What the frigg? (OPEN)

[Charlotte Styles]

The hallway was full of hurrying teens trying to get to their lockers and straight to their next class. People were worried about getting their in time, worried that teachers would get upset. But their is one girl, yeah, that certain girl who couldn't give a shit about class. Yeah, the one walking from the end of the hall. New heels on her feet with skiny legged black jeans, a white and pink patterned singlet top which tightly wrap around her boobs and body. The chick walking and everyone looking to her. But their first impulse isn't to say hi, but to get the hell out of the way.

Walking in the middle of the hall she saw that people were moving to clear the road for her. And that power, man, it was like a drug. She did not smile but calmly walked passed them. That was until a young freshmen was in her road. Short and petty she then kept walking. Finally he started to move but she wasn't going to stop and then palmed him out of the way frowning.

''Get the fuck out of my way'', she said with a smile and kept walking. Turning into English room she just kept walking and saw her seat. It was out the back in the middle, and everyone knew that was her spot. So everyone knew not to sit their. Still walking towards the seat, she slowed down gradually. Great, another fucking shit worth of shit class that she had to sit herself through. As long as she got her seat, and it will top off her day if she sees anyone go to sit their.

[L.C. Milliner]

*//outfit

L.C. was having a good day.

She had been transferred to new classes for second semester, including a higher level English class, which meant she had proved something- with enough sleep, she could get a passing grade. Sean could mumble and grumble all her wanted- she still stood by her tranquilizers for all her sleeping needs. She hadn’t gotten a nightmare in three months. It was enough of a change that she almost wasn’t a bitch anymore.

Well, almost.

The brunette planted her foot into the ass of some guy in front of her, pushing him with the sole of her foot roughly. “Get outta my way!” Most days, L.C. went with subtle bitching. Today, however, as the weather got colder, she rebelled by digging out her old cargo shorts from her sophomore year and the pair of shoes she had stolen her freshman year. (She never got caught for it. Proud of herself? Yeah.) Many people who saw the outfit remembered it and cringed as she passed- it was a symbol of days long past that they had hoped would never return. They weren’t returning, that was for certain, but she still liked to scare the older students once in a while.

It was also her way of rebelling against the cold weather; Sean’s thermometer had told her it was 22 degrees outside. She stuck her tongue out at the offending mechanism of measure and had donned her outfit. She was surprised Sean hadn’t made her change, but he was expecting that she would chicken out once the cold weather got to her. He had forgotten, however, her stint on the street for two months- not all of it was spent inside. Most of it was, but not all of it. And it was damn cold in New York.

Navigating her way to the classroom, L.C. opened the door with her hip and surveyed the class. Many of them gave her a shy wave or ducked their heads. She saluted a few of the kids in front and surveyed the room. She noted that Vincent was not, I repeat, not around. (But he could always be late. It was Vincent.) She donned a slight smile on the edge of her mouth and made her way to an open seat- it was at the back of the room and in the very center. It meant she could sit on the desk rather than the chair, or lean back and sleep, or even prop her feet up. Her bag was slung over the side and, amongst the flurry of kids getting ready for class, L.C. sat down with a thump and picked her feet up, sitting them on the desk like she owned it.

In a way, she did- she saw a dime sized hole in the top right corner.

“You better move...” Someone muttered to her. “That’s Charlotte’s seat.”

L.C. considered this for a moment. Start off on a bad foot on her first day or lose her seat? Hmm, decisions, decisions. She turned to the guy and smiled. “I’ll inform you when I start giving a damn.”

Like hell if L.C. gave anything up without a fight.

[Charlotte Styles]

Making her way towards the desk, Charlie got out her cellphone. She dialled in her girlfriends number sending a message saying, 'meet mee in dah lockr room skank'. She pressed send, and then put her phone into her pocket as she walked towards her seat. But then she looked and saw her their. L.C Milliner, miss cold heart and no fashion, the girl that who puts the shit in shitucki mushrooms. And her cargo covered ass was planted in Charlie's seat. What was it, international piss Charlie the fuck off day? So walking towards her she stopped in front of the desk.

''What the fuck is this? Listen L.C Mega Mutt, I don't think you realize you are sitting in my seat bitch. Now get off it now'', she threatened to her. Really, this had to be a joke. Everyone knew to let everyone know that in fucked language 101, that was Charlie's seat. She then looked to the freshman in the seat next to her usual seat.
''Hey prick thanks for reserving the seat. Now go swing you iron ass somewhere else now'', she said to L.C and to the freshman and waited for action. She would be mega pissed is L.C didn't move. Their was an empty seat next to it, but at that moment she could give a shit. Her seat; hers. What part of that wasn't L.C getting.

[L.C. Milliner]

As Charlotte came up, texting on her phone, L.C. could feel the anxiety in the air from the people around her. Some of them even scooted their desks away from her, as if clearing a path to a target. The female didn’t care- instead, she focused on the advancing female, who had caught sight of her. L.C. smiled at her, a condescending smirk she reserved only for those she loathed. Charlotte was so pretty! Charlotte was so popular. Oh please. L.C. would rather puke then accept the idea that Charlotte ruled the school. As far as L.C. was concerned, she would start another revolution if that was the general consensus.

Her first act of rebellion: not moving an inch.

The words hurled at her might as well have been left unsaid. They didn’t do anything but give L.C. more ammo. “Oh come on, you can do better than that. Petty insults are sooo last season, didn’t you know?” She mocked. If Charlotte wanted to play her game, L.C. could follow a few rules. She knew how to get under the rich girl’s skin. It was almost as easy as getting under Zac’s. The teens around the girl snickered a little, but quieted, trying not to get involved with the action. Some were looking for a teacher. Whose class was this, anyway? Dalton’s? There were so many new teachers coming around that the teen didn’t bother to ask anymore. There was always an adult at the front of the room. That’s all she cared about. As is was, L.C. didn’t bother to look for the teacher; she was too focused on the snotty teen in front of her. Wasn’t Charlotte younger than her? What happened to seniority?

“It’s funny, that you say this is your desk. Because, ah, last time I checked, I didn’t see your fucking name on it.” The last part was more of a snarl, and everyone who didn’t push their desks away before hastily peeled away from them. She heard some desks hit other ones. They knew better then to piss off the Iron Maiden. “But, lessee.” L.C. leaned to look around her. “Past your huge ass hips,” (Oh yes, she went there.) “I see an open seat up front. So how about you move your ass and go sit? Or you could do your little poofing thing and save the walk. You do it enough already, right thunder thighs?” L.C. was pulling out all the stops, one by one. Charlotte wanted to make fun of her power; she could make fun of hers. As far as L.C. knew, she weighed less than the other girl, still, so she could throw a few weight jokes at her, even if she was skinny as a rail. The bitch could take it. It wasn’t like she had confidence issues or anything.

[Charlotte Styles]

Okay, this bitch gotta move. She had to admit she had guts, fat guts really. She was the girl that marched around school being the tough girl on campus. But please, what else could she expect from white trash. Facades were fun to have, but really little bitches should learn to take off their masks sometimes. Charlie just glared at her remark of insults being last season. She leant forward towards L.C, glaring.
''It might be hoe, but kicking your lopsided ass isn't'', she hissed. She could here the chatter from students around her and glanced at one, leaning back up. Wow, she would love to bash the living shit out of this girl right now. She could, but she wouldn't. She had morals, kicking her ass would get her on detention. Detention; she could give a shit. Really, but it was just a waste of time.

L.C started on her ass and thighs. Really? At least she had an ass then some fleshy sand dunes that are equivilent to a fucking surf board. She wanted to go, then Charlie was ready.
''Listen here you fucking dike. Doesn't surprise you have been focused on my ass. You flaunt your les shit about like the clothes you get from bargain bins. I have no problem with them, I have a problem with you. So really L.C Man, take your butch shit out of my fucking seat. My thighs? I actually work on my appearance sweetie, I don't just walk out of the room wearing ninties shit like you are fucking Jolie. So sweetie, if you don't want to get the fuck out of my seat, I could just do this'', she said at her. It wasn't personal retaliation, it was just that she was not going to fucking lose. No way! So smiling she then put her marcured hands onto the desk. She then teleported, taking the desk and chair with her. In dark red purple energy they disappeared and reappered two feet behind L.C. L.C was left sitting on nothing and fell, where Charlie reappeared sitting in the seat smiling at the meta hoe. No one, repeat, no one fucks with her.

''Awe, sweetie, now your making the floor look bad''.

OOC: this is so fun.

[L.C. Milliner]

When Charlotte started in on L.C. being a lesbian, most girls would’ve gotten pissed or even would’ve started to cry right then and there. L.C., however, had to resist the urge to crack up.

Needless to say, she failed. Miserably.

L.C. snorted, and then burst out laughing hysterically. “Oh, damn, you caught me. I have a big lesbian crush on you.” The sentence with dripping with enough sarcasm that the idiot girl would even pick up on it, and the kids around her snorted a little and looked away, muttering to themselves about how L.C. had just quoted some movie they couldn’t remember. “And I’m sorry, honey, but see, I don’t work a corner, so I don’t have the money to buy skank clothes.” She eyed Charlotte when she said that, not jealous of her outfit at all. L.C. may have bargain shopped, but she wore what she was comfortable with. So what if they were ‘90’s clothes’ or whatever the hell she was saying? She’d sport nineties. Hell, she’d sport the eighties if it were cheaper. (It wasn’t. Stupid retro shit.)

L.C. raised an eyebrow as she watched the girl grab hold of the desk, but her smile disappeared when the desk did, and she landed on the floor with a resounding thud. Her head hit the back wall and for a moment, she saw stars. She saw the desk materialize out of the corner of her eye, her bag still hanging off the back. She sat up, blinking the stars out of her eyes, and saw everyone was staring at her. Some were suppressing smiles, others were gulping in horror. The nineteen year old meta stood slowly, and everyone held their breath as she got up and began dusting herself off calmly. They held their breath as she cracked her knuckles. They held their breath as she went over toward the desk and stood next to Charlotte, looking down at her with an unreadable expression. They held their breath as she picked up her bag off the back of the seat. And, she turned around. She heard the exhaling sounds surrounding her.

Then, she turned around, grabbed the edge of the desk, and, with every ounce of strength, tipped it over. There was the sound of grinding as L.C.’s iron ability gave her a better grasp, spikes drilling holes into the wood. She all but threw it sideways, shoving it once it was on the ground to make sure the former occupant slid on the floor a bit, and then dragged it back to its former spot. The students nearby had run, pressed themselves against walls, or had spilled out into the hall. Where the hell was the teacher? The winning girl righted the desk and sat on the tabletop, dropping her bag in the seat. She narrowed her eyes at the other female. “Now, you little slut, you have two options. Find another seat, or try to take this one again and make your rat face more ugly then it already fucking is.” She opened her palms and a thousand slanted dull gray spikes erupted from her skin, making her hands look similar to that of a cheese grater. “You choose, cunt.” Surprisingly, her voice was calm, barely above its average level. Most females would be shrieking, but L.C. wasn’t one for that.

Just as her mother had once pointed out, she could be civil when she was rude.

[Charlotte Styles]

Charlie smiled towards her opponent. This was the shit to make her day. She would have finished class, gone to the salon and out shopping, but no. She had to put up with this mega fucking bitch contest. So sophmore, this had to stop. Her retaliation trying to make it joke but Charlie wasn't going to let it slide.
''Well, that is what most people say. Only locker room talk so take it personal'', she said but L.C really was the butch bitch Charlie thought. As she sat in her seat, L.C then grabbed the desk and using her fucking disgusting brute strength flipped the table to the side. It took Charlie and she gasped as she swung out of the seat. She glided face first towards the floor but last second, she teleported safely. Reappearing near L.C, this bitch will be pissing blood when Charlie kicks her fucking cunt in. Approaching, she was really pissed off.

Glaring at the girl she heard her options. What about smack L.C over the head with a fucking pool que, jam it up her ass and sell her for two bugs at a fucking kebab stand. She glared at her and then took a step forward. ''I will shred you you whore. Oh, wait. Your to fucking ugly to have people pay. Slut then'', she hissed and then stepped to the side, looking to the desk. She then put her hands on it and teleported away with it. She reappeared in the fucking Artic in the air dropping it in the air towards the snowy ground. She was only their for a few seconds but it was fucking cold. Teleporting back a few feet away from the fucking train wreck, she smiled at her.
''Problemed solved now bitch. Now know not to fuck with me. But you have guts I must say, I like you. I am having a party next week. At my penthouse, free booze and a bunch of hotties. Come. But really, don't - fuck - with - me'', she said once again. But really, she hated the ugly slut. But this just shows that she is fucking woman enough to end it with honor or whatever. She can go to her party, have a good time, pass out on the fucking kitchen counter with a pile of vile vodka vommit sitting next to her, she could give a shit. So she nicely went over to the guys with the six packs and nice hair as she sat in the available seat in the middle of them. Her and L.C were going to fight again, but until then.. No One Messes With Charlie Styles!..

[L.C. Milliner]

If L.C. was a telepath and had heard everything Charlotte had thought in the two second span of her teleport, her hands would’ve been around the younger female’s neck and there would be a sickening crack to show for it. As it was, the female cocked an eyebrow and snorted. “Oh please. Just because that’s how you make your money doesn’t mean the rest of us do the same.” L.C. blew at her bangs and shook her head to get them out of her eyes. “Besides, if the rest of the female population charged, you’d be out of a job.”Did L.C. just insinuate that Charlotte was bad in bed? Maybe. Yes.

When the desk was taken away once more, L.C. didn’t fall on the floor, but instead turned her head with the rest of the student population to watch Charlotte appear outside, drop it, and teleport back in. L.C. quirked an eyebrow. “You just gave up your desk to the snow. Congratulations… You still lose.” With that, L.C. dragged a recently vacated desk from a row over and put it in the spot the other desk had been in. “I still win.” Something about Charlotte was just getting under L.C.’s skin. It might be the fake emotions, but she wasn’t sure. All L.C. knew was that normally she wasn’t this petty, even in her bitchy heyday. She wasn’t even this bitchy around LaRousse, and that was saying something. This wasn’t a contest- this was all out war. The female sat in the seat, aching from flipping the desk. Her fingers tingled like they were falling asleep and she flexed her fingers as she looked up at the other girl, ready to fight, but she realized she had just been invited to a party.

Wait. Rewind. What?

“…You are psycho.” L.C. said, staring at her with the most confused look she could muster. They had just tried to rip each other’s faces off and she was inviting her to a party? “I wouldn’t go to your preppy ass party if you paid me.” Partly because L.C. feared the girl was psychotic and would jump her if she came, and partly because L.C. hated parties and she hated the drinking that went on at parties. An idea did cross her mind, however, and L.C. entertained it for a moment before settling into her seat, the desk inhabiting the center column and the back row.

L.C. watched Charlotte walk away and felt a thrill of victory as she headed toward the immature boys, a group she was certain LaRousse was a part of. “All talk and no bite.” L.C. muttered under her breath. The girl shook her head and leaned back in her chair, facing the front of the room as the students around her moved back into their seats, thankful the catfight was over.