicking them over. Still, the important thing was that she had them, and now she was completely ready for prom. She didn't even notice that she'd slammed her bedroom door shut in her excitement. She wondered what Mike would look like; not that he really needed to change much. A tux and general hygiene were the only things he needed to add. Not that his hygiene was bad generally, but Amy had hung out with him several times after he'd participated in one of his sports, which was not the most pleasant of experiences. She just hoped Mike hadn't had any football matches earlier.
Amy almost ran down the stairs, but stopped herself just at the top. Running was not a good idea in heels (also in silver) at the best of times, and doing it down a flight of stairs was the sort of thing that would land her in A&E faster than she could blink. That, or end up flashing everyone. Which was a legitimate concern. It was worth the risk, though, because Amy really liked her dress. It was strapless, and a sort of turquoise/light green mix in colour, with an above the knee hemline and a sash around her waist, the same colour as the rest of the dress. Pretty damn amazing, if Amy said so herself.
The stairs were descended, still quickly, but with complete care and control now, and Amy found herself facing Mike and beaming uncontrollably. He looked good at the worst of times, but the tux seemed to bring out a sense of sophistication in him, yet still retaining his natural good nature. Or something. Whatever; it was a good look.
"H-hey, Mike!" Amy said, her excitement causing her to stutter, which she was pretty sure was a first in her entire life. "You look great! Liking the flower, too." After a few more seconds of looking over Mike, Amy turned to her mother, smile fading somewhat. "I guess you're gonna want to take photos, right?"
Paula nodded, although she also added "So long as Michael's alright with that?" Nonetheless, Amy's heart sank, just a little. She hated having her photo taken on occasions like this. Normal, silly outings with friends were completely awesome, when she was taking the photos. But for more formal occasions like these? Somehow, Amy would completely forget how to smile, and instead pull a bizarre grimace. She sighed briefly, and when she finished, her grin had returned. She wasn't gonna let this of all things get her down. They'd take a few minutes, tops. And hell, maybe her excitement would carry onto the photos and keep the smile on her face.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
"Practically a record. I know how it can be; I was the little brother myself."
Mike barely had much chance to reply to Mrs. Bachelor, as the slam of a door drew his eyes up to the stairs. Despite his effort, his eyes stayed there, following the newcomer on their way down. His lack of words was probably for the best, as the sight of Amy all dressed up and ready dried his mouth. Her hair done up at the back as it was proved an interesting look, but it was the dress that caught his attention first. For one, it wasn't very... prom-y; he couldn't complain, but a strapless green dress with an enticingly short hemline hadn't been what he'd expected.
That was part of knowing her, though. Expect the unexpected. Part of him wanted to stare, to relax and let his eyes just wander around, but now wasn't the time to be crude. Just to be safe, he looked at her earrings as she almost ran down the stairs, minimising the risk of getting flashed or anything in favour of studying how the light glinted off the silver leaves. In a matter of moments, she was in front of him and he found himself giving her a broad grin. He really had got lucky.
"Thanks," he managed, making himself keep eye contact. At least her demeanour was a good sign. She'd seen him at his worst, bruised and scraped up and in serious need of a shower; sharp attire and plenty of time to get ready couldn't have failed him. For a split second, a corner of his mind noted how the dress emphasised her already impressive bust. "You look beautiful."
Not quite how he'd meant it to come out, with that unspoken "as always" hanging at the end, especially with Amy's mother right there, but there were worse ways to put it, and it was true. Amy'd always been pretty hot, and seeing her like this could get a man thinking ungentlemanly thoughts. Thoughts that could wait. He gave her an easy little smile to play it off, hoping it wouldn't blow up in his face. Before he really had time to worry about it, though, the Bachelor women were discussing pictures.
Was he okay with taking a picture? They still had plenty of time, after all. He wasn't sure he really did pictures, though; sure, he rarely outright hated how they came out, but he was never quite sure how to stand for them, how to look and smile and hold himself. One way, too stiff, next too lax, and always feeling like he was the only one who didn't get it for sure.
But what the hell, it was prom and like hell he was going to be rude to people who were being so nice to him. Just one thing...
"Sure, could it just wait one second, Mrs. Bachelor? Had something I didn't want to forget." With Mrs. Bachelor's leave, if given, Mike would turn to Amy again and reach into his pocket with a little bow of his head, fishing out a little protective case. Opening it up, he gently fished out the lovely green corsage he'd picked out, the colour matching her dress. Apparently guys tended to bring their date along to pick out the corsage and boutonniere together, but he'd wanted to surprise her.
Okay, he'd also wanted to spare himself the embarrassment of having taken a bloody long time settling on anything. He could tell someone the very best place to pick up a pair of boxing gloves in this city, but picking out flowers wasn't something he was used to, and like hell he'd have let Amy see him fumbling around on something he wanted to be special for her.
"I got this for you," he explained, holding it out to Amy a little. "If I may...?"
God but this could blow up on him in so many ways. Steeling himself, he would slip it on Amy's wrist once she gave the okay.
Mike barely had much chance to reply to Mrs. Bachelor, as the slam of a door drew his eyes up to the stairs. Despite his effort, his eyes stayed there, following the newcomer on their way down. His lack of words was probably for the best, as the sight of Amy all dressed up and ready dried his mouth. Her hair done up at the back as it was proved an interesting look, but it was the dress that caught his attention first. For one, it wasn't very... prom-y; he couldn't complain, but a strapless green dress with an enticingly short hemline hadn't been what he'd expected.
That was part of knowing her, though. Expect the unexpected. Part of him wanted to stare, to relax and let his eyes just wander around, but now wasn't the time to be crude. Just to be safe, he looked at her earrings as she almost ran down the stairs, minimising the risk of getting flashed or anything in favour of studying how the light glinted off the silver leaves. In a matter of moments, she was in front of him and he found himself giving her a broad grin. He really had got lucky.
"Thanks," he managed, making himself keep eye contact. At least her demeanour was a good sign. She'd seen him at his worst, bruised and scraped up and in serious need of a shower; sharp attire and plenty of time to get ready couldn't have failed him. For a split second, a corner of his mind noted how the dress emphasised her already impressive bust. "You look beautiful."
Not quite how he'd meant it to come out, with that unspoken "as always" hanging at the end, especially with Amy's mother right there, but there were worse ways to put it, and it was true. Amy'd always been pretty hot, and seeing her like this could get a man thinking ungentlemanly thoughts. Thoughts that could wait. He gave her an easy little smile to play it off, hoping it wouldn't blow up in his face. Before he really had time to worry about it, though, the Bachelor women were discussing pictures.
Was he okay with taking a picture? They still had plenty of time, after all. He wasn't sure he really did pictures, though; sure, he rarely outright hated how they came out, but he was never quite sure how to stand for them, how to look and smile and hold himself. One way, too stiff, next too lax, and always feeling like he was the only one who didn't get it for sure.
But what the hell, it was prom and like hell he was going to be rude to people who were being so nice to him. Just one thing...
"Sure, could it just wait one second, Mrs. Bachelor? Had something I didn't want to forget." With Mrs. Bachelor's leave, if given, Mike would turn to Amy again and reach into his pocket with a little bow of his head, fishing out a little protective case. Opening it up, he gently fished out the lovely green corsage he'd picked out, the colour matching her dress. Apparently guys tended to bring their date along to pick out the corsage and boutonniere together, but he'd wanted to surprise her.
Okay, he'd also wanted to spare himself the embarrassment of having taken a bloody long time settling on anything. He could tell someone the very best place to pick up a pair of boxing gloves in this city, but picking out flowers wasn't something he was used to, and like hell he'd have let Amy see him fumbling around on something he wanted to be special for her.
"I got this for you," he explained, holding it out to Amy a little. "If I may...?"
God but this could blow up on him in so many ways. Steeling himself, he would slip it on Amy's wrist once she gave the okay.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
Despite what she'd told herself moments before, Amy kinda wished that Mike would just say, "No, he wasn't really a fan of having his photo taken either." It wouldn't be a huge loss, really; Amy had already had a couple of photos taken of her a few days earlier, when she'd been trying on her outfit, much to her annoyance. There was probably going to be someone drifting round taking photos at prom. If mum wanted to see the two of them in a photo, then she could wait a little longer, surely.
But no, Mike said he was fine with the photos. Ah well. She would have to grin and bear it, she supposed. Alongside the aforementioned photos taken by whoever it was that was going to be flitting around with a camera at prom.
First though, Mike apparently had something important with him. Paula nodded at his request, before walking into the Bachelor living room to put Lilly down. Amy watched her go, and looked back at Mike in time to see him opening a small case, with a beautiful green corsage inside. Amy could only stare at it in surprise. She knew that guys normally went with their dates to pick out corsages; Amy had assumed Mike had forgotten. But no, here it was, right in front of her. And in the same colour as her dress as well! Which meant Mike was either incredibly lucky or incredibly psychic. Amy rather hoped it was the latter. That would be cool.
Amy's mind was still focused on the corsage, and for a few seconds, she didn't realise that Mike was holding it out to her. Snapping back to reality, Amy looked up at Mike, laughing slightly.
"Oh! Yeah, here, sorry." Amy held her wrist out, allowing Mike to slip it on. Almost immediately after, Amy's mum poked her head round the living room door. "Could you come through into here, please?" she asked. "There's more room, and it's less cluttered." Amy sighed slightly, then laughed again.
"Come on. I guess we'd better go in there." Amy lead the way into her living room, and smiled at Lilly, sitting on the sofa, watching the proceedings without understanding what was going on. Her mother was holding a camera that was inferior to Amy's own in every way. As Paula dictated where and how Amy and Mike should stand, and as she began to take the first few pictures, Amy attempted to put on her best smile. Unlike in the previous dozen photos her mother had taken, however, this smile came easily and naturally.
Though he took a second to really get comfortable, clearly unsure if he looked too serious or not serious enough, Mike was nice to take pictures with, with his arm around her waist and an easy grin that rivalled her own. It would've been easy to just stay like that for a while, but unfortunately, prom wasn't going to wait for them.
"Uh, mum?" Amy piped up after Paula had taken a decent amount of photos. "Much as I hate to break away from this, we kinda need to get going now." Paula lowered the camera, and checked her watch, nodding as she did so. "Of course, of course; wouldn't want you to be late for this now, would I?"
Rather regretfully, Amy broke away from Mike, as her mother bent down to hug her. It always felt weird having her mum still be taller than her, especially when people like Mike and Owen towered over their parents. After her mum had let go, Amy went over to give her sister a hug, who was still looking completely clueless. Right then. It was time to go, for reals now.
But no, Mike said he was fine with the photos. Ah well. She would have to grin and bear it, she supposed. Alongside the aforementioned photos taken by whoever it was that was going to be flitting around with a camera at prom.
First though, Mike apparently had something important with him. Paula nodded at his request, before walking into the Bachelor living room to put Lilly down. Amy watched her go, and looked back at Mike in time to see him opening a small case, with a beautiful green corsage inside. Amy could only stare at it in surprise. She knew that guys normally went with their dates to pick out corsages; Amy had assumed Mike had forgotten. But no, here it was, right in front of her. And in the same colour as her dress as well! Which meant Mike was either incredibly lucky or incredibly psychic. Amy rather hoped it was the latter. That would be cool.
Amy's mind was still focused on the corsage, and for a few seconds, she didn't realise that Mike was holding it out to her. Snapping back to reality, Amy looked up at Mike, laughing slightly.
"Oh! Yeah, here, sorry." Amy held her wrist out, allowing Mike to slip it on. Almost immediately after, Amy's mum poked her head round the living room door. "Could you come through into here, please?" she asked. "There's more room, and it's less cluttered." Amy sighed slightly, then laughed again.
"Come on. I guess we'd better go in there." Amy lead the way into her living room, and smiled at Lilly, sitting on the sofa, watching the proceedings without understanding what was going on. Her mother was holding a camera that was inferior to Amy's own in every way. As Paula dictated where and how Amy and Mike should stand, and as she began to take the first few pictures, Amy attempted to put on her best smile. Unlike in the previous dozen photos her mother had taken, however, this smile came easily and naturally.
Though he took a second to really get comfortable, clearly unsure if he looked too serious or not serious enough, Mike was nice to take pictures with, with his arm around her waist and an easy grin that rivalled her own. It would've been easy to just stay like that for a while, but unfortunately, prom wasn't going to wait for them.
"Uh, mum?" Amy piped up after Paula had taken a decent amount of photos. "Much as I hate to break away from this, we kinda need to get going now." Paula lowered the camera, and checked her watch, nodding as she did so. "Of course, of course; wouldn't want you to be late for this now, would I?"
Rather regretfully, Amy broke away from Mike, as her mother bent down to hug her. It always felt weird having her mum still be taller than her, especially when people like Mike and Owen towered over their parents. After her mum had let go, Amy went over to give her sister a hug, who was still looking completely clueless. Right then. It was time to go, for reals now.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
(So this delay is my fault, I'm made of fail. Here's something quick to get the thread moving.)
So it was. He wouldn't mind hanging around and getting to know the Bachelors or something on a normal day, but this was prom. Arriving a bit early would be nice, especially to beat parking and the glorified taxis, and arriving late? Unthinkable. Prom would never come again, and he'd never see most of the people there again once graduation came.
Funny, four years ago this part of the year would've been something to dread. Not just because of the end of what had been their whole world for almost half a decade, but... part of his mind remembered those sick games. All the futures destroyed, the corpses piled up on the screens, the silent tension every year as everyone wondered who would be taken next. When it'd been Tom's turn to go through all this, their parents had barely let him go to prom, and the senior trip was out of the question, just in case the terrorists weren't as gone as everyone thought.
But they were gone. It had been four years, Mike's entire high school career, without a sign any of them were even still alive since the last incident. They were ghosts of a past that couldn't hurt anyone any more, and they weren't going to stop him and Amy from having a good time. His eyes wandered for just a moment as Amy said goodbye to her mother and sister, but didn't linger long enough to be disrespectful - hopefully, nobody even noticed. Then it was time to go, Mike's decorum failing him as he found himself unsure what to say to Amy's family, settling for a quick bow of the head.
"It was great meeting you all," he said, before turning to Amy with the most charming smile he could muster. "Shall we, then?"
He offered his arm, and with that he would lead her out.
So it was. He wouldn't mind hanging around and getting to know the Bachelors or something on a normal day, but this was prom. Arriving a bit early would be nice, especially to beat parking and the glorified taxis, and arriving late? Unthinkable. Prom would never come again, and he'd never see most of the people there again once graduation came.
Funny, four years ago this part of the year would've been something to dread. Not just because of the end of what had been their whole world for almost half a decade, but... part of his mind remembered those sick games. All the futures destroyed, the corpses piled up on the screens, the silent tension every year as everyone wondered who would be taken next. When it'd been Tom's turn to go through all this, their parents had barely let him go to prom, and the senior trip was out of the question, just in case the terrorists weren't as gone as everyone thought.
But they were gone. It had been four years, Mike's entire high school career, without a sign any of them were even still alive since the last incident. They were ghosts of a past that couldn't hurt anyone any more, and they weren't going to stop him and Amy from having a good time. His eyes wandered for just a moment as Amy said goodbye to her mother and sister, but didn't linger long enough to be disrespectful - hopefully, nobody even noticed. Then it was time to go, Mike's decorum failing him as he found himself unsure what to say to Amy's family, settling for a quick bow of the head.
"It was great meeting you all," he said, before turning to Amy with the most charming smile he could muster. "Shall we, then?"
He offered his arm, and with that he would lead her out.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
Amy's thoughts were nowhere near as reflective or serious as Mike's. She had no older siblings or anything to have worried about four years ago. Before then, she'd been living in England, and from all the evidence shown, the terrorists had only been taking people from American schools. Hell, she'd even watched the "show" a couple of times before she found it in used real high school kids. Since then, she'd pushed all memory of the show out of her mind. In terms of the SOTF, she, and her family, had never had anything much to worry about.
No, right now, all of Amy's thoughts were focused on prom; in particular, actually getting there now. She didn't want them to be late, after all. She'd been ambivalent about prom before, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to actually be there. She was glad that Mike had gotten to meet her family, but the search for her missing earrings and the photographs had taken up time. It was go time.
Mike seemed to be trying to say something more, but unsure of exactly what. Amy could only hope that he say something, anything, lest the situation become awkward. Thankfully, he quickly said how great it was to see Amy's family, before offering Amy his arm, alongside a charming smile.
Amy smiled back, before taking Mike's arm. She gave one last goodbye to her mother and sister, before letting Mike lead her out.
No, right now, all of Amy's thoughts were focused on prom; in particular, actually getting there now. She didn't want them to be late, after all. She'd been ambivalent about prom before, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to actually be there. She was glad that Mike had gotten to meet her family, but the search for her missing earrings and the photographs had taken up time. It was go time.
Mike seemed to be trying to say something more, but unsure of exactly what. Amy could only hope that he say something, anything, lest the situation become awkward. Thankfully, he quickly said how great it was to see Amy's family, before offering Amy his arm, alongside a charming smile.
Amy smiled back, before taking Mike's arm. She gave one last goodbye to her mother and sister, before letting Mike lead her out.
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
Michael was unaware of Amy's apparent ability to read his thoughts, which was probably for the better. As much as they'd joked about one or the other being a psychic, the idea of his mind being an open book for someone to peruse at their leisure, even if it were her, was damn creepy. He held too many secrets too close, too many weaknesses and private things he wanted to stay that way, for literal mind reading to sound like fun.
But speaking of fun, he was fairly certain that was the goal for tonight. Sort of the Class of 2012's last stand, just not as literally as in previous years. Leaving the house and leading the way down that stone walk with Amy, he idly wondered what security would be like. Hopefully not too intrusive; he'd heard rumours of SWAT teams on standby for proms and police escorts for senior trips in the past few years, and that was for the schools that didn't just cancel them, but with SOTF having been gone so long that would just be extreme. Not to mention way too much of a mood-killer.
'Course, if something that huge were going to be set up, mum probably would've said something about it, wouldn't she? That or made sure Aurora got one of the "SWAT team hanging around" proms, but he really hoped she wouldn't go that far. They deserved this night, at least. High school had been a battle every day, and it was finally just about over; even if it was just one night without worries, one night of having fun and maybe getting a small glimpse of his father's world with its formality and brushes with high society, it'd be worthwhile.
"So yeah..." He leaned against the wall, going for casual without looking like he was trying to look that way. Hopefully Amy couldn't hear his heart pounding in his ears. "We've known each other a while now, and I really like you, so I was wondering if you'd like to go to prom with me?"
The walk to his car somehow felt too long and too short at the same time, the somewhat cool Pacific air pressing down on them as he opened the passenger door for her - obviously she could've done it herself, but it was the principle of the thing. At least it was a nice car, a black '99 LeSabre tuned up so it ran like it just came off the line, and coupled with a comfortable red interior that complemented the outside without looking garish. They'd joked before that the red was so the blood wouldn't show up if and when he ended up dealing with that one douchebag ex of hers. What the hell had his name been, Maxwell? ...No, Maximillian, he remembered now.
Sometimes it was hard telling one douchey rich kid from another, but that kid really did need a punch in the face. Too bad Mike didn't need an assault charge with his hands registered. Maybe one day, he thought as the Buick roared to life, as if wondering who dared disturb its slumber.
He started backing down the drive, and hoped traffic wouldn't be too bad and nobody'd end up punched in the face tonight.
But speaking of fun, he was fairly certain that was the goal for tonight. Sort of the Class of 2012's last stand, just not as literally as in previous years. Leaving the house and leading the way down that stone walk with Amy, he idly wondered what security would be like. Hopefully not too intrusive; he'd heard rumours of SWAT teams on standby for proms and police escorts for senior trips in the past few years, and that was for the schools that didn't just cancel them, but with SOTF having been gone so long that would just be extreme. Not to mention way too much of a mood-killer.
'Course, if something that huge were going to be set up, mum probably would've said something about it, wouldn't she? That or made sure Aurora got one of the "SWAT team hanging around" proms, but he really hoped she wouldn't go that far. They deserved this night, at least. High school had been a battle every day, and it was finally just about over; even if it was just one night without worries, one night of having fun and maybe getting a small glimpse of his father's world with its formality and brushes with high society, it'd be worthwhile.
"So yeah..." He leaned against the wall, going for casual without looking like he was trying to look that way. Hopefully Amy couldn't hear his heart pounding in his ears. "We've known each other a while now, and I really like you, so I was wondering if you'd like to go to prom with me?"
The walk to his car somehow felt too long and too short at the same time, the somewhat cool Pacific air pressing down on them as he opened the passenger door for her - obviously she could've done it herself, but it was the principle of the thing. At least it was a nice car, a black '99 LeSabre tuned up so it ran like it just came off the line, and coupled with a comfortable red interior that complemented the outside without looking garish. They'd joked before that the red was so the blood wouldn't show up if and when he ended up dealing with that one douchebag ex of hers. What the hell had his name been, Maxwell? ...No, Maximillian, he remembered now.
Sometimes it was hard telling one douchey rich kid from another, but that kid really did need a punch in the face. Too bad Mike didn't need an assault charge with his hands registered. Maybe one day, he thought as the Buick roared to life, as if wondering who dared disturb its slumber.
He started backing down the drive, and hoped traffic wouldn't be too bad and nobody'd end up punched in the face tonight.
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.
The air was cool and crisp as Amy and Mike walked out of the house, and down the path to Mike's car. In fact, it could accurately be described as chilly; Amy seemed to feel the cold more than most, and her dress wasn't exactly helping matters.
Still, it would only be cold for a few brief moments. Amy could get back into relative warmth in Mike's car, then into the hall as quickly as possible. Even if it had been an unexpectedly warm evening, the hurrying part would still most likely have happened; she seriously wanted to get to prom as soon as possible.
Amy smiled at Mike Ashe opened the passenger door for her. Amy knew nothing about cars, aside from the fact that they usually had four wheels, but she liked Mike's car. It just looked cool, the red interior especially. Amy was also reminded of Maximillian, and an odd mix of a smirk and a scowl crossed her face-the smirk because of her and Mike's joke, the scowl at the actual thought of Max. The fucker deserved a punch to the face. Amy hoped he wouldn't be there tonight. If he was, Amy was fairly certain she'd be tempted to take a swing at his stupid smug face herself.
As the car reversed out of the drive, Amy looked over at Mike, slightly awkwardly.
"Sorry that took so long." Amy said, apologetically. "I kinda sorta placed my earrings somewhere, and then forgot exactly where. Did mum say anything too embarrassing? I swear, she finds new ways to embarrass me every day."
Still, it would only be cold for a few brief moments. Amy could get back into relative warmth in Mike's car, then into the hall as quickly as possible. Even if it had been an unexpectedly warm evening, the hurrying part would still most likely have happened; she seriously wanted to get to prom as soon as possible.
Amy smiled at Mike Ashe opened the passenger door for her. Amy knew nothing about cars, aside from the fact that they usually had four wheels, but she liked Mike's car. It just looked cool, the red interior especially. Amy was also reminded of Maximillian, and an odd mix of a smirk and a scowl crossed her face-the smirk because of her and Mike's joke, the scowl at the actual thought of Max. The fucker deserved a punch to the face. Amy hoped he wouldn't be there tonight. If he was, Amy was fairly certain she'd be tempted to take a swing at his stupid smug face herself.
As the car reversed out of the drive, Amy looked over at Mike, slightly awkwardly.
"Sorry that took so long." Amy said, apologetically. "I kinda sorta placed my earrings somewhere, and then forgot exactly where. Did mum say anything too embarrassing? I swear, she finds new ways to embarrass me every day."
"bryony and alba would definitely join the terrorists quote me on this put this quote in signatures put it in history books" - Cicada Days, 2017
(I'm out of ideas, and v5 proper regs just opened, so here's a fast thing)
"Called you a bad planner, that's about - whoa - it."
Phew, okay, out of the drive with no trouble. That mailbox had got a bit close, but maybe it was perspective playing tricks. Stop screwing around, Mike, don't come this far and then mess up getting out of Amy's driveway. Not to be short with her, she'd know that he always hated talking when backing out of a parking spot. Everything looked a hell of a lot closer in a car, he'd never hit anything with his Buick and he wasn't fixing to start because he was distracted.
Everything was smooth sailing once they were out of the drive, though, so Mike was content to just let himself enjoy the way over. In a way, doing it himself felt better than riding a limo.
"So, any plans for after the dance...?"
Small talk in a Buick while all dressed up. Classy.
(Michael Eastmund continued at prom)
"Called you a bad planner, that's about - whoa - it."
Phew, okay, out of the drive with no trouble. That mailbox had got a bit close, but maybe it was perspective playing tricks. Stop screwing around, Mike, don't come this far and then mess up getting out of Amy's driveway. Not to be short with her, she'd know that he always hated talking when backing out of a parking spot. Everything looked a hell of a lot closer in a car, he'd never hit anything with his Buick and he wasn't fixing to start because he was distracted.
Everything was smooth sailing once they were out of the drive, though, so Mike was content to just let himself enjoy the way over. In a way, doing it himself felt better than riding a limo.
"So, any plans for after the dance...?"
Small talk in a Buick while all dressed up. Classy.
(Michael Eastmund continued at prom)
This is an archival account used by staff to port posts belonging to the former handler Slayer.