Redemption: (n.) The action of saving or being saved from sin, error, or evil. Pronounced re-demp-tion.
G!P Amber
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Amber Freeman is the eighth Ghostface. She despises the title with a fiery passion. She has alw...
A/N: Amber and her life choices, she hates most of them.
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The morning sun rises, casting a soft glow across the sky as its rays filter through the blinds of the apartment. Amber stirs, her eyelids fluttering open as the warm light slips through the narrow slats. With a gentle yawn, she pushes herself into a sitting position, stretching her arms overhead, feeling the sun's gentle warmth on her skin.
Amber smiles slightly, a faint but contented expression crossing her face as she hears the satisfying crack of her bones, a small release of tension. Stretching her arms above her head, she feels a wave of relief washes over her. With a soft sigh, she moves toward the staircase that descends to the lower level of her room, her bare feet padding on the wooden steps.
Reaching the bottom, Amber glances around the cozy space, her eyes immediately drawn to her PC, where the soft glow of the screen beckons her. She walks over, her fingers lightly brushing against the cool surface of the desk before she turns her attention to her closet.
With a gentle tug, she opens the door, revealing a collection of clothes. Among them, her favorite piece stands out: a plush, soft shark onesie. Smiling to herself, she pulls it out, the fabric warm and comforting in her hands. She slips it on, the material enveloping her in its cozy embrace, making her feel both playful and secure.
She walks back to her PC and carefully lowers herself into the chair, the soft creak of the leather providing a momentary comfort. Her fingers hover briefly over the keyboard before she starts typing, the familiar click-clack of the keys filling the room. She launches Minecraft, her gaze fixed on the monitor as the game loads with a smooth, rhythmic progress bar.
As the main menu screen appears, the colorful icons and options seem almost surreal against the backdrop of her muted mood. Amber's expression shifts from a neutral calm to a wistful melancholy. She scrolls through the list of worlds saved on her hard drive, her eyes tracing over the names and thumbnails of the creations she and her friends had built together before 2022. The memories of those carefree days in elementary and middle school rush back, each world a poignant reminder of the laughter and camaraderie they once shared. The nostalgia settles in her chest, a bittersweet reminder of a simpler, more joyful time.
Amber lets out a soft sigh as she clicks on one of the worlds, specifically the one where she and Tara had spent countless hours immersed in their shared adventure. As the world begins to load, she watches with a sense of anticipation and nostalgia. Her lips curl into a faint smile when she sees the familiar terrain, noting exactly where she had left off during her last session.
The screen reveals the storage room she was meticulously building, an addition to their cozy hobbit hole nestled inside a mountain, just outside a quaint village. Amber's eyes wander over the intricate details she had been working on—rows of chests neatly organized, torches casting a warm glow on the walls.
Memories flood back of those carefree days with Tara, the excitement and occasional panic as they scrambled to fend off a creeper that had somehow breached their defenses or dealt with other unexpected challenges in their pixelated world. Those shared moments, filled with laughter and teamwork, bring a nostalgic warmth to Amber's heart.
Yet, as she surveys the unfinished project, she recalls that they never completed their grand plans for the game. A part of her wonders if she might revisit the world, perhaps to make progress on their dream base or just to relive those cherished memories. She knows, though, that Tara might never return to Minecraft, especially now that she may be exploring new friendships with Mindy, Chad, and others who have come into her life during Amber's absence. The thought brings a bittersweet smile to Amber's face as she contemplates the changes that time has wrought.
Amber wonders if Tara even knows she's alive, well, she has to be aware. There's no way Tara doesn't, Amber's sure that the media has jumped on the news alone. If the world is aware that she's alive, that is. She sighs softly before she begins to play on the world, deciding to do something random.
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thatpyschoartist posted
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liked by user, stab_queen, thequinnbaily, char_char, and others
thatpyschoartist at least it came out good
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user that's so good!!!!! ↳ user54 the fuck you mean good? That's a work of art
char_char graffiti always scratches my brain the right way
thequinnbaily I feel like my friends would love this ↳ user46 ain't you friends with that Loomis chick? ↳ thequinnbaily her last name's Carpenter asshat
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thequinnbaily followed thatpyschoartist
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Amber smiles slightly as she reads the comments on her most recent Instagram post as she packs up her cans back in her backpack. She walks out of the subway, following the stream of people as she makes her way back to the campus of Blackmore.
She has her first class in about two hours, so she has time. She quickly makes her way back to her home, dropping the bag of cans on the couch of her room before she grabs her other bag and heads out, going to her first class for the semester.
This won't be fun...
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She enters the lecture hall quietly, heading up to the top of the seats. Amber sits down at a random seat, opening Instagram on her phone. She finds multiple people have been tagged on her most recent post, so she briefly reads the names.
Whoever thequinnbaily is had tagged, a good thirty minutes after Amber's post, asianlesbo, horrorfanatic, geekyboy90, footballjock, ilikedstab8, littlecarpenter, and bigcarpenter. Amber pales as she reads the profile names, realizing exactly who some of them are. She doesn't recognize asianlesbo nor geekyboy90, but the others...she definitely recognizes those.
Mindy is horrorfanatic, Chad is footballjock, ilikedstab8 is Liv, and littlecarpenter and bigcarpenter are Tara and Sam. Amber takes a deep breath, turning off her phone as the class begins to start. She's going to need to focus so she doesn't slip up and make a fool of herself, she can't have that happen at all.
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A/N: Ah yes, I had to go to some other story that uses Instagram in the story, so I could write the Instagram part. That's going to happen a lot now, and Quinn being protective of Sam? Never thought I'd ever write that in.
