[center MUSE modeling agency is known for their rigorous and exclusive selection process, only accepting the absolute best in their eyes. No one knows how to audition for the agency, knowing only that they recruit you. Although the agency is recognized for their secrecy, they are still considered the most illustrious company around, their name spread through out the world. While there are many rumors following MUSE, no one knows the actual secrets that MUSE holds in their hands. For anyone signed under MUSE was not just a model, but a spy.
MUSE has been working behind the scenes, secretly helping stop terroristic threats and thwarting evil-doers ever since they were founded in the early 1900's. MUSE almost exclusively hires models and performing artists, using their stardom and prowess to their advantage.
MUSE is now the greatest defense society has to offer, however, all their efforts are still unknown to the open public.
Each spy under MUSE around or under the age of 18 are required to attend the prestigious school centered in London named the Winchester Academy for the Gifted. Each spy must maintain a B+ average while attending school. While recommended, their attendance in class is not required, and all homework will be picked up by staff. The school does have dorms, however, the models/spies live off campus to better accommodate their specific needs.
The models/spies live in a gated home and community. The gated neighborhood has guards frequently roaming, however they are paid to never bother the models. The home is filled with only the best for the spies, even including a sauna and pool. The home also has many secret passages, including one connecting to an underground area where they can train to their hearts contents.
The main MUSE agency and headquarters isn't far from their home, nor their school. This place has many floors, including, but not limited too: training rooms, a hair and makeup salon, Joseph's main office, three different laboratories, photo studios, and more. Some rooms are off limits, while others have access to those in the fashion industry. Every person besides the models must carry ID's on themselves at all times, no exceptions.
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=408027 [Lateef [size20 Team Leader - Graham ]]]
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=408403 [Lateef [size20 The Fluff - Nöelle ]]]
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=405539 [Lateef [size20 The Charms - Elliot ]]]
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=408076 [Lateef [size20 The Architect - Atticus]]]
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=408021 [Lateef [size20 Current CEO and Boss of Muse - Joseph ]]]
[http://rp.eliteskills.com/vc.php?c=405235 [Lateef [size20 NPC List]]]
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Loved+by+the+King][center [pic https://i.imgur.com/LQRNt4b.png][pic https://i.imgur.com/oKkBdBX.png]
[girassol [size20 a typical summer night ; [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AkdBZEGbAsE [loved+by+the+king [size20 darling, it's time]]]]
[center [loved+by+the+king [size15 *trigger warning: verbal abuse*]]]
[center ---][center [abel [size15
[b "You are a selfish girl. You don't even know how lucky you are!"] Hissed a tired looking man. He was in his early fifties give or take. The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth suggested years of stress and nicotine. His pale eyes were tired and dull.
A petite girl with fair complexion sat at the island counter top in the center of a generic suburban home kitchen. She hunched her shoulders in hopes to shield herself from the wrath of the older man's words. Staring at the marble counter top before her, she endured. Leaning against the doorway stood a woman around the same age as the man. She was weeping into her hands.
[b "See? You made your mother cry Riven."] The man fumed.
Riven didn't acknowledge the comment. She wished so badly to escape. This angered her father even more. Reaching across the counter, he grabbed the girl roughly by the chin forcing her to look at him. Her eyes widened in fear as tears threatened give her away.
[b "Look at me when I am talking to you!"] He spat.
[b "David!"] Cried her mother.
[b "Don't start with me Karen!"]
[girassol [size20 a second chance;]] [loved+by+the+king [size20 yours truly]][pic https://i.imgur.com/oKkBdBX.png]]
[b 00/00/XXXX] | [b 14:38] | [b Second Visit with Riven Almack]
[i On my second visit with the prospect, I finally made headway. Instead of going to the house, I met her at the dance studio. It was hard to talk to her in front of her family. The situation there is pretty rough.
I surveyed her movements while she did her routine. She is graceful and agile. There is an obvious love for movement like dance and gymnastics. Her stamina is higher than most. She just goes and goes. During her break, I decided to approach.
[b [#666699 "Riven Almack? It's good to see you."]] I greeted gently not to startle her.
She stopped stretching and looked up at me. Her expression was wary as she recognized who I was.
[b [#993366 "Um my parents said not to talk to you."]] She said quietly. Her body language changed as she spoke.
I wasn't surprised. I had seen first hand the textbook emotional abuse her parents were burying her in.
[b [#666699 "Riven you have a lot of potential. I could take you away from this place if you wanted."]] I stated careful with my words.
She didn't respond. I figured as much.
[b [#666699 "You don't have to give me an answer now. Just think about my offer and give me a call."]] I sighed and handed her a business card.
Although the girl didn't move from her spot on the floor, there was something different as she stared at the small piece of paper in hand. Her expression had evolved and there was a fire in her eyes I hadn't in her before. I could feel that things were about to change.
[girassol [size20 a new beginning;]] [loved+by+the+king [size20 the present]][pic https://i.imgur.com/oKkBdBX.png]]
Riven was leery of the well-dressed man standing like a statue next to her. His eyes were covered by dark shades very stereotypical of what she thought a secret agent might look like. But she guessed maybe her fantasy of what spies looked like were all a lie because spies could look like anyone. They could look like [i her.]
As the two approached the building known as MUSE in silence, Riven's mind was reeling. She couldn't believe she had been swept away from her mundane life to become a secret agent disguised as a model. It sounded like a plot straight out of a manga.
[b "Ms Almack?"] The agent finally spoke catching Riven's attention. She hadn't realized how immersed in thought she was until she was staring at the man holding the door for her. Nodding, she skipped up the steps and entered the building.
Following the agent in stride, the pair passed through the corridor and into the reception area. Riven couldn't help but look around for the female agent who had scouted her. Giving up, Riven exhaled in defeat and sped up to catch the elevator.
When she entered, the girl was startled by an automated voice. [b "Age: 16. Height: 5'4". Weight: 117 lbs. Facial and fully body recognition complete. Hello, Riven Almack. Taking you to floor Z, now. No confirmation needed."] The elevator shook as it started its descent. Riven shifted her weight nervously as the ride felt like an eternity. She was relieved when the elevator spoke again. [b "You have arrived. Welcome."]
Riven exited the elevator and took in her surroundings. A gorgeous woman sat at a large desk. Her hair was a warm honey color and her cheeks were rosy. The only woman Riven thought to compare her to was her birth mother. Both of them shared the same firey gaze. [b [#993366
"Uh hello,"]] Riven greeted out of respect. She didn't wait for a response before retreating into the meeting room.
The room was lively to say the least. The first person Riven studied was the only other girl in the room. She sat with her feet perched on the coffee table and her aura was powerful. Riven couldn't help but want some of that confidence. She knew maybe she should be afraid of this girl but the only things she could feel was curiosity.
Next was a ginger who stood rigid like the agent who had escorted her in. Despite his tidy attire and strict mannerism, the boy had a gentle face. His blue eyes were fierce but not off-putting.
The last two people were vibrantly interacting. One was a colossal man with copper skin and intricate tattoos. He was bare-chested showing off his muscular build. Taking pictures of him was a slender boy with hair like starlight. His skin was pale making him look like a porcelain doll. Riven picked up on a few words and understood him to be French. This would be an interesting group.
Lastly, she spotted a handsome man with dark hair and a mysterious air about him. He was wearing a pressed suit and stood proud in front of the group. This had to be the Joseph she had heard of. She hadn't expected everyone here to be so attractive. She couldn't help but feel plain compared to them.
Riven stood in awkward silence for a few moments before realizing she should introduce herself. Clearing her throat, she feared her voice would fail her. [b [#993366 "H-hello."]] She barked. A warm flush crept across her cheeks. Kicking herself internally, Riven hoped maybe that training would help her be less of a mouse.
Riven's Voice: [#993366 #993366]
Agent Jennifer Nineger's voice: [#666699 #666699]
[center [size11 Noëlle hummed absently along to the music playing on his AirPods. “Do my hair toss, check my nails, baby how you feelin’?” The blonde sang lightly under his breathe while manicured nails scrolled through his Instagram feed. The world outside was bustling with people and traffic as the nondescript, black town car made its way towards their destination; MUSE headquarters. The boy had been there before, of course, but today was a very special day. Or at least, that was what he was told.]]
[center [size11 Honestly, Noëlle hardly felt his life had changed all that much from France or America. The photoshoots, contract meetings, and everything work related was all the same as it had always been. He still barely had time to attend school but that was fine, he was used to self-study and what not. The blonde still wasn’t convinced that MUSE was what they said they were, but maybe he’d change his mind. The agency had been adamant that he learn some self-defense training and combat, which he was absolutely dismal at; his gymnastics and ballet background made dodging easy but he wasn’t sure about the whole “attacking” bit. It probably didn’t help that he sent a good portion of his training sessions staring at his teammate in appreciation of his physique. Who could blame him though? Graham was [i gorgeous].]]
[center [size11 And starting tomorrow Noëlle would be living under the same roof as that glorious specimen. He’d also be living with his other team mates, only a few of which he’d had the chance to meet since he’d been so busy with work. He was so excited to met the rest of them, Graham was handsome but a little closed off and Ivy? Oh god, that girl might as well have been living under a rock for all she knew about the world. The girl didn’t even have a Facebook! NO FACEBOOK! IN 2020! It was [i crazy] to him. And obviously she didn’t have an Instagram, Pinterest, or anything! He had every intention of changing that as soon as he could kidnap her for a couple of hours and get everything sorted. No friend of his was going to live in social media isolation. He’d also met Elliot, who was just the [i sweetest] and very nice looking, but not exactly his type. But he was pretty sure he wasn’t Elliot’s type either.]]
[center [size11 [b “Monsieur Lépicier, nous sommes arrivés,”] The driver spoke from the front, a sound which he was only barely able to hear over Lizzo’s song. ]]
[center [size11 [b [#eac0ff “Oh!”]] Noëlle turned the volume down without removing the AirPods from his ears, [b [#eac0ff “Je vous remercie!”]] He replied, waiting as the driver stepped out to open the door of the car for him. His black heels clicked against the sidewalk; most men wouldn’t wear heels but there was nothing more empowering than the sound of heels clacking against tile when you walked; it just commanded people. Besides, his heels looked perfect with his outfit. The black heels matched the black trousers that clung to his skin like he was sown into the fabric and elongating his already sinfully long legs. The black bottoms elevated his white dress shirt crop top that showed off his stomach, cutting off just above his naval. He decorated the pressed collar with collar pins decorated with a gold triangle with a delicate gold chain connecting them.]]
[center [size11 Overall, he looked rather angelic with his silky platinum hair parted to one side, brushing lightly over his forehead. His eyes such a bright yet pale blue color they appeared almost lilac in the light, framed with dark lashes long enough to graze his high cheek bones when he closed his eyes. Noëlle’s features had always been exceedingly delicate, so feminine and closely resembling his mother with a narrow jaw and slim chin. His lips were colored ever so slightly with a very light coral lipstick to make him look all the more feminine. ]]
[center [size11 The blonde strutted through the lobby of the MUSE building like he was walking down the runway, but he always seemed to walk as such. He offered smiles and greetings to everyone he passed, receiving a favorable welcome from the staff and others milling about. The elevator to where he’d be meeting Joseph and his team, including the new members, was already waiting for him and opened as soon as he pressed the call button. Inside of the gleaming elevator he caught his own reflection and couldn’t help but smile, he always put such effort into his appearance, after all. ]]
[center [size11 The doors closed silently and began its descent, [b “Biometric scan complete,”] The mechanical voice chimed through the enclosed space. [b “Age; 15, Height; 172.7 cm, Weight; 51.9 kg. Bonjour, Noëlle Lépicier. Votre rencontre avec Joseph devait commencer il y a deux minutes. Veuillez vous rendre immédiatement à l'étage Z.”] The mechanic voice must have been well programed because its French accent was better than what he’d heard on many foreign speakers. The blonde smiled and returned to browsing through his phone.]]
[center [size11 The elevator descended with exceptional speed and nearly immediately the doors had opened to one of the lower most floors of the building. Noëlle pranced out of the elevator smiling brightly at Vivienne, though the woman seemed very cold she had a French edge to her that Noëlle adored. Walking into the room where the team was meeting, he began greeting them loudly, [b [#eac0ff “Mes chéris!”]] Noëlle took in the faces of everyone in the room, the familiar forms of Graham and Ivy as well as their immaculate leader Joseph who looked as tired as ever and a new face he did not know. ]]
[center [size11 [b [#eac0ff “Oh?”]] Immediately he turned his attention to this new individual and found his eyes roaming the body before him, [b [#eac0ff “Oh!”]] Noëlle quickly swiped at his screen to arrive at his camera and shamelessly angled his phone to have his picture encompass the large and very well-developed chest in front of him, not even blinking as the sound of his camera shutter clicked for everyone to hear. [b [#eac0ff “Bonjour,”]] Noëlle said finally, moving his eyes from his phone to address the tanned and tattooed Adonis before him and switching to English after his greeting. He found English greetings to be rather unbeautiful to the ear, [b [#eac0ff “You must be Mattie, my name is Noëlle. It is a [i pleasure] to meet you.”]] He couldn’t help but to flutter his eyelashes as his sight grazed the form before him.]]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/NAOHibd.jpg?1]]
[center [size9 ✿ [i “Monsieur Lépicier, nous sommes arrivés”] Mr. Lépicier, we have arrived]
[size9 ✿ [i “Je vous remercie”] The more polite and proper way to say "Thank you"]
[size9 ✿ [i “Votre rencontre avec Joseph devait commencer il y a deux minutes”] Your meeting with Joseph was set to begin two minutes ago]
[size9 ✿ [i “Veuillez vous rendre immédiatement à l'étage Z”] Please proceed to Floor Z immediately]
[size9 ✿ [i “Mes chéris”] My darlings]]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/wAd4R1t.png]]
[center [i [b Nine Years Ago]]]
[#FF0F00 "Nan-sai desu ka?"]
Mataio smiled wide despite the missing incisor. He's lost it in the scuffle the previous day, but that was alright, it had been loose anyway. He'd been trying to lose it in a coconut for over a week beforehand, he'd have to thank the prime minister!
[b "Watashi wa ha-sai desu!"] he chirped, quite proud of himself. This was the first time in all his eight years of life that he'd been on a plane, let alone in a new country, never mind drinking pineapple juice with their [i leader]. Boy, did he feel important!
Prime Minister Hosoya watched him for a moment before practically choking on his own laughter. [#FF0F00 "Your Japanese is excellent, too! Where did you learn to do all of this?"] the aging man asked, glad to match Mataio's contagious cheer and informality. Of course the question was a loaded one... They'd caught him stealing flashdrives for the American troops in Oahu, but were well above killing a child, let alone one with so much promise. Where had he gotten his sticky fingers from, though?
Though young, he broke the question down without much issue. [i [b 'He wants to know who taught me? He must want to find them. Is [i Tutu] in trouble? She won't be if I don't tell him...']] Matt thought to himself, finding it more than a little funny. People sure did trust kids to spill their guts. [b "I taught myself! I'm really good at it, aren't I, old man?"]
More laughter from the prime minister, but Mataio was drowning in his small victory. It seemed this tactic was the best option, people truly wanted to believe he was a moron. It was convenient, at least? The clink of Hosoya's wine glass against the small table in front of him brought Matt's attention to a single sheet of paper set before him, blank and lying beneath a pen. He blinked, watching Hosoya with unfiltered confusion. [b "Uh...?"]
Hosoya cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses before he clasped his hands in his lap. [#FF0F00 "We can't meet like that again, it is bad for my work and also my men. So I would like to offer you a job [i as] one of my men."]
Finally Mataio understood, and didn't fight the urge to smirk. The 'moron' pretense wouldn't work to his advantage here anymore, not with Hosoya. [b "It's 'cause of all the bomb stuff from a million years ago, you can't actually keep your guys in Oahu, can you? So you wanna have someone who lives there work for you. 'Cause only normal Japanese can live there for permanent, and you're the boss, and your soldiers are soldiers."]
[#FF0F00 "...Ha! You [i do] catch on quickly. You are correct, it would be silly to try to sneak men in just to keep an eye on them. I know I would upset someone that way. I'd be better off with a civilian source, no?"]
Mataio did not miss the wording. 'Them', he'd said. Americans? With a shrug, he turned his attention again to the paper. [b "You gave me a pen?"]
Hosoya nodded. [#FF0F00 "I will pay for your services, supposing you are willing to provide them. I will not force you, but I will not make the offer again."] The tone had changed a bit, slightly darker than before. Mataio, still very small, did not want to think about what Hosoya might do if he declined. Plus, this was a BIG opportunity! He could help to feed the village, and learn from real teachers! [b "I don't want money, I want stuff. Oh. Uh, [i please]."] he added quickly, simultaneously trying to figure out how to get the pen nib to come out. Hosoya's attendant twisted the pen for the loinclothed Hawaiian child, prompting a quiet and very grateful sigh of relief.
Prime Minister Hosoya chuckled. [#FF0F00 "You want [i stuff]."]
Matt's face was the picture of peace and kindness, the shameless runt. [b "Hai!"]
[size10 Nan-sai desu ka? - 'How old are you?' (informal)
Watashi wa ha-sai desu! - I'm eight years old!
Hai! - 'Right!]
[center [pic https://i.imgur.com/QdQR0jO.png]]
He was running out of time, so he'd opted to do his post-breakfast war chant on the way down to the specified meeting place. This was, of course, preceded by an oddly mechanical greeting.
[#FF0F00 "Age; Seventeen. Height; Six-feet-five-inches. Weight; Two-hundred and ten pounds. Hello, [i Mataio. Mahili. Kamakawiwo. Ole]. You have been scheduled to see Joseph in approximately three minutes. Bringing you to floor Z, now. No confirmation needed."]
Mataio, not wanting to be rude, waved at nothing in particular as the elevator began its descent. [b "Haha, the way you talk sure is interesting! Oh, but I don't have a lot of time- I'll just do a quick one before I get down there."] he went on, hoping it wouldn't bother the disembodied voice in the elevator vents. So began his morning [i haka], charged with a very sudden rage and traditional gusto.
[center [i [b "RINGA PAKIA! UMA TIRAHA! TURI WHATIA! HOPE WHAI AKE! WAEWAE TAKAHIA KIA KINO! KA MATE! KA MATE! KA ORA! KA ORA! TENEI TE TA NGATA PUHURU HURU! NANA NEI I TIKI MAI! WHATAWHITI TE RA! A UPANE KA UPANE! A UPANE KAUPANE WHITI TE RA! HII!!"]]]
[#FF0F00 "You have arrived. Welcome."] the voice crooned, followed by the fun, [i swishy] sounds made by automated doors. Having arrived, Mataio rose from the elevator floor and stepped, quite barefoot and smelling of various fruit, into the supposed meeting place. Familiar faces, most of them... and none of which were smiling. What was it with the pale folks and their smiling allergies, was it an illness...? Constipation maybe?
He had seen them before, if not at least in photos then he'd met one or two. Ivy and Graham, in particular, were faces he recognized. Joseph was vaguely familiar, if only in name and in vibe. [b "Hi everyone! 'Hope I'm on time. Are all of you sad, though, did someone die..? You guys should smile more!"] Genuine concern, but his frankness wasn't always a crowd favorite.
The young lady resting her feet on the table, Ivy Li, had an aura he was quite familiar with. It was the same vibe one might get while looking at a wild boar from afar, or perhaps from staring a shark in the eye. He liked her already! He bent down to address her, tattooed like a war chief, bare-chested, and probably more excitable than was necessary. Matt was already famous for being allergic to 'civilized' clothing. People were already fighting to get him in for photo shoots.
[b "Ivy, right? Do you like swimming? Because they put a really cool pond out there for us to hang out in, and it's full of big tasty fish! They're so nice here! Weird, [size11 I mean, the] [size10 clothes are bizarre-], but the people are really nice!"]
How was he to know that koi ponds were decorative?
Somewhere, losing their mind on school grounds, was Mataio's student aid, having been unable to locate him for the past 36 hours and NOT AT ALL well rested.
[google-font http://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Catamaran][left [pic https://imgur.com/Jh6Snzw.png]] [Catamaran [center Graham was taught young that structure and routine made a person. That being strict, and disciplining yourself was the only way to truly achieve anything. He never understood impulses, and how someone could easily deviate from the rules that had been laid out before them. Then he met his so called 'team'. A bunch of unruly. unpolished, disrespectful [i children] who wouldn't know what discipline was, even if it was branded to their skin. He had an odd distaste for the newest member to be introduced especially, who was just as unruly as the one Honolulu freak that was also shipped off to MUSE. At least Mat was good to look at and it was hard to get too angry at his goofy smile. Ivy, on the other hand, was a mess, always being especially defiant and rude. She had once spit on his shoes after he called her out on her stature. This was the first day they had met. Now, he had to live in the same house as the girl.
The traffic was a roaring mess come to life, the beeping of the cars causing Graham's head to ache. He groaned slightly as he looked forward, his taxi now taking the wrong turn. "Do you even know where you are going there, mate?" His thick British accent flipped off his tongue, cocking his eyebrow slightly as he waited for the man to respond.
"This is a short cut, sonny. Do I look like I'm lost?" The man said, a slight cockiness in his voice that disturbed Graham. "I've been driving around this city before you were born-"
Graham had already opened the GOOGLE MAPS application on his phone, typing in his location and giving out a long, exasperated sigh. "Stop the car please," he grumbled, throwing his backpack over his shoulder. As the car slowed to a stop, the man started to question Graham, but was quickly cut off again. "Here is the money I owe you, now please, go scam some tourist," Graham threw his money at the man and got out of the vehicle. Walking would be much faster than this twat, who thought taking the longest route possible was a great idea. Pushing his ginger locks back, Graham moved on, his feet now bounding towards MUSE.
The elevator dinged open as a flustered Graham stumbled slightly through the door, his mood soured from the run to his work. He'd need a new change of clothes for a start, but before then, he'd have to check in with Joseph for their brief. Everything else could wait, Graham was always on time. Graham waved slightly to Vivienne, whose expression changed slightly for him. It was rare to see her sincerely smile, but since Graham knew her most of his life, she gave him a gentle smirk. She was always nice to him, even if it was just because she wanted to get into Joseph's pants. Still, she helped him some days when he couldn't feed Bartholomew III.
The voice of Joseph trailed down the hall, Graham power walking toward it. His breath was short and his face was red as he walked into the room, coming into eye contact with the one person he doubted would be their first. Ivy. Graham gritted his teeth before standing before Joseph dutifully. He didn't apologize for being late, for in reality, he really wasn't. That, and a man never apologized for something that could have been easily changed. He would simply do better. Graham always had to do better.
[center [size11 Dark brown eyes flecked with gold slowly opened, dark shadows staining the skin around them as they squinted against the light. A dream. Well, more of a nightmare but nearly as scathing or scarring as some of the others Joseph was known to have. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since he was fifteen, that was when MUSE had found him; at that time, he’d been dreaming of being an Olympic swimmer. Now he didn’t have any ambitions besides his own survival. But since joining he’d not known a peaceful sleep.]]
[center [size11 He raked a large hand through black strands, messing the styling of his hair from its neat coiffure to something more relaxed and reminiscent of the man’s personality. His neck hurt from having fallen asleep sitting up at his desk. Paper work littered the space in front of him, he’d finished his work before dozing off, of course, otherwise he never would have been able to relax enough to sleep. It had only been four years since he’d taken over the position of Head of MUSE but it was easily sending him to an early grave, or at least early greying, the horror.]]
[center [size11 Joseph gave himself a moment, allowing shoulders to relax as he took in a deep breath. Today was the day the new team was to move in to the completed property. This was the only team he directly supervising now, and only because he’d been mentoring a particular member for several years. Severing ties with the child would have adverse effects on his social development and he was nearing to adulthood already, thus it was deemed appropriate for Joseph to continue until the team graduated into a separate classification. The child in question was Graham, of course. Graham had joined when he was impossibly young due to his late parents’ previous connection to the agency and as a result Joseph had become a surrogate parent to the boy. It was probably the prospect of introducing the team to their new residence that had brought back such an old memory of his old team.]]
[center [size11 An alert told him that a member of the team had entered the building and would soon be on their way to Floor Z. Joseph’s office was actually below Floor Z and had a private elevator that limited access, few had the authorization to enter that particular floor. Besides himself he knew Vivienne, Graham, Atticus, and a custodian by the name of Terrance to have access and Atticus’s access was limited to his work area; otherwise someone had to be escorted by one of the three.]]
[center [size11 Entering the elevator, he adjusted his appearance in the reflective, mirror like walls. He was wearing a simple, designer suit in grey with a white button up and a cobalt blue silk tie. Joseph ran his hands through his hair, fixing it back into a neater and tidier look than he’d worn at his desk. Satisfied with his appearance he pressed for the doors to open and stepped out. He walked towards the open seating area where the team was to gather. To his surprise Graham was not the first face he saw, normally the boy was there before anyone else standing with military precision and discipline. Instead it was Ivy Li who was the first of the children to convene.]]
[center [size11 [b [#2c3baa “Ms. Li,”]] He greeted. Ivy didn’t like him much. But after reading her file he would have been more surprised if she didn’t hold dislike for him. She was quite an interesting one, not of the normal standing of individuals MUSE sought out. But then again, wherever talent was, he supposed. It wasn’t his job to search or recruit, fortunately. [b [#2c3baa “I take you had no troubles preparing your belongings for the upcoming move?”]]]]
[center [pic https://imgur.com/afbwpEG.png]]
[center [Ibarra+Real+Nova [size15
[b [size20 ~6 YEARS AGO~]]
Laughter stretched across the playground, the sounds thunderous to Ivy. Everything was louder when she was younger. Too much noise, she'd always say. Her matted hair was swept lazily into a ponytail, and her clothes were in tatters, like always. Children surrounded her, poking at her, speaking about the way her clothes were. They laughed at her shoes, and the fact that they had duct-tape to cover the holes. They laughed at her backpack, and the fact that it wasn't even a backpack at all, but a very old briefcase. Lastly, they laughed at her hygiene, nicknaming her 'Smelly Ivy.' It wasn't creative, but then again, they were just kids.
The ringleader of the ridicule stood closest to Ivy, a long stick in hand. She whipped it at Ivy's hands, the stick making a cracking noise against Ivy's skin. Ivy didn't move, her eyes fixated on the girl in front of her. Behind the ringleader a girl spoke out, unsure of the necessity of this relentless bullying. She whispered pleas, the word 'crazy' floating in the air. Still, the leader didn't budge, swinging the stick forward again, this time splitting the wooden stick over Ivy's head. Everyone and thing was quiet after that, no one daring to speak a word. That was until Ivy screamed.
It wasn't a frightened, 'I'm hurt' type of scream. It wasn't a plea for help, or for them to stop. Instead it was a screeching, blood curdling, war cry. Ivy's eyes changed from cold to fury, the dirt on her face looking now more like war paint than anything else. She lunged forward, her hands wrapping around the ringleaders throat. She shook the girl forward and backwards, smashing her head into the sand beneath them. Ivy raised her fist, ready to dive further into this fight, but instead found herself floating away. Only she wasn't floating, but being pulled away from who they now say was the victim. And sure, maybe she was, but wasn't Ivy also?
No one thought really seemed to think so.
[b [size20 ~~NOW~~ ] ]
A wolf in sheep's clothing was a generous term for Ivy. No matter where she went, she stood out like a sore thumb. Raised to be ruthless, and to not care about the material things in life, she wasn't what most would think of when they heard the word 'model'. Still, here she was, standing in front one of the tallest buildings she had ever seen, wearing brands she couldn't even pronounce.
Many would ask what it is like to be shoved into a world of elitism but Ivy could never answer. She always had eyes on her, no matter where she went. At least now, it was mostly positive.
A man dressed in black stood beside her, silent and brooding. He was just another one of the cogs in the large machine that was MUSE. He wasn't there to protect her, but to make sure she was sticking to schedule. Ivy was new after all, and they had to make sure her intentions were clear. The man moved through the building, Ivy following behind, not making a noise. She hated small talk, and she knew the man in front of her didn't care either way. They strolled casually through the main reception area, pulling behind a restricted door.
[b "After you, Ms-" ]
Ivy rolled her eyes and moved without him, stepping now into a large elevator. As the door closed a feminine, but robotic voice chimed, greeting Ivy.
[b "Age: 17. Height: 5'9". Weight: 129.6 lbs. Facial and fully body recognition complete. Hello, Ivy Li. You have been scheduled to see Joseph in five minutes. Bringing you to floor Z, now. No confirmation needed."] The elevator started to move, going deeper and deeper and into the ground. Finally, the elevator stopped, the voice chiming again as the door opened. [b "You have arrived. Welcome." ]
Letting out a heavy sigh, Ivy walked out into the open room, eyes greeted by the stoic and somewhat off putting Vivienne. The woman was stunning, with harsh eyes that told you to not to bother, and blonde hair that seemed flawless, even when messily thrown into a bun. Ivy never had a problem with the woman, in fact, unlike many, she liked her. Mostly because they stayed away from one another. No unnecessary 'hellos', no 'how are you's, just a nod of recognition. Ivy slipped passed Vivienne and into the office where she was to meet her teammates. While everyone knew of each other, no one was particularly close except for the odd few. However, soon that would all be changing, as today was the day that they would all be moving into their new [s mansion] home.
Ivy sat at the end of the room, feet resting on the marble table. Surprisingly, and for the first time, she was the first to arrive, although she knew that Graham would be just around the corner. He was never not on time, [i the insufferable cunt. ]
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