Kishan and Ren's Invitation

[Moonie]

Kishan looked at his brother with pure hatred. A vacation. In the hottest spot in the world, filled with tons of people. And Ren was glad about it. Surely the zoo could have kept them for the summer. Who else was going to watch the tigers and care for them? He knew he would be coming back to a few deaths. There was nobody else with skills and understanding like theirs.

"Come on, Kishan. Its just a vacation at the best beach place ever. Quit spoiling it."

"I'm not going. End of discussion." Kishan walked away from his brother, but to no avail. Ren roughly grabbed his brother's shirt from behind and began dragging him to the car.

"Too bad. We're going. This is what normal people do. You bust your ass at work and you get two month, maybe more, paid vacation. Your stuff is already in the car."

[Juicebox]

Shrill, high, and absolutely deafening. Goddamnit, what was with the shrieking?

Raspy and low, a moan reverberated from the woman's slender throat as she tiredly resuscitated herself from sleep. Useless to ignore her sister at this point, she rubbed the exhaustion from her eyes and whisked herself from the bed. Vællin followed the screams down into the kitchen, grateful to see coffee already brewed. "I know that's not you practicing your vocals. What's going on?" She murmured, making herself a cup of sweet, reviving elixir. The woman almost dripped the revitalizing drink in shock as her sister gripped her shoulder, bouncing on her feet excitedly with a letter in hand. Oh god, what was it? A sudden dread unknowing the note's content chilled her.

Evelyn paid no attention to her sister's lackluster interest, having enough enthusiasm for them both. Holding the evident source of her happiness to the girl's face in both hands, she gave a triumphant grin that was close to splitting her face in two. Strangely the expression reminded Vællin of a cat and earned her attention for a moment, it was enough to for Evey to forge on with the news involving them both. "Remember when I faxed our applications to that new tv show last month?"

Vællin stopped blowing on the hot refreshment in abrupt remembrance, the cold fear now turned her frigid. Honeyed eyes grew wide, wary to continue this conversation but saw no opening to elude the inevitable. She gave a slow nod, bracing herself with a long sip and rested her hips against the countertop. "The one you wouldn't shut up about for an entire week until I caved in? Yeah, I remember. What about it?"

The woman narrowed her eyes; coffee set aside, she crossed her arms on her chest. Her expression turned sullen at the growing smile on her sister's face. This promised nothing but trouble, Vællin thought in apprehension of her sister's joy. The next words substantiated her worries, verified in the very explanation given. "We got it! We got in, we're going to be on television together. They sent us tickets to the resort, we have to be there by tomorrow. I better start packing."

"No."

Answer came fast and hard in an unwavering voice, crushing the blithe twin like a rockslide. Lips pouted, Evelyn sat down in a chair and threw her arms wildly into the air. Inimical to her decision, the woman pointed a manicured finger at her sister. "And why not?"

"Besides it being a waste of my time and a horribly shallow means of entertainment to thousands of speculators I care nothing about? I don't want to." Vællin finished her cup and removed herself from the work surface effortlessly. Unfazed by her sister's crestfallen face, she gave a lop-sided smirk with a last bit of truth. "I'm sure I'll lose my sanity around so many strangers and commit murder on live broadcast."

"They won't accept only me, it's a package deal- the both of us or I don't get to go. Consider this my birthday present, from you to me."

"We share the same birthday and mine would be not to go, dumbass. Plus that's a week away, this is now and I still don't want to." Under her twin's pleading gaze, Vællin felt her walls of resistance crumbled under the great weight of guilt. Sighing, the woman dropped her face into an upturned palm and laid her torso on the countertop. Groaning, she surrendered in a small hiss. "Fine, we'll go. Go pack before I change my mind. I'm already regretting this."

For the second time that morning, her sister's screams filled the house with only her regret to occlude the noise. Her mind was too busy berating her choice to listen to the girl's incoherent garble, not even listening as she ran upstairs to stow away their things for the trip. What did I just agree to? Vællin decided she would rather spend her last morning at home rooted to her current spot, in defeat.

[Juicebox]

Forest of ethereal beauty was aglow in the gloaming evenfall. Tall trees weaved paths in the vast distance overseen only by map to the heart of his booming settlement. Beautiful elflings were fast at work, some military and on guard at all openings of his city. Others, diligently building establishments or oring resources desperately needed to keep their home alive. They stood strong, they stood proud. They were his people. He would lead them to victory against the corrupted mortalkind and restore--

"Hey loser, you got mail."
Mild thump to his head averted his attention from the computer screen as a sealed letter fell into his lap. Glaring, Hope watched his brother laugh at his startled expression then slam the door to his bedroom behind him. Reminding himself to get a new set of locks, the ashen boy arched a pale brow at the plain envelope then tore it open. A ticket fell from the sleeve onto the floor. Tossing the casing onto his desk, he reached for the slip and read the bold letters in slow realization.

In a panicked frenzy, Hope yanked the letter from the envelope and read the confirmation to his hopes. He made it. He was going to be on the show. Done on a dare, the ashen youth submitted an application with no real hopes of obtaining a spot. Now here he was, one of the lucky few ensured to be granted this lifetime chance. Silly with relief, he almost felt like Charlie with his golden ticket. Grinning with delirious delight, the boy pressed the speaker button on the side of his headset.

"Guys, guess who's going to be on TIRTV."

[Moonie]

"Vanille! You better be joking with me. This isn't the least bit funny." Fang had slapped her hand down on the table angrily, looking sharply at the girl with her cerulean eyes. A television show? She had seen enough of reality shows and all this was going to accomplish was scarring the girl. Her life would be in the open for the whole world to see and Fang knew she wouldn't be there to beat the crap out of anyone who messed with the younger girl.

"Your words are a little contradictive, Fang. Do you want it to be funny or not?" asked the younger pink haired girl innocently. "I don't see why it matters, anyway! I'm eighteen. I can do what I want."

"But when was the last time that happened? You always ask for permission, even after your birthday. And what about school?" The woman fought hard not to tear up the envelope. It was Vanille's right. She was an adult now. But it didn't make it right. She hated it when the younger girl decided random things, especially behind her back. "I'm not arguing this anymore, Vanille."

"Goodn. Because I've already validated it. I have to leave in the morning." Vanille almost winced when Fang directed a burning glare at her. But she held the look with her own emerald one. Standing and straightening her shoulders, she crossed her arms. "I'm sorry, Fang. But for once, I want to do something I feel like doing on my own. You wont have to worry. I'll call to make sure you know I'm okay. But now... I'm running away!"

Vanille beamed a smile and bounced her way up the stairs to her bedroom. In order to leave in the morning, she had to get ahead on packing. Back in the kitchen, Fang sighed and shook her head. It was bound to happen sooner or later. She just wished it was in town and not some far away beach.

[Juicebox]

Five minutes, still nothing. Annoying bastard.

Ten minutes, not a damn word. Okay. Creepy.

Going on twenty now, how the fuck was he doing that?

"Fucking blink already, you're freaking me out staring like that." The drummer half-yelled at his cousin, who sat in blatant skepticism, unblinking. He nudged the inscrutable onlooker at the end of his bed with his foot, emphasizing his remark in brisk jabs.

"Bullshit."

Finally, the living statue spoke. Prompto grinned at the guitarist's dubiety, throwing the verification letter from his pocket to the nonbeliever. "Proof," While he read in doubt, the teenager walked to his closet and pulled out his dufflebag. Not with much thought, he began throwing clothes off hangers into the case in a sloven manner. "Already called in and made arrangements. I leave for my bunking quarters tonight."

"Damn it. I came over here to get away from Lienna and you're about to leave without a word. Now where the hell am I supposed to go, you shit. Wait, does he know about this? You'd think he'd give a fuck about our drummer pulling a fast one on him." Brett quirked a quizzical brow then began re-folding the slob's clothes neatly into the carryall. The blond kicked the weathered instrument portmanteau closed, sighing as a hand feverishly abraded the back of his scalp.

"No- that ass doesn't care, fuck all and he never will. He didn't even bat an eye when I told him. I need to get away. Fuck strangers or something, anything to get that asshole out of my head." Prompto groused bitterly, hauling off his luggage out the room and down the stairs. His cousin snorted, following behind in leisure, offering no aid to his struggling grip on the baggage.

"Sounds smart, very classy. What about the band? We'll be a drummer short. We can't cancel all our shows because of you. There's no way we can afford that contract deposit. "

"Don't worry, I talked to some of the producers about me leaving after shooting hours. They said I can take leave on editing and vacation days for our gigs after signing a waiver."

Nice to know his concern was for his well-being and not something selfish- like the band, he thought in sardonic resent. Huffing, the blond stopped at garage door in mental and physical fatigue. Brett took his car keys from him and made a grab at the dufflebag, leading them to the trunk. "I don't understand why you aren't more direct with him about all of this."

This time, Prompto was the one to snort at his comment. Oh yes, that would have surely worked. What the fool he was not to think of that first. Clearly his expression must've exhibited his thoughts out for display; because no second sooner than did he scoff at him, Brett's hand slapped his chest harshly. "Direct? You mean strip down and jump him while I shout my confession in his bed?"

"Yeah, that. But I could've done without the visual of you being naked- thanks." His cousin replied, loading all the drummer's things into the back of the vehicle. Prompto smirked, purposely batting his eyes in taunt at the man beside him. "Because I'm incandescently sexy, it's so immoral to think this highly of family?"

Eyes rolled heavenward at the horrible humor, slamming the trunk closed after the car was packed. "Oh, funny. Funny guy. But seriously, if you grew some balls and flat-out told him you like him then you wouldn't have to run away every time things get tense between you two."

"Says the twit who is hiding from his angry girlfriend at his cousin's place."

"Touché. How long will you be doing this thing for?" Tossing the keys back to him, he leaned against the car. The man's expression was pressed in real sympathy. Rare as it was- Prompto chuckled at him, nonetheless. It was like having a naggy girlfriend the way he acted. "I dunno, a month maybe? Hopefully long enough to get over him and move on to greener pastures. Okay, that's all of it. Need to be there in an hour, gotta get going."

Not leaving any more openings for discussion, he swiftly bumped his cousin off the car with his shoulder then moved to his seat. Brett held the door open before Prompto could escape completely. Exhaling tautly, he scowled in dejection. "You sure you want to do this? He's going to notice something's up if you leave like this."

"No, he won't. He never does. Which is why I need to go."

[Juicebox]

"What makes you think this is a good idea? I know you're new to the whole dishonesty thing, but you must've hit your head while getting off your moral high road." Danyeal bluntly told the man on the Olympic Bench. His smile had diverted his friend's attention from exercise, earning a miffed stare- the closest to a glare Dante ever came to.

"And what exactly is wrong with my plan?"

Disinterested in what his partner's reasoning, Dante reached for his water bottle. Danny threw a sweat towel at the brunette's face in defiance, smirking. "Okay, first is the actual fact you submitted an entry for a crappy tv show-"

Dante removed the cloth from his face, slowing sponging away the perspiration matted on his flesh and hair. Another stare was given, it would've made any lesser man wet his drawers but Danny was used to it by now. Pressed to defend his decision, the man stood from his seat firmly.

"It's not any juvenile television show. It's a documentary that studies the social relations between today's modern generation and the psychological correlations between the participating residents." Dante answered in a tone that brooked no argument. Somehow, this went over his friend entirely or he frankly gave up caring about consideration. "Right. Because TIRTV is so deep and the audience watches it for its educational values. Let's not forget you're skipping out on this summer's tournament to do this and lying to your old man about it. Being your replacement is going to get both our asses kicked when he finds out."

Keeping in stride, the conversation continued as they left the gym for the showers."By the time my father realizes I have disobeyed his wishes, it'll be too late to amend my actions. I'm an adult and he has to accept this sooner or later, this is only a small reminder of that. I'm not going to be a fighter forever or under his oppression. This study will be perfect for my research paper, there is no way I would miss this opportunity. It was the only condition I gave for joining the cast."

Dante shrugged off his clothes and went under the water apparatus, ignoring Danny's grimace over the prospect of their punishment. He sighed, ending his washing short and rejoined his friend. Amidst his redressing, the fighter solemnly addressed another issue in a quiet voice. "Thank you Danyeal. For covering me this summer, I owe you one when I return." Slipping his used towels into the hamper, the pair exited the locker room- Danyeal's face splitting in a smile. "No need to thank me, Buddha. Honestly, I didn't want to earn your spot in the championship this way. When you get back, pay me back with a fight in the ring. Deal?"

"Deal."

[Moonie]

Juniper took the mail out of her numbered cubby and shifted through the envelopes, even as her friend babbled tirelessly behind her. When she finally reached the fifth one, she dropped the others and squealed silently to herself. She had put in to be drawn for a reality television show in hopes of being able to use it as an experience in one of her classes. Also to get out of this college and meet some people really worth knowing. Possibly even have a romance or two. Wouldn't her mother love to see that one afternoon while settling down after work. Ripping the letter out, she read over the words carefully to make sure it was an acceptance and not a denial.

“Kristle, shut up. I got accepted to that show!” she interrupted loudly, enough to get the other girl's attention. “This means I get to spend a couple of months on a nice beach and meet guys as an assignment! One of the easiest things I've had to do in this school other than make clothes.” Juniper remembered she had to tell her teacher immediately so she could leave as soon as possible.

“But what about-”

“Not now. I have to go find Mr. Avers. Talk to you later, Kristle.” Juniper dashed off without a second glance, leaving her friend struggling on her words. It was only a matter of minutes before she swung the door open to her teacher's class. Looking around, she was grateful she had caught him before he left. Moving up to the desk in swift steps, she set the paper down on his desk. “I've been accepted to the show, Mr. Avers. I need to leave as soon as possible, seeing as they booked a flight for me tomorrow morning.”

The teacher glanced over the letter, then glanced up at the girl. “Alright, then. You better get packed. I'll get the details situated while you're gone. I would advise that you keep notes or something, in case things get a little overwhelming and you forget about something. Details are essential.”

“You won't be disappointed.”

[Moonie]

It had been like every other day. He would go to work for hours, spending the entire time researching and tracking criminals down. Then, after work, he would get himself his usual sandwich. A sub sandwich with salami, pepperoni, roast beef, provolone cheese, olives and pickles. Then he would go home and do nothing, go to bed and have nightmares, then start his whole routine over again the next day. But today wouldn't be one of those days. He had a gut feeling.

Just as he was grabbing his jacket and getting ready to leave, his boss, O'Hara, came around the corner. Kris laid his jacket on his desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms over his chest. He followed the man with his crystalline eyes until he stopped in front of him. Kris noted the way he slightly shuffled his feet, fidgeted his hands and arms. His stare went cold.

“We're not going through this again, sir. I'm not taking a vacation for a recovery I don't need. Just because my attitude has changed does not make me useless,” he hissed in a low tone. O'Hara cleared his throat at the sudden declaration against his efforts to give him time off since the incident, but that had been months ago. The boy acted like he had been pushing him this whole time.

“Well, it isn't really about that. But you are going on vacation. You're overdue for one.” Kris stood quickly, taking a step closer. “You have no choice, Kris. You need to be more social. You've quit doing everything you used to do before the incident. Everyone is actually worried about your health because of it.”

“Health? Since when has social ties become part of a healthy diet, sir? I'm completely fine. You're worries are misplaced and wasted.” O'Hara didn't back away or give up his fight, however. Instead, he held out an envelope toward the younger, black haired man. Kris took the envelope without hesitation and ripped it open, pulling the thin paper out. His eyes quickly glanced over the words, his face setting deeper into an emotionless stone. His eyes darted up to look at his boss, to bore holes into his face. “A reality television show? I think this is stepping outside of personal boundaries here. I gave no consent to this decision.”

“It's a done deal, Kris. Just go. Maybe you'll remember what kind of a kid you used to be and bring back some good times to this place.”