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Clio Gabriella was a person that Maxwell used to know. Well, technically he did still know her, but given the… mistake he had made, he felt as if it was best that he acted like he didn’t. She had been popular. Cheerful. Bubbly. It had only been natural that Maxwell asked her out when she had shown interest in him. It had only been natural that he saw her as the Cleopatra to his Julius Caesar. And, when it was clear that Clio was not what she seemed to be, it had been only clear that the relationship would be a failure. A poor choice of Maxwell’s. A regrettable experience.
And when they broke up, once he had learned to avoid those eyes of her's, it had only been a week before she was hopping onto someone else.
That, to Maxwell, told him more about who she was more than anything else she’d done while they were dating.
She was yapping on behind him. Being her usual egotistical, toxic, constantly-need-to-be-the-center-of-attention-in-order-to-get-over-whatever-abandonment-issues-I-have self. Telling Maxwell to acknowledge her even though he had just done so, a moment ago.
He didn’t really want to have to bear with this anymore.
He stood up. Looked around. Took his steps to where Paris’ group seemed to be.
Proceeded to reunite himself with better company.
“Hello, may I ask what we are talking about?”

Front Flip for Style
Maxwell Lombardi did not particularly want to be walking through Tiles Park right now.
((Continued from Guess Who’s Back, Back Again?))
It was a grungy place. It was a grimy place. It was a place that someone of Maxwell’s status would ideally not be caught dead in. The reason for this was that Denton was not exactly a pristine place, and although Maxwell could give himself better surroundings in Kensington, those incapable of reaching the higher classes had to live down in Tiles Court, where crime seemed to be incredibly and increasingly common. Given Maxwell’s well-off manner, his fairly lavish way of dressing - even now - and his desire to keep the spot on the social totem pole he wanted to be in, it would be a fairly bad idea to walk down here and risk the chance that Maxwell would get robbed. He was aware of that.
However, going through this place, going through Tiles Park, did annoyingly have its advantages. Advantages Maxwell could not seem to be able to attain anywhere else.
It was an ideal place for him to go whenever he was on a jog, was what he was referring to. It was a place that - if he ran down from Kensington to here, walked for a few moments, and then ran back up to Kensington - allowed him to come from his house and be back in a good amount of time while still covering the distance he felt he should run for. If he scheduled his runs so that they took the same amount of time each day he did them, it would keep him in shape, and allow him to maintain enough time in order to pursue his other needs, social and academic.
No matter how hard he seemed to try going to any of the other places near Carrington did not allow this equilibrium to happen, either not providing Maxwell enough exercising or taking too much time away from him.
As thus, he had to go to Tiles Park, the lowest place in the city.
Oh, the sacrifices Maxwell had to make just so that he could get the amount of exercise he wanted.
But that did not matter now. He was currently walking through Tiles Park, allowing his legs to rest in a walk after his jog down. Although he would have liked to do the walking part of his routine somewhere else, this was again annoyingly the only place it felt right to do so in, and although he was annoyed at that, he didn’t really want to be. This was the part of the walk where he was supposed to relax. Cool down. Not feel anger at the fact that he had to be here. Not feel a latent sense of paranoia that some cunt was going to try and mug or stab or hustle him.
No. This was the relaxing part. He brought his phone out from his pocket and typed the password in, looking at it while he walked in order to see if anything he was in had updated in that brief ten minutes spent running.
The first notification he got, the first notification on Messenger, was an all too fond one from a name and profile picture he knew very well, at this point.

Lyndi Thibodeaux 📱 2/17, 11:12 AM
hey max, how's it going? : )

He smiled, slightly. It was nice how much it seemed that she cared about him. If one were to talk to Lyndi just a few weeks earlier, and bring up Maxwell, she would have likely been fairly neutral about him. There would have been a sense that she liked him there, but the sense would have been one of casual friendship, shared experience at the top of the school totem pole, as opposed to honest and open fondness
Things had changed though, in the past few weeks. After that incident in the cafeteria, after that point in time where Alex had decided that he was going to be particularly insufferable, the two of them had decided to go outside and sit together. They talked, and they laughed, and Maxwell decided that he would have liked something like this to happen again, and thus asked her out to have coffee at Central Mall. She accepted, and they went together, but from between that point to the end of their date it seemed that her thoughts on him had changed from mild friendship to slight devotion. She had made those feelings known to him, she asked if they could go on further dates together, and after a moment of thinking about it, he decided to accept those feelings. Make them as his own. Maybe he didn’t feel quite as in love with her as she did him, but she was fun to be around, and she was a whole of a lot more interesting to interact with than the vast majority of the other people here, and she was incredibly attractive, and that was good enough for Maxwell.
He wasn’t entirely sure how long it was going to last, he wasn’t entirely sure if there was an endpoint to this relationship, but he didn’t mind that. He liked her. He would not mind being with her for the next couple of months at all. That was all that really needed to be stated.
He put a reply into his phone and closed it, before putting it back in his pocket. He looked up again. There were people around. An old lady with a dog coming his way. A jogger coming up from behind him. A person who looked like he was in Maxwell’s year, laying down on a park bench. That last one caused particular worry. That last one was a risk that Maxwell would be seen here. He walked, slightly faster, past the bench.
And then jumped as the dog suddenly started barking as loud as it could at him.

The amusement park in front of her was dilapidated. Decaying. Even though the fence had been erected around it, even though she wasn’t allowed to step any further, Jasmine could still see the remains from here. She could still see the Ferris Wheel that she had been on, remembered the view she’d seen of the sea. She could see the stalls which she had played all those years ago, and she knew that the bear she'd won, the bear she’d earned, was still in her bedroom, sitting on her armchair. She could see the rollercoaster at the back, and it still gave her a smile. Her parents had wanted her and her siblings to go on together, and Jasmine could still see the colour draining from Primrose’s face as she realized that she was just tall enough to be able to go on the ride.
Jasmine laughed. Chuckled, as she began to walk around the perimeter. That day had been around four years ago, and she could still remember the details. She could still feel the high. She could still play through the memories.
And honestly, she preferred those memories. If she had a choice, if she had to decide whether she wanted to be in the past or whether she wanted to be here, right now? She knew which option she’d take. She knew where she would want to be.
Anywhere that wasn’t here, really.
((Jasmine King: SCDos Pregame (Re)Start))
Today was Saffron’s 20th birthday. It had actually been a couple of days ago, but by the way that her parents were going on about it you would imagine that today was Christmas. They - as a family minus Aster, due to his track meet - had gone out together to the seaside to have dinner at one of the restaurants. They had ordered, they had waited for five minutes before Jasmine asked if she could go for a walk. Part of that had been because she wanted to explore, but another part of that had been because she was already sick of the talk. Her parents had been talking to Saffron like he was the son of Christ right in front of her and she haven't even had an Aster to listen to instead.
But you know that you could change that. You know that if you tried harder, if you actually try pursuing him you could overtake him. Show them that you’re better. Make them talk about you, instead.
But there really wasn’t a point. There really was no way she could take the spotlight off of Saffron. Even if she could, it was his birthday. The day was supposed to be all about him as much as any other.
But you can. You can work for it. You can take the spotlight off of him.
You’re better than him.
You know that.


Honestly, she didn’t even know why she'd decided to come out here with the rest of her family anyway. She could have made an excuse. She could have gone someplace else, instead. She didn’t even like fish anyway.
She sighed.
At least she could walk around the edge of the amusement park, like she was doing right now.
At least she could think about better things.
At least you don’t have to deal with them, now.

Jasmine King
Changes made!

Jasmine King
Changes made!

Okay then.
Paris had left, apparently to go get Yasmin. Maxwell thought he had tried to stop Paris from doing that with what he said, but no. Paris decided that he was set on doing it anyway and went to go get her. That was annoying, that wasn’t really ideal for Maxwell, but it’d be fine. He supposed he could have a conversation. Who knew? Maybe someone lower on the totem pole than his other company would be interesting, for a change. At the very least it probably wouldn’t be awful. At the very least the person behind the couch had decided to… scuttle off. It looked like Maxwell was alone, now. It looked like Maxwell was no longer the center of the room.
And honestly, that was agreeable with him. It meant that he could relax, slightly. It meant that he could take his time to observe other people all around the room. It meant that he could listen to the much more agreeable song playing on the loudspeakers.
He thought he could.
But then she showed up and brought all her self-important raging bitchy baggage with her.
Honestly, he was somewhat hoping that Paris could come back. Whoever he tried to embarrass Maxwell with, at least they would probably be better company with what he had right now.
He didn’t turn his head to see her. He just kept it straight. Looked at the TV in front of him. Let her reflection tell that he didn’t want to look backwards, right now.
“I was looking at someone else Paris pointed in that direction. Not at you.”

Adoptin' Johnny off, claim him here
Johnny has been handed off to Maraoone.

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