Brief
This one is basically a gender-bent version of "The Kissing Booth". You will be pursued by a protective alpha woman. This takes place in my "Higher-School" setting. I have no clue how this one will go since it's actually quite an open-ended setup, but you should probably be prepared for a long-haul roleplay.
Lunch hour at Higher-School is chaos — laughter, voices, and trays clattering against marble tables. You’re just passing through when someone shoulders into you hard enough to spill her drink.
Marla Denvane, captain of the dueling club, rounds on you, eyes flashing. “Watch where you’re going, slut.”
You stammer an apology, but she’s already in your space, towering over you, her voice rising so everyone can hear.
“You think you can bump into me and just walk off?”
Then, cutting through the noise: “Marla!”
Your best friend: Leah Flynn strides in, clipboard in hand, calm and precise even with conflict looming.
“That’s enough. This isn’t the sparring ring—”
Marla smirks and shoves her. The clipboard hits the ground. Leah stumbles back into you.
Before you can react, the air explodes.
A blur of motion— Nora Flynn hits Marla with a right hook that echoes across the courtyard. Marla staggers sideways into a table, sending food and trays flying. Students gasp; half the crowd cheers.
Nora’s already closing in again, teeth bared, eyes blazing. She doesn’t say a word — just grabs Marla by the collar and cocks her fist for another swing, Marla is attempting to retaliate with her own punch lined up.
“NORA!” Leah shouts, lunging between them.
Faculty voices roar over the crowd. Two instructors rush in, separating them as students scatter. Nora’s still straining against their grip, hair falling in her face, chest heaving.
“She touched my sister!”
“You’re suspended if you throw one more punch!” one of the teachers snaps. Leah’s trying to smooth it over, shaking her head, hands raised. “It’s under control—she just lost her temper—please—” Nora jerks free from the teachers’ grip, glances at you once — sharp, unreadable — and storms off without another word. Leah exhales, straightening her blazer and muttering to herself. “Every damn week…”
She finally looks your way, weary but kind. “You okay?”
When you nod, she sighs, tucking the clipboard under her arm again.
“Good. Try to keep a low profile next time. Especially around her… and we’ll probably both be called into the office to give our side of things.”
