fivethreestrawberryblonde | open rp post ❧

[ The upside to having Serena van der Woodsen as an older sister is that, well, she's a pretty good sister. The downside? Eric never hesitates to agree to get her coffee. Which always, for some reason, results in him getting coffee for everybody.

So here he is, biting at his lip in concentration while trying to balance too many too large cups in his arms as he turns away from the counter. Not exactly watching where he's going, either. He's concentrating too hard on not spilling things. ]

[it's for Eric's own good that he doesn't accidentally run into Lydia. She's very good on her feet - elegant, graceful, and capable of dodging virtually anyone, given enough warning - but these heels are brand-new, and not completely broken in yet. Not to mention she would just rather not, if she can help it.

[She just manages to sidestep Eric on her way up to the counter, pursing her mouth in a disapproving sort of fashion.]

They make trays for a reason. [and it's his own fault for not grabbing one. Or so says her expression of slight amusement mingled with 'wow, you're sort of slow on the uptake here'. Then she flicks strawberry blonde hair back over her shoulder and rattles off a quick order to the barista.] -And a tray for him, before he kills himself or some other passer-by.

[ He grimaces briefly. Okay, so he should've thought of that. But it wasn't like he had very far to go; the hotel was right around the corner. Thankfully, he's very used to Blair and her snottiness, so he doesn't even bat an eyelash at Lydia's words. ]

Sorry. [ It's a sincere apology, really. He is sorry for almost running into her. He spent enough time with Serena (and his mother, and Jenny, and Blair) to know her outfit as designer and expensive and hot coffee all over it? That would suck.

He's about to walk away when she speaks again. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder at her. ] Uh. Thanks.

You're welcome. [and since she's waiting for her drink? Lydia will even help out a little. She is the master of rearranging cups, taking them delicately from his hands with a minute little smile and slotting them into the tray until lo and behold, he can actually carry them without threat of dumping them everywhere.]

I'm guessing you're some kind of assistant or lackey. Unpaid intern? Coffee bitch? [she eyes him a little, a quick once-over. Gay, she's pretty sure. A shame, that. And here, she was hoping to start forgetting about Jackson with a nice distraction in her hotel room bed.] I'm going to go with coffee bitch.

[ He allows her to help, his smile eternally grateful. This is New York; most people would've simply scowled and told him to watch where he was going. That was a response he was used to. Kindness? Not so much. Especially not on the Upper East Side.

He lets out a small, good-natured laugh. ] Little brother, actually. [ He holds the tray in both hands, happy that he's no longer at risk of pouring coffee all over himself. ] My sister asked me to get her some coffee since she's kind of busy right now. But then everybody decided they needed coffee and I sort of just got stuck with it.

[good thing Lydia's from small town California instead of New York. As much as the city calls to her, she's a small town girl at heart, and there's something to be said for that. Kill them with kindness, isn't that what they say?]

Close enough. [he gets another little smile from her, slightly coy, and a little bit flirty. She's now ninety percent sure he's gay, but maybe he has cute friends.] That's what little brothers are for, though. Taking care of their big sister's needs when she's too busy to do it herself. And in the case of the only child, that's what boyfriends are for.

[the barista calls for her, and Lydia bounces over to retrieve her drink, satisfied that this place will get her patronage for the duration of her vacation.]

How far are you going?

[ Wow, she really is ridiculously like Blair. Except maybe a tad bit less bitchy. Plus, he sort of doubted Blair actually got her own coffee.

He... doesn't actually have many friends, truth be told. But a couple of his step-siblings are pretty cute? And single, as far as he knows. ] Really? I thought little brothers were supposed to listen to their sister's phone conversations and tattle on them to Mom when they did something wrong. [ Not that he ever really did that. (Except the phone thing. He did do that.) It's always been said that he's wise beyond his years. ]

Uh, just around the block. I live at the Milan.

Lyall has Lydia waiting after class, largely because he really is starting to get tired of her simply not trying in class. He's well aware she's smarter than she lets on, and he wants to know why she isn't bothering to make use of it.

So as the rest of the students file out at the end of the day, he beckons her up to his desk, her latest test sitting in front of him. "Miss Martin."

[it hasn't been that long since Lydia found out about the whole pack thing, about half the people she spends time with at school all having this bite (a curse, she decided when Jackson went away, when he was spirited off to London, and she was left to deal with feelings and other things she'd really rather not). She's still reeling from the discovery, and simply putting on a brave face, as she does. She is unflappable; she is fully and completely in control of herself and her emotions.

[She flicks her hair back over her shoulder as she strides into the cafeteria, settling immediately at Isaac's table, and setting her tray down with a delicate clack. She feels like she's allowed, since he's supposedly part of this pack of Derek's, and since Jackson is technically part of that. He's not here anymore - the thought tightens her chest painfully - but that has to make her pack by association, she thinks. She doesn't know how this works. But she's giving it a try.

[This is step one to her new plan for the year: bounce back. Be happy. Something she forgot about when Jackson left, and resolves to find again now. If that means hanging out with Isaac - Erica and Boyd are both gone; his table is empty for the time being - then so be it. He plays lacrosse. She's sure they can find something to talk about.]

[ Shopping is therapeutic. Pretty clothes and nice jewelry are the first step to mending a broken heart. And the second? Well, that's pretty people, of course.

And from the looks of things, Magnus might be able to kill two birds with one stone.

He'd noticed her when she walked in the store. It was hard not to, really. The way she holds herself with an air of confidence is distracting and, well, attractive. He's grown so accustomed to having to constantly remind Alec that he's beautiful that the idea of possibly being with somebody who already knows is strange. Strange, but definitely welcome. He's not about to pass up this chance, at any rate.

So he picks a dress off the rack, something pink and white and sundress-like in style, and approaches, holding it out with a soft grin. ]

Pardon if this a bit too forward, but I'm of the belief that you would look absolutely stunning in this.

[it has been precisely five months and seventeen days since the last time Lydia last saw Jackson. Three months and four days since she thought about him. She thinks that's doing pretty well. She's moving on, she's meeting new people. She hasn't been moving into dating quite so much as simply enjoying things, enjoying the way the pretty boys she meets take up space in her bed, and enjoying the way they feel against her in the middle of the night.

[Peter's not really like that, though. He's different. And not in that way that everyone back home in Beacon Hills was. Not in the way that he's secretly a werewolf, and she has to watch out for him accidentally killing people every full moon. He's not quite as exhausting as things back home, which is remarkable and simultaneously sort of terrifying: in a city like the Big Apple, she'd have expected everything to be more exhausting. But she's more at home than she's been for a while. She thinks that it might have been a good idea to relocate, to take herself out of the equation back home, to remove herself from the pack and all else that it meant; she's more relaxed than she's been in ages.

[Lydia shifts slightly, recrossing her legs beneath the table. Under most circumstances, she might have decided against this sort of thing - meeting and hanging out with a guy, no matter how cute, at a diner. It reminds her of home, of everything that she's trying to escape. But maybe there's a limit to how many guys she can rebound with before eventually just going home with them gets boring. The sex is great, generally speaking, but she can't help but wonder if she needs something new. Someone new.]

Lydia smoothed down her skirt as she scooped up her handbag, tucking the notebook filled with detailed notes and marginalia alike back into its hiding place; she flicked her hair back over one shoulder as she strode up to the front of the classroom. She knew as well as he did that she wasn't trying her best this semester. It wasn't something that was bothering her right now, not when she could scrape by easily enough, getting high Bs without even batting an eye. And that was on a bad day.

Maybe her plans for receiving a Fields medal were going to be delayed, but she knew just how well she had to do to get into her school of choice: she would more than make it.

"Yes?" She asked, voice slightly too sweet as she stepped up to the desk, almost posing in her new Ferragamos.

Putting his pen down, Lyall looks up at her over the tops of his reading glasses. Whether or not he really needs them is up for debate, but he wears them anyhow. "Have a seat, Miss Martin. I wanted to talk to you about this." He tapped the test-- a B, indeed-- lightly with one finger.

[step-siblings are more than good enough, providing they are, in fact, single.]

Maybe. I wouldn't know - I don't have one. [she gives him a face that suggests if she knew for certain, she would have said so, and there wouldn't be that little thread of doubt to her words. Hence the mention of boyfriends. Except she doesn't have one of those right now either - clearly that's why she's here, getting her own coffee when Jackson could have been getting it for her instead.]

I'm going that direction. You can keep me company until the Milan.

[ Oh, there's also Nate. He guesses Nate's his friend. And he's pretty sure he's single. Maybe. ]

I guess you're sort of lucky. Siblings aren't always the best. [ He should know. He has four of them now. And while they're pretty cool most of the time? He's lost count of the amount of times he's wanted smother Jenny or Chuck in their sleep.

He looks at her a second, then shrugs and nods. ] Okay. [ He doesn't mind the company, at least. Balancing the tray of drinks on one hand, he moves out to open the door and hold it for her. ]

[somehow, transplanting herself away from all the insanity of Beacon Hills has proven useful. It's given her a fresh perspective on life, one where she's not victim to strange things like possession and werewolves; it's given her her confidence back, instead of knowing that when she walks into a room, she becomes 'that crazy girl'. She's not really that surprised when she's approached, and even gives the dress in question a quick glance, letting her eyes linger before flicking up to the man holding it.

[He's cute. It's not that hard for her to put on a little smile in return, head tipping to one side and red hair bouncing in its perfect little waves.]

Normally, I would have to question your taste - pink on a redhead? - but in this case? I might actually have to agree.

And I'm putting off how forward that was to this not being Beacon Hills.

She would have almost preferred to just keep standing - she had hoped this wouldn't take that long - but Lydia sat all the same, crossing her legs and getting comfortable. Her immediate retort that she had some things going on in her life died on her lips, mostly out of respect for the fact that he is indeed a teacher, and actually one of the few who knows something. "What's there to talk about? I didn't do well. I know that."

[time to ask around.]

Mm. [she's pretty sure she would prefer the company of a sibling she wanted to smother in their sleep over a mother who ignores her almost constantly. But that's neither here nor there, and her smile remains plastered on all the same.

[She strides through the door with a certain sort of practiced elegance that was out of place back home, and much more normal here; she doesn't stand out here. She's surprisingly all right with that. Eric earns himself a little smile as she passes him.] Now think of how hard that would have been if I hadn't gotten you that tray.

[this is not how Lydia envisioned spending her evening. Her evening was supposed to be a nice stroll around town, her coat keeping out the chill of the slowly cooling air; her evening was supposed to be all for her, just to admire everything she had around her hotel within walking distance. Her evening was not supposed to get rained out. It was especially not supposed to do so while she was a good twenty minutes away, enjoying dinner out. She has an umbrella with her, at least, but that's small consolation when the winds whipping through the streets seem more interested in flipping that inside out.

[She's frustrated, and naturally so; she feels like she might have to draw a hot bath when she gets back to her hotel, and just cry it all out. Lydia has too much to cry out, she thinks - loneliness stemming from Jackson leaving her, and her leaving Beacon Hills; frustration from the rain, from her umbrella, from the heel she hopes isn't broken; all manner of things that she doesn't care to think about, but somehow is.

[She stumbles a bit, but catches herself before she goes down completely, one hand out to make sure she doesn't accidentally tear her dress; she murmurs a quiet apology to the passer-by she ends up briefly bracing herself on, withdrawing her hand again as if burned before starting her way back down the street, hoping her mascara isn't too smudged from the tears welling in her eyes.]

[ Well, he sort of had both for a while. Up until his attempted suicide, his mother wasn't very attentive. It took him trying to kill himself for her to start paying attention. Now, his relationship with his mom is pretty damn strong. But for those first fourteen years? Not so much.

A smile is given to her in return as he steps out, letting the door fall shut behind him. ] I probably wouldn't have been able to get out the door at all. It looks like I'm forever in your debt. [ He adjusts the tray in his hand and begins walking in the appropriate direction. ]

[ It's always nice to get away. And New York is a pretty great place to do it. Granted, he probably would've chosen, say, Paris or London, but he's in the position where he has nearly unlimited resources and can up and leave any time he wants with very little consequences. ]

Redheads can pull off certain shades of pink. [ His grin widens. ] And I'm of the belief that anybody pretty enough can pull off whatever they choose to. All they've got to do is have the confidence.

[ She could probably put it off to him being so damn old too, but, well, that's not exactly information he's keen on divulging anyway. ]

You're in New York now, Darling. There are men roaming about far more forward than myself.

[she's already done both. Both remind her of Jackson. But she won't volunteer that information if he doesn't question, and even then, she doubts she'll do so. Not when she could keep things to a nice, casual fling.

[Everyone has their things they don't want to share.]

So I suppose that's a compliment, however backwards it might have been. [her little smile grows that much more intrigued, one neatly penciled eyebrow twitching.] All right. I suppose I could humour you and try it. As long as you don't give me some stupid line about it looking better on your bedroom floor.

[she takes the hangar from him, her smile knowing and amused, before she turns on her heel to stride off to the nearest fitting room. It doesn't take her that long to get it on, and to step back out, posing for him with her red-lined lips set in a delicate pout of a smile.]

Well?

open rp post ❧

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nathaniel archibald | gossip girl

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peter parker | the amazing spider-man

have a werewolf professor :B

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accepted :B

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