Isabella has always been a quite girl, choosing to spend her time with her nose in a book. That's worked perfectly fine for her since the day her mom died. With it being just her and her dad, things have always been kind of tough, but they've always managed to make it by.
However her life gets turned upside down when Tristan becomes her partner in Chemistry. Where as Isabella is quiet and shy Tristan is famous and a well liked person. Isabella spends her time reading while Tristan spends his time balancing school and filming. While Isabella is barely making it by at home, money is nothing to Tristan. So what happens when these two become lab partners? Do sparks fly and draw these two together or do they grow to detest each other?
So I'm kind of going for a beauty and the beast themed rp here. A slow building romance that could be either fxm or fxf which ever would work, but I'm hoping for a character that is arrogant and with a thick back story as to what made them this way. Typical ES rules and hoping for someone that can post 700 chara's each post if possible, send me a taste of what you can type via pm please. ^.^ Not First come first serve
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“In that case, I’ll ask my father quietly about it, so yours doesn’t see the sudden request and get suspicious or worried. I don’t mind translating, if that’s what it takes.”
Whatever it took to get answers. The fact that the books were there and whatever information they had was so close, but neither of them could read it was incredibly frustrating. At least the car smelled nice. A little too sweet, but coffee was a good smell and didn’t bother his nose. Her question was a good one.
“Natasha would notice. Hold on.” He frowned slightly, thinking it through. She had to change. The books would have to wait. He had a bunch of coffee. “Okay. There’s a sort of back staircase closer to the garage. As soon as I stop the car, you run up and change as fast as you can. I’ll stall in the garage as long as they don’t come toward me, then stall with the coffee and keep them in the dining room. Leave your coffee in the garage, then if you’re too far behind me say you set your coffee down to help me not spill the others, then forgot it and ran back to get it and couldn’t remember where you set it or something. Sound believable enough?”
He glanced at her for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure it would work, it would depend on how fast she could go up and change and how well he could keep anyone from noticing how long it took Isabella to double back for her cup.
If the smell of coffee was strong enough to wake a person up, Isabella would certainly be able to wake up, because the amount of coffee that Tristan orders causes her sense of smell to run on override, practically drowning out all other senses. Isabella picks up the drink designated for her and begins sipping on it, hoping that the effects of the drink would kick in sooner rather than later. She barely catches the employee recognizing Tristan, but chooses not to say anything, unsure how Tristan is feeling right in that moment. She sips slowly on the drink, doing her best not to burn her tongue in the process.
Tristan’s question draws her more to the land of the living than her strange state of exhaustion previously allowed. She thinks for a moment, trying to think about how she would best be able to break the news on that front to her dad [#4169e1 “I think I have to talk to my dad about the additional studies before I could even think about taking that on. While I don’t think it’ll interfere with any of my ap classes, given his refusal to allow me to learn Korean previously, I don’t think a simple change of location would allow for a release on that rule. Granted if you were to start taking those lessons and wanted to translate for me, I definitely wouldn’t complain,”] Isabella says, holding her coffee steady in her hands as Tristan drives them home.
The thought runs through Isabella’s mind, [#4169e1 “How exactly are we going to sneak me in? I’m still wearing the same clothes as last night, and I doubt Natasha isn’t going to notice that.”] Isabella points out; awake enough to sit a bit straighter in the chair.
“Caffeine for you, then. You’ll probably need it.” Tristan could tell she was exhausted. He pulled up to order. Black coffee for himself and his father, one with two creams and sugars, plus a shot of hazelnut flavor for Natasha, something sweet and packed with a couple extra shots of caffeine for Isabella, and then one of their sweet, flavored seasonal drinks for Isabella’s father.
He drove up, paid for the drinks, then there was the carrier for the drinks to deal with. He couldn’t drive with it in his lap, though he considered it briefly,”Here, could you hold this?” It had four of the five drinks. The fifth was Isabella’s and he put it in a cupholder in the car. Before he could escape, the woman at the window recognized him,”Oh my god, you’re Tristan Lucas.”
He really didn’t want to deal with this right now. He forced a smile and turned to the woman,”Yep. Thanks for the coffee, have a great day.” With the drinks secured he pulled away from the coffee shop and headed home, not giving her time to really respond. The forced smile fell.
It was private enough to continue the magic conversation a little bit,”So, about the Korean. Should I start taking a Korean class? My father won’t mind, and you could join the lessons too. That might help with the journals, which seems like the best lead we have right now.”
Somehow the sound of Tristan's voice seems more and more like a lullaby as he talks, singing Isabella to sleep, but his words still some how manage to pierce her exhaustion and draw out some kind of an answer. [#4169e1 "Hopefully there is something in the journals that will help, just as soon as we can figure out how to read them. The sooner the better too because I don't think I could survive another night without sleep."] Isabella says, doing her best to stifle a yawn
Once they pull up to the coffee shop, Isabella is having a hard time keeping her eyes open, so she settles on responding with her eyes closed. [#4169e1 "I will take anything that will wake me up, but for my dad if you could get something fancy and sweet, he's a big fan of flavors, so it would be nice for him to get something he would like."] Isabella says, trying to wake herself up by stretching in her seat.
Somehow she knows that when they get back to the house, she's hardly going to get any time alone, let alone time to sleep, until the day is mostly over. She hopes that when the day does finally end she'll be able to actually get to sleep and stay in her own bed, despite the day just beginning.
Tristan was relieved that Isabella was willing to leave. They could always come back later more prepared. “Sure. And I’ll take the blame for the coffee run if they’re worried or anything.”
He did want to figure out what was going on, but he didn’t want to rush blindly into anything. Tristan put all of the stuff into the trunk,”We can leave it all in here, and come get it as soon as the coast is clear. I’ll ‘lose’ the keys so no one get into it before we do.”
It’d be easy enough to pretend he left the keys in his pocket or something. He cocked his head when he noticed the keys Isabella was taking. He hadn’t seen them before. He didn’t ask though, and instead hopped into the driver's seat once the trunk was all packed.
It was such a relief to pull out of that parking lot. The mystery would gnaw at him, but that was still better than rushing in right now. Tristan kept his focus on the road, but chanced a glance at Isabella. She looked so tired. “So, you think it was your magic doing this somehow? That’s possible, I suppose. We’re not really sure how that works, but in a way it’s good no one is kidnapping you.”
It felt a bit better to him knowing a stranger hadn’t snuck into his house without him noticing. The trick now was to figure out how to keep her magic from acting like this on its own. Tristan pulled into the drive through for a coffee place and motioned to the menu when he came to a stop,”Whatever you want. Maybe something fancy? Or do you just need a lot of caffeine to get through today?”
Isabella is honestly a bit surprised to see Tristan so worried, but it causes her to stop clearing off the counter and simply go back to stacking as many books in her arms as possible. He is right, she can always come back later and search on her own. Staying puts them in risk of getting in trouble with their parents, and her father could become filled with enough concern for her well being that he hardly lets her out of his sight. [#4169e1 "You're right, I can always come back at another time, I don't need to figure everthing out all at once. Plus it'll be easier to figure things out if I don't have my paranoid dad breathing down my neck. Let's get this stuff in the car and then we can actually run and grab coffe. We should get enough for the adults too so that our excuse makes sense."] Isabella says, heading towards the door.
Once they've gotten everything in the car, Isabella notices a key ring hanging from the entrance. The ring has more keys than Isabella could even begin to imagine where they belong, but it dangles with one key still in the lock. Isabella ignores it at first, taking a second trip to get the last of the items in the car, but she locks the building up and takes the keys, feeling like that's exactly what she's meant to do. The keys were not there when Tristan came inside.
Isabella manages to settle into the passenger seat of the car rather rapidly, her exhaustion aiding her in getting comfortable. [#4169e1 "I don't think I was kidnapped."] She says, looking over at Tristan, watching him drive [#4169e1 "I think I actually got there via some kind of magic, that while I was at the beach I was actually doing a spell of some kind. I think the same thing got me to the shop this morning."] Isabella says clearly exhausted [#4169e1 "I don't know how or why this keeps happening."] She is so exhausted that she can't even muster the energy to cry,
She seemed pretty freaked out. It was understandable, something was way off here. This place had clearly been changed somehow and really quickly. Probably with magic. Tristan looked at the books, biting back questioning her on where they came from. “Sure. We can put them in the trunk. And no, I don’t know Korean. Chinese or Japanese sure, but not Korean.”
He didn’t need to ask, since she started explaining what she did know about the books anyway. From her mother? Tristan looked down at the books he’d picked up. If this was a family thing, why hadn’t she had these before? Why hadn’t her mother given them to her, and who was giving them to her now?
“Good point.” Tristan mumbled to himself. It did seem odd, but her going back seemed like a bad idea. He just wanted to leave. “Isabella, wait, I don’t know if we should stay.”
He walked back after her and set the books down. The door was stuck, which made it seem like an even worse idea to go prying. Something had happened here, and he was pretty sure it was magic. To him that sounded like trouble, some curse waiting to come down on one or both of them. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to convince her to stop,”We really should get back before our fathers notice, and come back more prepared.”
He took a breath and looked toward the front door, then back at her. If she insisted, he wasn’t going to leave her. He sighed, looking a little uncomfortable,”I’ll stay if you want, but if I’m being honest this place is kind of freaking me out right now.”
The phonetic writing so delicately scrawled on the worn paper tugs deeply at Isabella's heart strings. She stands there as the creeping pain of memories long since tucked away find their way to the surface. Memories of her parents singing to her and teaching her Korean, the beautiful sound of her mother playing the Violin out on the balcony. It's as though the symbols on the page shift into the memories, playing them out on the pages before her.
The only thing to break Isabella's trance is the sound of Tristan's approach. [#4169e1 "I don't suppose you read Korean?"] an involuntary laugh breaks from her throat as tears spring to her eyes. [#4169e1 "I'm sorry, ignore me. I'm fine, just tired is all. Can you help me take this stuff to the car?"] Isabella wipes her eyes on her sleeve before trying to stack some of the books into her arms.
[#4169e1 "This may sound crazy, but I think these belonged to my ancestors. I recognize my mom's hand writing in a few of these but I have zero idea what any of it says. Language is a hard thing to self teach, especially because my dad basically banned speaking Korean in the house after my mom died."] She admits, glancing over at the remaining books on the counter. The creases in the binding show how frequently some of the books had been used, the faded coloration showing it's age. The ancient tombs might as well have a bow placed on top of them for how easy it was for Isabella to find them.
She stops just short of opening the door [#4169e1 "This is too easy. If I'm right and these did belong to my family, why make it so easy for me to get this information now? I've been kept in the dark my whole life and now just give me all of the information I need."] Isabella shakes her head and walks back to the counter, placing the books back down and making her way towards the [i 'employee only'] door.
She tries to force open the door, getting no more than a budge [#4169e1 "Tristan, can you help me over the counter, I want to look around some more."] Isabella says, reproaching the counter and trying to clear it off, setting everything down on the floor.
“Okay. See you soon.” With Isabella off the phone Tristan had time to think as he drove.
His father or Natasha were bound to notice that he and Isabella were gone, and that he’d taken a car. So he just needed an alternate explanation for taking the car that kept anyone from guessing Isabella had been anywhere but at home and then out with him this morning.
Coffee. After picking her up he’d pick up some coffee with her then head home. It was believable. He’d just claim to have talked her into a last second coffee run on a whim.
With his plan decided he pulled into the parking lot of the ice cream parlor. He didn’t even bother pulling properly into a space, he just stopped near the door and hopped out. He was worried she’d be in bad shape again like yesterday. Some cut or scrape. If she was, she might not tell him over the phone, right?
With those worries running through his head he rushed into the parlor and stopped dead in his tracks. This couldn’t be the same place from the other night. It would take a crew to get it looking this bad so quickly. The dust was thick, too thick to be from just a few days. This had to be [i years]. Isabella was here though, and after a moment for the shock to settle he went to her, looking her over for injury. Nothing looked or smelled too wrong, just dusty. “Hey. You alright? I’m here.”
It was taking effort to keep mostly calm at this point. Even he could tell something really weird was going on with this place, and he didn’t like it. He was worried some curse was the cause and it would get her somehow.
There is an increasing pressure paired with a pounding unlike anything Isabella has experienced before swirling in her head [#4169e1 "No I'll be fine until you get here. I'm alone so I don't think I was kidnapped, I will talk to you more about it when you get here though, see you soon"] She says, despite the terror raging through her. She hangs up and tucks the phone back into her pocket, settling for hugging her knees tightly for a while to try and calm herself down.
Her mind rakes through the events that lead to her waking up on the dingy floor of what could only be the ice cream parlor. She had spent the whole night researching the existence of magic and the different ways it could manifest, when she finally stopped and laid down the first rays of day were breaking through her curtains. She hadn't even bothered to change or climb under her blankets, because she was very cozy, as if she had been wrapped up in a blanket straight from the dryer. The next thing she knows she's waking up on the hard floor, covered in a thick layer of dust.
She realizes that she wasn't kidnapped, not last night nor the night prior, she's woken up completely alone and not bound both times, if someone were attempting to kidnap her they were doing a poor job of it. She isn't sure how she got her, whether it's a result of the recent development of magic or yet another thing she doesn't quite understand.
She pushes herself to a standing, albeit on shaky legs, and looks at the items perfectly stacked on the counter. Despite being almost as old as Isabella is, the stuffed animals are exactly as she remembers them, they even smell the same. The box between them and on top of the stack of books has strange symbols engraved on it, these symbols register as familiar to Isabella but she can't recall where she's seen them before.
She sets the box to the side and begins looking through the books. There is a total of ten leather bound books, well not exactly books, more like journals. The journals are filled with Korean script, clearly written by more than just one or two people. However one of the journals is filled with a script that makes Isabella's stomach drop at the sight of. She can't process what she's looking at, no matter how long she stands there staring at the familiar twists of the letters.
She is still standing there staring at the journal when Tristan finally arrives.
Tristan had just pulled his shirt on when his phone rang on the other side of the room. Who would call at this hour and have his personal number? He wandered over and picked it up to see it was Isabella,”Hey.”
The tone of her voice alarms him almost as much as her words. She’d sleep walked or whatever it was again. He was at the door to his room before she’d even finished speaking, and he tried to sound calm and reassuring,”Alright, I’m on my way. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
His mind was already running through his plan faster than his feet. The hall was empty, Natasha had gone downstairs. He needed in the garage. There was a window at the end of the hall. Tristan slid it open and hopped out, landing with a little bit of noise on the roof of the garage. He hurried to the edge and jumped down, then sprung forward to dart in the exterior door. He hurried to the rack with the keys and picked one. He opened the door to the basic black sedan and was on his way out. The whole thing had only taken him a minute or two tops, he’d moved fast and surprisingly quietly. He felt a dreadful sense of urgency to get to Isabella as fast as possible, before any of the adults realized anything funny was going on.
A hard and cold surface is all that Isabella feels as consciousness yanks her from what little sleep she may have gotten. Her eyes flutter open to find that she is once again not in her bed. With this revelation, her eyes fly open as she quickly tries to take in her surroundings. Sitting up, Isabella looks around the room and finds that it’s quite empty, with nothing but an oddly familiar dilapidated counter with a few strange items sitting on top of it.
She immediately reaches into her pocket, thankful that she had fallen asleep in her clothes for the first time in a very long time. She pulls out her phone and immediately calls Tristan, not knowing who else to call in this situation. As the phone rings, she slowly stands up and approaches the counter trying to get a better look at the items laid out before her.
Before her is a stack of books with odd markings, similar to the ones that she saw yesterday morning, symbols that pull at something deep inside of her that she can’t yet explain. There are at least five books in front of her, an old wicker box that is surprisingly sizable underneath the books, and two stuffed animals sitting on either side of the box, one being a mole and the other being a rabbit. Two stuffed animals that she immediately recognizes, Mrs. Ickle and Mr. Hopps, her favorite toys as a child, one of the few things she had gotten from her grandmother who lives in South Korea. The realization of where she is hits her like a ton of bricks, just in time for Tristan to answer the phone [#4169e1 “Tristan, I need you to come and get me, I’m at….the ice cream parlor I took you to the other night. I don’t know how I got here and I don’t know how to get home from here, I need you to come get me. Please hurry, I’m freaking out.”] Isabella says slinking down to the ground and holding her knees against her chest, trying to remember anything at all that might explain how she got here.
Tristan didn’t go to sleep for a while. He went to the gym and spent over an hour working out. It helped him feel better at least. He could exercise in peace, since everyone else was apparently busy with other things. He had enough frustration bottled up that it felt good to be active.
His father or Natasha were going to notice the wrecked punching bag though. It was one of those big, heavy things as big as he was, but he’d managed to punch a hole in it. He let out a yell more like a roar and punched another hole in the material. Even working out he’d have to pull his punches or someone would notice something was off.
He huffed and went to shower and soak in the water, hoping that might help. Left alone with his thoughts as the only company, Tristan couldn’t help but wonder just how much he’d ruined Isabella’s life with his ‘help’. She wasn’t shallow and selfish like girls he was used to. She didn’t like the same kinds of things. Any other girl would be ecstatic to move in here.
When he finally returned to his room, he was still too wound up and miserable to really sleep, so he sat up reading on his laptop. He’d been binging on anything werewolf, shapeshifter, or magic related since the curse was put on him. He’d found out there was an absurd amount of romance and fluff on the topic, lots of myths, and very little of substance. Most nights, especially when he couldn’t sleep, he searched for more reading material.
A bit more of that and he was ready to lie down and try to sleep because as usual, the search was fruitless and unbelievably stupid. Sleep still didn’t come easy. When it did, an unfortunately familiar dream played out in his sleep, one about a dark forest, a bright moon, and a hunt. He was running through the trees, not sure if his body was more man or beast. He could feel the blood in the air, like a path winding through the trees. The world was slowly turning red.
Tristan woke suddenly, aware of Natasha at his door even before she knocked. She hadn’t actually woken him up with a knock for a while. His senses were getting too sharp for it. He sat up before the little tap of her knuckles and her calling through the door,”Rise and shine~ Breakfast is downstairs.”
He could already smell it wafting through the house. Bacon. Eggs. Was that pancakes? What? Tristan frowned in confusion as he got up out of bed. That was weird. He [i never] got to eat stuff like that. It was usually bran or oatmeal with fruit and yogurt. Was it for Isabella? Like comfort food? “Uh, yeah, I’ll be down in a minute.”
As tempted as Isabella is to immediately get up and change into a swim suit to go and relax in the hot tub, she simply remains on her bed and says a quick good night. When Tristan is finally behind a closed door, Isabella hops off of the bed and slips into her desk chair and opens up her laptop. It takes a bit for her to figure out how to work it, but when she finally manages to get everything up and running, she begins her search.
She spends practically the remainder of the night researching information on magic, from different kinds of magic to the creatures of magic, even going as far as reading some unfortunate fanfiction around pop-culture magic. Before she knows it the soft sound of morning birds chirping is drawing her attention away from the laptop. She climbs out of the chair and simply collapses on the bed, feeling more confused than she had the night prior when she began her search. The problem is that with such a concept as magic being things of fantasy, there is no way for her to know what is real and what is not.
She looks at her hand, wondering what could have caused such a deep cut like what she had, and how she hadn’t woken up from the pain. She wonders if whoever brought her out to that spot on the beach would be able to reach her here, moreover she wonders if her mom had magic as well. Finally her mind goes blank and she’s deeply asleep.
She hit close enough to the truth that it hurt. Was that what he was doing? Desperate for connections he kept breaking off. He looked back at her out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t let her get hurt by his problems, but he couldn’t stand to just let her struggle with her troubles by herself. She was too sweet for that.
Putting it off until tomorrow sounded good to him. Tristan wasn’t sure what to say or do about it tonight. Maybe some time to figure out what to say would be best. “Sure. Yeah, knowing her she’ll have you logged in already. Go ahead and explore the house too. We’ve got a gym and two swimming pools if you want. One indoor, one outdoor, both have a hot tub. All our bedrooms have our names on them, and so does my father’s office, so just don’t go wandering in those.”
Tristan stood up and looked back at her. Laying back on the bed like that she almost looked comfortable here, which he took as a good sign,”See you tomorrow.”
He stood there for a moment, trying to think of something else to say to make her feel welcome, but coming up blank. He succeeded in realizing it probably sounded obnoxious to so nonchalantly mention having a private gym and [i two] swimming pools. Feeling a little embarrassed he turned to leave. He was too wound up to just relax and sleep. The gym and pools were on his mind now, so he figured he might as well use them.
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