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Realistic or Modern 〖𝟏𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐞 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧〗

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Beatrice D'Arco
@beadarc has set her status to:
get fired up, bitches!

@beadarc has set her outfit to:
the blue velvet uniform

@beadarc has set her location to:
the living room

@beadarc has mentioned:
the roomies

@beadarc has interacted with:
Havana, anyone in the living room

@beadarc has tagged:
Soap Soap
14th Avenue was not what Tris thought it would be at all. When she had stumbled across the poster for some communal living building on her daily commute to the university one day, Bea had simply rolled her eyes at it. Med school was expensive and, although she adored her job working at the forever elegant Blue Velvet Nightclub, the pay wasn’t wonderful. So, for the cost of sharing an entire building with a bunch of random people she didn’t know, Bea had come to the decision that she’d much prefer to rent a shitty bachelor apartment somewhere. If you squinted past the mold and the water leaks and the back alley that was definitely not a drug dealing spot…

Okay, so maybe Bea changed her mind pretty fucking fast. She couldn’t fathom living with any of the stuck up students in her program or some total stranger that probably ate his toenail clippings for breakfast as roommates in a rundown shack of an apartment that would likely give her lung cancer within the decade. Without a roommate, apartments were way too expensive on their own for the financially struggling med student. Once she found out that Havana, her lovable and sickeningly cute younger sister, was moving out, Bea signed the lease for the both of them. At least if they had creepy toenail eating roommates they could suffer through it together. Such a prime moment for familial bonding!

Of course, nothing went according to plan for the move. Bea got evicted from her old apartment due to the fact that the entire building was being demolished (something about critical levels asbestosis and a rat issue in the basement, Bea really didn’t want to know anything beyond that). The best part about it all? The time between her eviction date and the projected move-in date for 14th Avenue left her with over a month to spare.

So, Bea began to sell her soul for a nap on people’s couches. Her friends were helpful to some degree but Bea, forever the stubborn independent, always felt guilty about it. After some sweet talking with the owner of the building, she began to wrangle her way into paying a bit extra for an early move in date. Boxes in tow, Bea jumped at the chance to move in, thus marking her as the very first resident of 14th Avenue.

Living alone in the building for two weeks was both comforting and a touch eerie. The building was large, way too big for one person alone, and filled with hidden spaces where filing cabinets and equipment used to sit. The bottom level where the trucks used to be had been renovated into the living room and kitchen, both open concept and quite honestly very well decorated. The top two levels that had previously been office spaces, rest rooms, and storage units had been converted into bedrooms and bathrooms: even numbered rooms on the second floor and the odds on the third floor along with the converted-loft bedroom with a communal bathroom on each floor.

Bea had taken her chance at one of the nicest rooms on the third floor right off the spiral staircase. Two large bay windows pointed out the back of the building to the city around them, filling the room with natural light that shone over the exposed brick and freshly done dark hardwood flooring. The room had previously been a break room making it large enough for separation between her and whatever poor soul became her roommate but small enough to not feel like she was being eaten alive by the space.

After moving in, Bea went right back to everything she had been doing before. Long days were spent bouncing between the university and the hospital for her classes and placements, the nights spent studying and working at the Velvet with the occasional break in the form of bringing home an overly charming customer from the bar.

As much as she enjoyed the space, Bea welcomed her new roommates openly. Even though they were complete strangers for the most part, outside of a few friendly faces, the space felt more alive with more people living there. Bea wasn’t used to living alone. College was spent in dorm rooms and fraternity houses, her military days were spent in barracks and tents, med school was spent with roommates she hated. While the few weeks alone was a good time to unwind and get used to her new space, it had become quite lonely.

She hadn’t been able to spend much time with her new roommates with the Blue Velvet and an extra placement day at the hospital along with an approaching pharmacology exam coming up keeping her away from them almost entirely. Bea had said hi to people in passing, wishing a good morning to people before she went to bed, chatting to them online. Bea felt sort of bad for not having more time to get to know them even though she knew that she had no other choice. To make up for it all, Bea decided to plan a little welcome party to bring everyone together.

Unfortunately, even though she booked the time off, Bea found herself working yet another shift at the Velvet after her exam that Friday. The bar ran busy and stayed open late, having Bea arrive home close to 4am. So, instead of prepping for her party the next day, an incredibly exhausted Bea had passed out cold on the couch still in her uniform.

A flash of light awoke Bea early the next afternoon. Jolting awake and sitting upright, Bea raised her hand to in front of her face as she blinked the light out of her eyes. Her sleep-fogged mind attempted to figure out who was laughing at her as footsteps fled the scene.

“Dude what the actual f-”

Bea paused, forcing her hand to fall and her eyes to fully open. The second she saw the incredibly rude culprit, armed with a phone and a mischievous grin as she was booking it up the staircase, Bea was instantly awake. Hav and her damn sleeping pictures.

“Havana! You get back here right now!” Bea yelled as she hopped up off the couch and subsequently faceplanted directly onto the ground with a groan. “Ow fuck. Put your leg on, you dumbass.”

Havana had temporarily escaped while Bea tugged her prosthetic leg on all the while looking over her shoulder for any more unsuspecting photographers. Once her leg was on and she was to her feet, it didn’t take her long to hunt down her sister in her little loft. Bea booked it directly at her, tackling her little sister onto the bed.

“You little shit!” Beatrice giggled as she wrestled her sister for the phone. “You delete that picture right now! No one needs to see me all drooly and shit and the last thing you need is more blackmail material!”

With the phone clear out of reach, Bea changed her game plan. Instead of going for the phone, Beatrice instead went for her sister. Wrapping her arms around Havana’s waist, Bea hoisted her over her shoulder and began climbing down the stairs from the loft.

“It’s been what? Four months since we’ve seen each other and you greet your favourite sister with some rude picture of her sleeping after I got you the best room in the house?” Beatrice fake scolded as she kept a tight hold of her younger sister over her shoulder as they climbed down the stairs. “I don’t get a ‘hello loving sister, how are you?’ or a ‘Beatrice, my favourite sister in the world, thank you for everything you do for me, I have missed you so much!’. Nope, I get a fucking sneaky little photograph of me sleeping after I worked tireless hours. For shame, Havana, for absolute shame.”

Bea’s tone was filled with laughter as she ranted and raved, hopping slightly every once in a while to readjust her sister’s position on her shoulder. Once on the main floor, Bea’s face lit up in a wide smile as she saw a few of her roommates. Was it odd that she was carrying Havana around the house as punishment for taking photos of her? Absolutely but Bea didn’t care. It was her job as a big sister to mildly embarrass Havana and she’d be damned if she failed that job in any capacity.

“Well, good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen.” Beatrice greeted her roommates with a laugh as she reached over to lift Havana off her shoulder. Placing her down on the ground, Bea held her hand out while the other one sassily found her hip. “Phone, now. Or delete that stupid picture. If you don’t, I’m making posters of your baby photos and handing them out to every person in this building. Yeah, I’m talkin’ Mom’s potty training and bathtub pics too.”

º º code by ditto º º
 

raelyn clifford
@craescendo has set their status to:
conceal don't feel

@craescendo has set their outfit to:
cool n casual

@craescendo has set their location to:
14th avenue, room #2

@craescendo has mentioned:
amos, mitch, bea

@craescendohas interacted with:
amos

@craescendo has tagged:
ditto ditto

@craescendo has written a tl;dr:
moving on up to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyyyy

what was that one line from frozen? the first one, the line that elsa repeated over and over, one of the first motifs of the movie?

conceal don't feel

that was the one. talking about not letting anyone else see the pain you're going through, to just internalize everything. that's all rae had to do.

but she hadn't felt this awful in a very long time. she normally didn't feel like garbage like this. maybe two or three times in her life had she ever felt like wanting to stay in bed forever, never coming out.

of course the first time had to be when she and her brother found her dead parents in their house in taiwan. it's an image she'll never be able to get out of her head, their faces, eyes open and lifeless on the ground. the pool of blood surrounding their bodies, soaking up into the ground. the sound of her own scream as haichi ran to get their neighbor. it was a terrifying sight. it was the root of her night terrors, she never quite lived down the idea that the same people that killed them would come for her. even her years in the orphanage & once she was adopted, she never had a sense of peace until years after being adopted.

the other time would of course be when she busted her vocal cords. one of her favorite feelings in the world turned into one of the worst memories of her life. rae was a performer, she absolutely loved singing in front of crowds, she always got a surge of excitement when she walked into a concert hall or symphony hall or even a small, run down stage; she loved performing. it just made sense when her choir director, ms hua, talked with her about majoring in music performance. ms hua helped her get all her ducks in a row, apply for her favorite university, prepare her audition piece, everything. and you'd think rae, of all people, would know how to not strain her voice.

but yet when her big moment came, her voice cracked. an excruciating pain shot through her throat, but it was nothing compared to the panic that gripped her chest, made her forget how to breathe. her eyes were bouncing around the auditorium, looking at the shocked expressions of everyone, it killed rae. she never screwed up like this before. so of course, her only instinct was to run. she found a room, somewhere back stage, and locked herself in it. it wasn't until later that night, at the nearby hospital, that she would feel the worst pain of her life; when she was told she wouldn't be able to perform anymore, at least not in the same capacity as before. she had severely damaged her vocal cords and there was no way to reverse it. she had never felt pain like she did that night.

but hell did this come close.

raelyn clifford and mattais mcneil started dating once rae figured out she would go into music education. they were at the same college and just clicked. it was as if they were high school sweethearts, they were in love. it was a sweet, wonderful relationship. until it wasn't.

about two years into their relationship, something shifted. rae couldn't place it, but matty was acting different. but then she caught him with another girl in his dorm room, after quite a few indications that they were sleeping together. rae went up to talk to him about it, but he twisted it around on her. damn psychology majors, if they studied well enough they could manipulate any conversation to fit their need. and that's exactly what matty did.

matty convinced rae that she was being some paranoid, crazy, over protective and controlling girlfriend. he told her that she was being delusional, saying that he was allowed to have other female friends, even though he was absolutely cheating on her. rae just wanted to stay in their happy relationship, so she never said anything to him after that. although, their conversations often turned into fights, he even slapped her a few times. a few times that she never told anyone about, not even her best friend.

but matty wasn't stupid, oh no. he kept her so close by apologizing for some of his actions here and there. he would get her to apologize for whatever she thought she did wrong and then he would apologize as well. he had her under his thumb for their entire relationship, and rae was none the wiser. until amos showed her a video of matty in some club, very obviously grinding up on some girl, doing thing you shouldn't do if you're in a relationship.

the sad thing is, rae wasn't even mad. she just wanted to talk to matty about it. she was sure he was drunk, and she always excused his drunk actions. but for some reason, matty blew up on her. rae made the mistake of going in person to talk to him, and he grabbed her arm and threw her out of his apartment. he broke up with her right then and there, leaving rae crying on the sidewalk.

just a mere few hours before she and amos had to move in to their new apartment. could you call it an apartment? whatever it was, rae didn't have much time to pretend like everything was fine. she hadn't told amos anything, she hadn't told anyone anything, and she wanted to keep it that way as best she could.

she ended up back at her place, packing up and labeling the last of her boxes. if her boyfriend hadn't just bruised up her arm and broken up with her, today could've been labeled as a perfect day. rae was moving into a renovated fire station with her best friend. she was going to meet so many new people, it was something rae had been looking forward to for a while, moving. she lived just far away enough from her job at the high school that it was inconvenient for her to wake up and commute to work. 14th was closer to her job, and it would be helping that she and amos would live in the same place, since they always rode together and he always had to come out of his way to pick her up.

she taped up the final box, looking over her living room. it was a box wonderland, she was half tempted to stack them to be a some kind of castle or tower or something to help pass the time. she was actually standing up to do so when her music lowered, interrupted by a ding from her phone. rae turned to where she threw her phone on the couch, picking it up and seeing a text from amos.

new messages
inside bit

parker!!: almost there !


rae took a deep breath in. she hated keeping secrets from amos. they had been best friends for coming up on a decade of their lives. met in high school, sung in choir together, they were just always good friends. she wasn't normally good at keeping secrets anyways, but with amos? it almost never happened.

it's not like i'm never gonna tell him, but just wait until we're settled in. no point in trying to hash this out in front of our new neighbors

especially when one of those new neighbors is my ex's brother


God... this was going to be fun

~~~

needless to say, it had been an eventful day. amos and rae made their way to 14th, unloaded their boxes in their room and started making their room their own. rae had never lived with anyone other than daphne and fin, her adopted parents. once college hit, she had her own apartment, never had a roommate. so she was looking forward to living with other adults, she would get to see what she missed out on in college.

one of the downsides of rae moving was that she always had so much stuff. rae was an incredibly sentimental person, she saw value and beauty in almost everything. so she tended to have a lot of knick knacks and doo dads and thingamabobs all throughout her house. well, she had to condense all of her thingamabobs into her half of the room.

the room was surprisingly big and it was beautiful. there was a bay window that rae absolutely called dibs on, and there was so much natural light, rae almost didn't want to set up the led strip lights she and amos got together. but rae couldn't admire it for too long, she had work to do.

the most taxing thing to unpack and put together was her computer setup. she had her own desk, chair, etc, and she prided herself in her setup not being as big and bulky as most people's, but it was still pretty big. however, it fit perfectly up against the wall in the corner of her room. her pcs, monitors, camera, mic, and even the ring light all fit perfectly.

after putting together their beds, bookshelves, and unloading their clothes into the drawers and closet, rae plopped herself on her bed. she was exhausted, but proud of how their room turned out. she wasn't sure how well her and amos' aesthetic would go, but it turned out that they meshed so perfectly that even their room looked homy and put together. she would've been more excited if she hadn't just remembered how they were supposed to have some kind of party. rae figured the closest thing to it would be a mixer; except you live with everyone.

rae loved people. if she had to choose between identifying as an introvert or an extrovert, she would choose extrovert every time. she didn't like being alone very often, she liked being around people, but in chill situations. she was pretty nervous for putting on a brave face and meeting all these new people in whatever setting beatrice put together.

so there she lay, on her bed, staring up at the celling, convinced someone would have to drag her out of their room, until amos asked the question she had been trying to avoid all day.
º º code by ditto º º
 
[
sun is shinin' in the sky
there ain't a cloud in sight

L O C A T I O N : 14th

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : raelyn

T A G S : sunshineysoul sunshineysoul

Amos Parker Anderson was finally going to move out of his parents’ house— for real this time.

Sure, he’d said the last thing the past three— four?— times, but he meant it meant it this time. Yeah, this wasn’t him being like “I’ll quit my job and become a guitarist” (even though he couldn’t play guitar) when the going got tough or him threatening to move into those bougie new apartments down on 3rd because he didn’t have good impulse control (even though he was living on a school librarian’s salary), because both of those times, he didn’t really feel it deep within his soul. Like, his parents still made him dinners, his parents still paid his bills, his parents still did pretty much everything for him, so he didn’t really want to move out then; he just wanted to say that he did.

Now, though? Oh, Amos was ready to move out, and he was going to move out, and he actually had everything packed, and he’d actually called the landlord and everything there, and he’d actually gotten a U-Haul to get his stuff there, and he had actually saved the location on his GPS, and he had actually done a whole bunch of budgeting and finance stuff so that his food was in line and all of that wonderful stuff. There was no stone left unturned, and no avenue left undriven. See? Told you— he was ready to move out.

Uh, well…except now his mom was crying, and now he was going to cry.

“Mom,” he said, trying to hold her up as she clutched onto the front of his shirt, sniffling. “I-It’s alright.”

“I know, I know,” she sniffled, wiping her tears and pulling herself off of him for a moment. “It’s just…” She held her hand over her mouth, then fanned her eyes. “It’s like you’re moving out to college again, except now, you’ll be really gone…” She dropped her hands to her hips, looking up at the ceiling and breathing in deeply before looking at Amos again and holding her hands out to grab his face and kiss his cheek. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I know, I know,” he said, repeating her phrase. He smiled and wiped below his eyes as he tried not to cry. “But I’ll call every night, and I’ll come to visit as often as I can.”

“You know you can come home whenever you want to,” his mom said, smiling up at him and sniffling deeply. “I just…you’re all grown up.”

“Mom…I’m twenty-three,” he laughed softly. “I had to grow up at some point.”

“I know…gah…” She wiped her nose, shaking her head and staring at him for a moment.

“What?” he asked, frowning slightly.

She shook her head again, laughing quietly. “Nothing. I’ll just miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” he said, leaning down to give her a kiss on the cheek before jingling the keys in his hand. “I promised that I’d help Rae move in, too, and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

“Amos, hold on!”

“H—“

His mom wrapped him tightly in another hug. He stumbled back for a moment, surprised, and then he gently hugged her back.

“Be careful,” she said into his chest. “Don’t get yourself hurt, and make sure that you eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and do it on time…and don’t buy anything that’ll drain your bank account, and don’t spend too much money on junk food.” She pulled back slightly, looking up at Amos for a moment before smiling and tucking her head back into his chest with a sniffle. “I love you so, so, so much. I just want you being safe…and I’ll miss you.”

He laughed softly to himself, patting her on the back. “I’ll miss you, too, Mom.”

Gah, now he actually was gonna cry.

• - • - • - • - • - •

“Fudgeballs,” Amos muttered as he dropped his plastic succulent on the floor for the umpteenth time. “I keep dropping Abigail.”

Amos’ possessions now lined his half of the room, which already looked like a cluttered mess— though, compared to his roommate’s side, his looked just about normal.

He smiled over at Rae as she began to put up the LED strips. “I’ll take this side,” he said, coming over and taking some of the tacky putty from Rae’s hand to help mount the strip.

After a couple (more) hours of settling in and helping his best friend settle into her side, Amos felt tuckered out enough to take a nap right on the floor— which, you know, he could do that at just about any time, but he felt very strongly compelled to do it just about now.

He looked over as Raelyn dropped herself down onto her bed, smiling tiredly at her as he walked over to his own bed. “Round of applause for us!” he said, laughing quietly and moving his hands in a circle as he gave quiet golf claps. “Look at us go— all moved in on our first day here, and all ready to carpe diem…or, uh…carpe the freaking naps.” He dropped himself onto his bed, giving a soft “whoo-nelly” as his heart dropped. The bed was a bit lower than he’d expected— no biggie. “Whichever you’d rather,” he finished, looking over at her.

He studied her for a moment, his brows knitting together.

Look, Amos was a nosey sonova, he knew. It was kinda a big vice of his, and it was something that he knew that he needed to work on. But nosiness had taught him what it meant when Rae acted like she was now, and intellect had lent him to being able to tell when something was wrong with his friends.

So something was definitely was definitely wrong.

He stood, walking over to her and sitting himself on the edge of her bed. He laid his back down across her legs, keeping his weight on his butt as he stretched his legs out, and he looked over at her, smiling concernedly. “So…” He folded his hands on his chest, tapping a random beat. “...you wanna tell me what’s wrong, or are we going to spend hours going in circles while you try to convince me that it’s nothing?” he teased lightly, though concern seeped through his every word.
amos anderson
º º code by ditto º º
 
Marlowe Ciceriega
"Twenty thousand dollars, down the drain..."
@BigGuy has set their status to:
We all have confusing feelings about Mustangs

@username has set their outfit to:
Dress shirt and slacks

@username has set their location to:
14th Avenue driveway

@username has mentioned:
Tamika, The Mustang

@username has interacted with:
The Mustang, Tamika

@username has tagged:
logastellus logastellus , The Mustang
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It was sorrowful, to say the least. Losing a car is never a good experience, but having to let one go after only knowing her for such a short amount of time? Well, that was downright depressing. With a forlorn sigh, Marlowe sunk into the leather seat as the car trundled to a stop in front of the building. Eventually, the sound of the engine died out and silence overtook the interior of the car.

Gently carressing the steering wheel, Marlowe closed his eyes and let his head fall against the headrest.

"This, Tami," Marlowe began, not even looking to his passenger, "is what loss looks like. You never want to let go, but sometimes..." Marlowe solemnly inspected the car, saddening as he once again realized what he was about to lose. Heated leather seats, polished outer body, spotless windows, new tires, and gleaming hubcaps. It was beautiful.

"...You have to" Marlowe finished with a sigh, taking his hands off the wheel. In the two days he'd known this car, he'd come to love it with a passion. But, a deal was a deal, even if he was drunk at the time. Damn his honor code, why'd he have to have redeeming qualities?

Pushing the driver door open, Marlowe began to shuffle out of the car. Sparing one last glance towards the car before shutting the door, Marlowe turned away from the vehicle and let the door slam shut.

The brick firehouse stood before him, lookinbg old enough to have been built before any pesky safety laws or Osha rules could restrict it's construction. One of the windows on the side even looked bricked in, a poor attempt at making it look like a part of the exterior's walls.

He didn't care about the building, frankly, only the car. He knew Kristoffer wouldn't love her as much as he did, but it had to happen.

"Let's just get inside" Marlowe told Tami, walking around the back of the car to unload their luggage from the trunk. "Leave the keys on the hood, either Chris gets the car or some drifter does." Walking back around the car, two suitcases in hand, Marlowe trudged forwards towards the front door.

º º code by ditto º º
 

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"The glass of my intentions turn to sand"
Genesis McKnight
@TurboGen has set their status to:
First impressions are important right?

@TurboGen has set their outfit to:
Casual

@TurboGen has set their location to:
Her room

@Turbo Gen has mentioned:
Maddison, Cam, June, Bea, Hav, Mitch, Josiah, Lucky

@TurboGen has Interacted with:
N/A
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TW: implied possible death by drugs?

Today was moving in day for the last of the few residents that'd not come early. She should be nervous about that part, but honestly moving in with strangers was kind of common for her now. Last week Genesis moved out from her stranger roommates she moved in with after leaving her brothers last year, to now these new strangers. To be fair maybe that wasn't completely fair because not ALL of them were strangers. This was probably the best living decision she'd made in a while.

She had her old friend Cameron here, and June was coming. Mitch was here to which was a familiar even if not friendly face. Lucifer...well she was certain he only went by Lucky now. Not really a friend, but she knew him! Just kind of neutral...though she had a small hope that'd change. It was weird thinking she was living with someone she knew for such a long time, but still felt so distant from. Last but not least there was also Josiah now.

If anything that was what she was most nervous about. She'd never lived with someone she was talking to before. Sure they'd be in different rooms, but still it was close enough to make her a bit fidgety. She hadn't had anything close to commitment since her college boyfriend....which in hindsight she wasn't sure if that was real? It was complicated, but can you count someone who is only with you to get you high a real relationship?

Ever since College she'd made a lot of questionable decisions from who she choose to live with to the things she let herself get hooked on and consume her life till this point. She was honestly surprised she hasn't been found damn near dead in a ditch by this point. She was thankful of course, but it was a bit surprising. Being alone the past week in this room offered her that clarity. Time to think and really reaffirm her dedication to changing. She wanted to be the Genesis everyone saw her as when she was younger. She was tired of falling short of everyone's expectations especially her own. She needed to do better before she did wind up dead in a ditch, or tub...

It was nice all in all to have a moment of being alone for the first time since high school. Sure there were others in the building, but her room was hers and hers alone. However she knew herself well enough to know that it was for the best she get a roommate. Too much alone time with just her and her thoughts would ruin her, and all her progress. She had people here who cared about her, and wanted better for her which she hadn't felt since high school. Well she felt it with her brother, but it felt more like a burden with him. Her younger brother shouldn't be responsible for making sure she's ok. That's the big sisters job, and she'd failed in that.

This was the start of turning that around! She reminded herself to stay positive. Just because she failed in the past didn't mean she had to continue to fail. There was finally stable hope for her, and she desperately wanted to hold on tight to that and not let go. However as much as she knew her friends wanted what's best for her...she was starting to wonder if this was much better then the other living situations. Sure the rent was much cheaper...this was what? Day 3 in a row that a good chunk of them have decided to drink? She had nothing against her roommates drinking or drinking in general! She had zero judgments about it, but with how she is? That's a slippery slope to her enjoying the sensation a little too much.

1 year. It'd been 1 year, 2 months, and 3 days since she last relapsed and went on a slight bender. Pretty good right? And that was without having to go back to rehab to bring herself back. She hoped despite the affinity for drinking around here it'd be easier to keep her streak with live-in support. Liquor was not her poison, but she knew it could lead to her real addiction. Former addiction...her former addiction.

Work had been slow lately and an idle mind wasn't good for her. She'd taken to tinkering with some of the household items making sure they were fully functioning. For the most part she was pleasantly surprised everything was up to par. She did do a few tweaks like making the shower pressure not so weak, one of the burners on the stove needed to be replaced, and one of the cabinets had a loose screw that she tightened to straighten it out. Overall not much, but it was enough to keep her hands busy for a bit.

Her newest obsessions' was her puzzle. It was a 10,000 piece puzzle, and she used that the past two nights to occupy her time so she didn't go out drinking, or spend the time wondering about her new room letting her mind run wild about all the different possibilities that's happen with her and her new roommates. Especially the one that'd be in the room with her. She had a name and a handful of interactions on twitter. None were bad, but that didn't stop her from worrying.

Lucky thanks to her attention to detail and focus it worked! She finished the entire puzzle, just in time to go to work this morning...without any sleep. Dangerous? Maybe. She couldn't even grab a coffee or energy drink on the way since she went through that phase with it her freshman year of college where it became the ONLY thing she drank for about 4 months. Her poor kidneys and blood pressure. One thing to know about Gen (that took her too long to realize) is she get's addicted to easily to anything. Caffeine, scrapbooking, puzzles, fixing things, ADHD pills, certain book series, ect. Once she starts it's incredibly hard for her to stop, and most of the time it takes it being forcefully removed from her or completion depending on what it was.

Hence why she was waiting till tonight to drink. She didn't need yet another thing to get addicted to. Not now when she finally felt so close to being...normal. She kept reminding herself she was finally back in school, and she needed to focus. Wait no not focus, she needed to pace. Yes pace, not focus, cause focusing too much was the original problem. With that in mind she worked through the fatigue, and made her way back home.

She wasn't surprised to come home to Bea and Hav play wrestling in the living room. Mitch was also out and about for once. He was probably the only roommates she already knew that she wasn't excited to see. But beggars can't be choosers. She gave a quick hello wave and tired smile making her way to the shower. She was certain it'd help wake her up, plus she needed to get the grease off her skin from work and get ready for tonight's welcome party.

She finished up went into her room and got dressed. Something simple, but cute because first impressions were important! Sure she'd spoken to at least a few of them via twitter, but in person was a different thing altogether. Once she'd picked out her outfit she started cleaning up a bit because if she laid down for a nap that'd be a wrap for the rest of the night, and what fun is that? Hopefully Maddison or Josiah would be there soon.
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ashton




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  • home (filler tab)

































joy oladokun



breathe again








the week before ashton was scheduled to leave, he was a certified wreck. although moving wasn't something that was particularly new to him, (as he'd been bouncing around from place to place since he was eight years old), this was the first time that he'd be moving in with literal strangers, which was plenty of cause for concern in ashton's books. there were so many ways that he'd be able to embarrass himself. ways he didn't even have to think of when he'd been living with his family. he was nervous, and it showed in the most obvious of ways.

in his classes for the week, his hands often shook so much he could barely take notes, and his arm, which hadn't been bothering him all that much for an entire month (a rare occurrence), was shaking so badly he had trouble holding anything. he forgot to turn in almost half of his homework, and the quiz he'd had became a pop quiz to him and only him because he'd forgotten it even existed in the first place. he could've sworn he'd set the date for it in his calendar, and yet there he'd been, sitting like a deer in headlights once the quiz papers had been passed out. luckily, if anyone noticed, they kept it to themselves after the first day. they were probably used to his shenanigans anyway, and so it was easier for them to turn a blind eye.

work wasn't any better, and by the time he was halfway through the week, ashton had spilled no less than six drinks (two on himself, three on the floor, and one on a very, very unlucky patron). he became quite familiar with the mop and the dryer in the staff bathroom that week, and became an expert in removing coffee from his shirt with nothing but soap and water. he spent all of his free time slowly packing, trying to make sure that he wouldn't forget anything. the last thing that he wanted was to have to come back to this apartment for anything.

despite the cheap rent, ashton had no doubt in his mind that 14th avenue was one of the nicest apartments he'd be moving into. it was even nicer than the apartment he'd lived in with his parents, which wasn't saying much, but still. the people all seemed nice enough, even if his interactions with them had been rather limited thus far. he hadn't really gotten the chance to hang out with them on their nights out, as he'd always been working, completing things for his classes, or trying to get everything in order for the big move.

his roommate, robyn, seemed to be a pretty cool person, and they even had a cat! ashton had never owned a pet before, and hadn't even really been in close proximity to one, so to say he was a bit excited was an understatement. sadly, zuko was one of the only things he was genuinely excited for. honestly, he sometimes thought about crawling back to his grandparents and begging for forgiveness. perhaps he could still call them up?

he shot that idea down before he could reach for his phone.

finally, the day of his move was upon him, and where he previously he didn't think he could feel any more nervous, his body was having fun proving him wrong now. his stomach was a constant knot in the pit of his gut that refused to loosen for anything, even when he listened to his least stressful music on loop. he figured that it would just be something that he'd have to deal with, and trudged on through his day despite the fact that he felt like shit and his hands were covered in a cold sweat. still, he had several more things to do, as he wasn't moving in until that night, and the wait was killing him. at class that day, he didn't even bother taking notes, simply recording the lesson on his phone so that he could take them when his hand wasn't trying to imitate a paint mixer.

after classes he went directly to his job, where he managed to not spill a single drink that day. honestly, he was sure that some of his coworkers were on the verge of putting up a counter of days gone by without ashton spilling anything. jokes on them though, he would've brought it up to one if it had existed. he got a quick croissant and coffee from the cafe as he clocked out (because, well, employee perks), and it would serve as his dinner for three reasons. one: it was cheaper with a discount (and who didn't like discounts?), two: it was hella good, and three: he wouldn't be able to stomach anything else with his nerves anyway.

after that, it was taking the bus back to his previous place (could he call it his previous place yet if he technically hadn't moved out yet?) to finish packing up. he nibbled on the croissant and coffee on the way there, giving his hands something to do during the wait that wouldn't drive himself (and everyone around him) crazy. his apartment was full of half packed boxes, with various knickknacks and other items strewn randomly among the small room. he sighed, before putting on music and finishing the boxes. honestly, he was glad to be leaving the shitty apartment, as there was a constant leak in the bathroom that refused to be fixed, and it always smelled like pot in his kitchen because his neighbors like to smoke and the walls were thin and the ventilation sucked. there was also the fact that his oven was broken (and the landlord was in no hurry to fix it), and his internet only really worked from one specific corner of his bedroom from the hours of 1 am to 6 am.

when he finished packing, he checked, double checked, and then checked again to make sure that he had everything. everything he had fit into three boxes, and so he decided he'd just uber to the apartment instead of renting a moving truck. he had made it all the way downstairs with his belongings before he realized he forgot his phone, and so he then had to do a mad dash back up the stairs (because of course the elevator was never working) to grab his phone. he apologized to his uber driver, a kind man who introduced himself as tim, before the two began the drive to 14th avenue. tim didn't ask him any questions beyond some basic stuff about the move, and instead let the music he played fill the silence.

it was about a thirty minute drive to his new apartment, and by the time he got there, it was almost midnight. well, he was just gonna have to move in quietly. he paid tim before panicking when he thought he forgot his apartment keys, though he managed to find them in one of the boxes. after letting himself in, he quietly moving his boxes into the apartment, managing to not drop or trip over anything on his way to his room. by the time he'd moved all his boxes into his room, he was exhausted, despite the fact that it was still relatively early for him. he shoved all of his boxes into his corner of the room before curling up on his bed and falling asleep.

...

it wasn't until the next day that he realized he'd fallen asleep in his day clothes like an idiot. his clothing was wrinkled and smelled faintly like coffee (and honestly didn't everything he owned), and ashton quickly changed into something that was much more appropriate. he'd slept in much later then he'd meant to, and despite the fact that he knew he should probably get to unpacking his things, he instead went into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. the coffee machine was one of the best things about 14th avenue, as he didn't have one at his previous apartment (and he could call it that now that he'd officially moved out), and he'd had to make do with only having coffee when he went to his job.

without realizing it, he'd habitually made too much for just himself, and he sighed for a good thirty seconds.
"there's coffee if anyone wants any,"
he announced, not quite certain where everyone was, but having heard movement that indicated someone was awake. it even seemed that there were people who had just arrived and were unpacking. as far as he knew, robyn would be one of the people moving in today, though he didn't know the exact time or anything.

he wasn't too surprised that when bea and havana entered the living room, a bit of chaos ensued. it seemed that havana had taken pictures of bea or something, if bea's words were anything to go by.
"somehow, i'm not very surprised that this is the first human interaction i've seen all day,"
he muttered mostly to himself, though he was pretty sure it was audible in the open space.

"good afternoon though, coffee?"
he offered, for lack of anything better to do. at lucky's request, ashton shrugged.
"see i would but i don't think you want my shaky, clammy hands touching you."







♡coded by uxie♡
 

ATLAS REDDINGER
@redalert has set their status to:
I'm going to love living here

@redalert has set their outfit to:
shirtless with jeans

@redalert has set their location to:
the living room

@redalert has mentioned:
bea, hav

@characterusername has mentioned:
geminiy geminiy Soap Soap
Atlas ran the towel through his wet hair as he stepped out of the shower, humming the tune to "A whole new world". It had been stuck in his head on and off since Evan and Elly saw Aladdin and got hooked. Now his twin niece and nephew were stuck in a phase where they were singing it almost constantly. A fitting song considering that he had recently moved. Water dripped down his back to his jeans, and his dirty clothes were slung over his bare shoulder, concealing some of the scars that littered his torso as he left the bathroom and headed down the hallway back to room 5 where he had taken up residence since he moved in a couple of days ago. His old place was nothing like 14th Avenue. It had been more like a small cubby hole rather than a proper apartment, mostly because he was so disorganized if you asked Agnes. So when he had seen the advertisement for this place by chanced, he called them up right away. Cheap rent, in downtown Chicago, and renovated from an old firehall? There was no way he could pass it up. It was communal living unlike his old apartment but it wasn't like he even had that much space to himself there, and besides, he was used to sharing and chaotic household. Growing up with six other siblings prepared you for a lot of things. In fact, before his previous rental in that small one room flat, Atlas had never lived alone. He had grown up with all six siblings till the big split when he was 12, then spent another 5 years with the younger three and his mother before moving in with Agnes and later her husband Kevin after coming back to Chicago. That arrangement had lasted a total of 6 years until the twins came along. God he loved those kids, just thinking about them made him light up.

He tossed his dirty clothes into a waiting basket, still humming as he glanced over at a couple of shirts he'd left on top of a precarious stack of half opened boxes and knick-knacks amongst other things. Screw it, he'd get one later if he needed to, it wouldn't be too late to leave it till if someone complained. He wasn't about to willingly add to his laundry load if he didn't need to. After he'd flooded the washing machine the first time while living with Agnes, she'd never let him near it again, and once he'd moved out of her place with Kevin and the twins, his next place had been with his ex, Olivia. Agnes had set him up with her and so she'd heard all about the horror story from Agnes and never let him near it but at least there was someone there to help work the machine. It wasn't his fault the things were so damn complicated. Too many buttons, too many functions, modes, why couldn't they just make it simpler? One button, one mode, just toss all your clothes in, press the button and you were good to go. If they just built it simple like that, he would never have a problem and the washer would never break, but no. Instead it was built as if they wanted him to screw up the process every step of the way and break them so they could eat a hole into his wallet. Which was exactly what happened once he and Liv split up 2 years ago and he didn't have anyone to handle the damn machine for him anymore. He'd tried to figure it out and used it at the rental he stayed at after moving out of his shared apartment with Liv, but it broke down repeatedly and he had to pay for repairs each time it did. He'd shared that apartment with two others who were either always stoned or banging each other in the room. Not much help at all so he'd switched to handwashing his clothes to make sure he didn't go broke over a machine that seemed built to break easily. Hopefully his new housemates would be more willing to help him with that and he wouldn't be stuck handwashing his clothes again.

Atlas exited the room, running the towel through his tousled curls once more before letting it rest on his shoulders as he made his way down the stairs to the second floor. He loved the view from the balcony there, overlooking the streets and the faint cool breeze. For the hundredth time he was grateful to Agnes for offering to let him stay at her place, facilitating his move back to their hometown. In his years since returning, there were times when he wondered how he had ever managed to survive the 5 years he'd spent living outside of it in New Orleans. There was no doubt he had to thank Amara and Alethea for that. Thanks to the almost constant chaos his younger twins sisters had caused growing up with their fights, he hadn't really been spared the time to think about how much he'd missed Chicago. It always felt so good to take a shower after a run and soak in the city's afternoon sun and air like this.

He was humming the tune to a whole new world a third time and amusing himself with faint recollections of some of his sisters' wildest moments when he heard a yell followed by a crash and the sound of giggling footsteps scrambling up the stairs, soon followed by an angrier set, putting a stop to his humming. He faintly recognised the yelling voice as belonging to Beatrice D'Arco, the older half of the D'Arco sisters who were two of his new housemates. He hadn't gotten to see much of her yet cause she'd been out of the house so much the past few days but had managed a hi in passing while she was on her way out the day he had moved in. It would be nice to actually get to spend time with her and other roommates now that the weekend was here and more people would be arriving soon, and he was definitely looking forward to that pole dance challenge they had arranged over twitter. He chuckled as he stepped back inside in time to see Bea disappearing down the stairs with her younger sister Havana slung over her shoulder like she was carrying a sack of potatoes. God he loved this place already. It was going to be so much fun living in 14th Avenue.

Atlas followed them down to the living room, one hand running part of the towel over the slightly damp curls on the side of his head, as he shook it slightly, a bright smile on his face. He arrived in the living room in time to hear Bea greet the other roommates present with a laugh and finally let Havana touch the ground. Her sassy declaration to the younger D'Arco had him laughing from where he stood behind them as his hand let the towel fall back onto his shoulder. He assumed Havana must have gotten herself an unflattering shot of her older sister who was in an eye-catching, figure hugging, velvet blue dress. It was only the back view but damn she looked good in it. He was going to have it tough in the pole dancing if his competition looked that good on the day, but it also gave him an extra boost of motivation. Now he really wanted to see her on that calendar but first things first. "Havana's baby pictures?" He chimed in grinning. "Now that's something I won't object to seeing. Afternoon ladies."
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I always hide behind a cigarette
I'm fighting fires burning in my head

M O O D : eck, peasants

L O C A T I O N : living room

M E N T I O N S : N/A

I N T E R A C T I O N S : N/A

T A G S : N/A

Let's make one thing crystal clear -- Leo absolutely had not wanted to now be living in an old fucking firehouse. What was the point of even renovating the shitty thing? Was it because it was quirky or something? Like "omg I live in a firehouse, #quirky" type of quirky. Quirky wasn't the word he was looking for, but an entire week of living on his own with little sleep, shitty food, and having all of these new roommates that he quite frankly could care less about had done a number on Leo's cognitive thinking abilities.

For the most part, he'd managed to actually stay to himself and had met... no roommates -- save for a couple that he'd seen fleeting past on his way out the door or back to his bedroom, but Leo had never stuck around to chat. Sure, the guy was social enough, but he tended to be more social in settings where he was ahh... surrounded by individuals of similar class.

Everyone in this building were peasants.

He wanted to go home but, apparently, having your twenty-seven-year-old son still living at home and wasting away his days like he was still in high school was "an embarrassment to the family name" and Leo needed to get out on his own because "what will you do when I'm not around to provide for you?" and blah, blah. Leo had stopped paying attention to his father's ramblings at that point and instead had spaced out and focused on something behind his father's head. Until his father had asked if he was listening (to which Leo said yeah even though he wasn't) and said that he was kicking Leo out of the house.

The firehouse had been the first place that Leo could afford on the new salary that he was being given from the stupid bank job -- which he actually had to show up to now regularly for scheduled shifts, ugh -- and so, Leo had reluctantly moved in.

He fucking hated it.

His roommate was a disaster. There were people everywhere, constantly chatting and talking and ugh.

And now, now, there was supposed to be some "welcoming party," but Leo wasn't planning on attending that. He didn't see the point in it -- they were all roommates. That didn't mean they had to be friends or that they really had to talk. After all, he'd lived with his dad for all twenty seven years of his life and him and his father had hardly ever spoken to one another. Hell, there had been weeks that Leo had gone living his life in the mansion without seeing his dad around.

He didn't understand why these fuckers insisted on it being any different.

So, he was reluctantly attending the party. To be honest, Leo wasn't even entirely sure why he was going. Curiosity, maybe? Yeah, mostly that -- curiosity killed the cat, they said, but this time it was killing the Leo.

When Leo walked into the living room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his shoulders ever so slightly slouched, the... party... if it could really be called that (it felt more like a family get together -- family reunion-esque, blech) seemed to be in full swing. And absolutely fucking boring. That one chick -- Bow or whatever, the one he argued with constantly -- was there with uhh... the other one. The littler one. They were laughing and talking and seemed to be in generally good spirits, and it made his head pound.

Leo didn't bother glancing at him or giving them an ounce of his attention. Instead, he stuck to the wall, walking along. His gaze would snap to person after person as they entered or as he neared them, but no one really caught his attention. So far, everyone seemed... inadequate and useless, more or less. As in, Leo couldn't piece together a reason to talk to any of them.

At some point, he came to a stop. His shoulders still slouched, hands still in his pockets, he leaned back against the wall. Well.

He'd just hangout for a few, and then head back to his room. Long enough to convince his fellow roommates that he was not, in fact, a serial killer or some kind of axe murderer. Then, he would fade into the background again, head back to his room, and go about co-habitating with these people against his absolute will.
Leo Kavanagh
º º code by ditto º º
 

coollogo_com-20498906.png
spider-man-homecoming-characters-sally-isabella-amara-1~2.jpgMood: Excited, Nervous, and pretty tired
Outfit: X1
Location: Livingroom
Interaction: Leo ( Winona Winona )
Mentioned: Everyone...kind of

It was amazing just how much a 13-hour drive could exhaust you, especially when you're moving. The excitement, the dread, the small amount of guilt about leaving your home town. It was a wildly new experience, and one you don't really think about until you're actually moving. Madison certainly didn't, even after her brother Alex warned her. She was packing up her life, leaving everything she knew behind...it really was wild. The trip from Charleston to Chicago took two days simply because both her and her brother were uncomfortable driving on little sleep. Since her car couldn't fit all of her furniture, her brother decided he would drive the U-Haul van for her, while Madison drove behind him in her little white Honda Civic. After about 8 hours on the road, they pulled off at a little motel in Kentucky to get some rest. It was the first time in years that her and Alex had done anything without their parents hovering. It was actually really nice, spending the last few hours before she got settled in Chicago with her brother. They ordered pizza and watched a bunch of shitty movies like they did when they were kids. Madison was going to miss him. A lot. But she had already made up her mind about this.

In the morning, they enjoyed some McDonald's before getting back on the road. They left pretty early, wanting to get to her new home with plenty of time to get her stuff in her room and maybe get some sightseeing in before Alex had to get to the airport. Since the U-Haul van had most of her stuff in it, it was being left in Chicago (and being dropped off at a different lot once Madison was moved in.) The universe seemed to not want that to happen. They, unfortunately, got caught in rush hour traffic, three ambulances had to go by, gas stops, and then their exits kept getting blocked. Which only added to an already exhausting afternoon. By the time they got to Madison's new home, it was too close to Alex's departure time for him to help her move in.

Standing in front of the old firehouse, the siblings shared a glance before their attention focused on the building once again. "Are you sure this is the right place for you biggin?" Alex asked, rubbing his bubbly beard, brows furrowed tentatively. He had always been the nervous sort, at least when it came to Madison. And, it was fair. She hasn't had the easiest go of it, and the idea of her living with a bunch of complete strangers only worsened his fear.

"I'll be fine bubba, grandma says it'll be good for me and she hasn't been wrong about anything yet," The shorter woman smiled, bobbing her head just a bit. Alex sighed through his nose, looking down at her. Madison was wearing a nice outfit, was freshly showered, and wearing a small bit of make-up. She had even gone through the effort of making a strawberry cake roll and chocolate chip cookies. The effort she was putting into a good first impression gave him hope, because who could turn down baked goods? Still, he was her older brother. He worried.

"I know but...a communal? Don't ya think it's kinda weird?" Alex asked, watching as she sat down the cake plate and tupperware container full of cookies.

"Of course! The rent is cheaper than anything else I could find in the area, it's not too far from school, and there's plenty of other people for me to socialize with. I'll make at least one new friend," She assured him, patting her pockets to make sure she has her wallet and keys.

"You know I can reschedule my flight and help you get settled. Maybe meet some of your roommates?" He suggested, hoping Madison would take him up on the offer, but she shook her head.

"No no, I know our parents want you back as soon as possible, and I'm sure there's someone who won't find helping me get everything inside and upstairs. After that, I can put everything together on my own." Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Madison stuck her finger up and shook her head. "No buts! I'm an adult, I can handle this, I promise. Besides, I know you miss Toby."

"The old mutt is with grandad, I'm sure another day-"

"Alex, please. I want to do this on my own. And, you look like a criminal, they'll think you're there to rob everyone."

"That's rude. I'm offended. How could my own sister accuses ME, of being a criminal?" Alex spoke, holding his hand over his heart in mock offense before a smile broke over his future. Madison returned it, the two of them sharing a small laugh. A silence fell over them next, the sounds of the city filling the air instead. "You nervous?"

"A little," Madison replied, her arms loosely crossing over her chest as she let out a sigh. "But I'm ready. And you should probably get going, it's almost time for your flight." She didn't want him to leave just het, but...but it was time. Normally Madison would hide behind him for as long as she could, however, this was something she needed to do on her own. Alex just smiled a bit, reaching over to pat her head.

"Alright, alright. I already ordered an Uber. Call if you need anything, don't forget to co laundry, try not to commit arson or sacrifice someone, you know what you girls do on the full moon."

"That's dancing around a fire out in the middle of woods, arson and sacrifice are for slumber parties."

"Ah, of course, my mistake." Alex chuckled a bit. Madison turned, giving him a warm hug. It would be a while before she saw him again, she knew that. The thought made her sad, but at the same time, she was still excited. Madison had never done anything like this before, not with someone else or on her own...hopefully TV hasn't lied to her. "Love you, biggin."

"Love you too, bubba," Madison spoke as they broke the hug. She once again turned, grabbing the cake plate and cookies just as Alex's Uber pulled up nearby. "I'll call you tomorrow and tell you how it is, okay?" Alex nodded, giving her head one more pat before he headed off and climbed into his Uber. Madison stood there, watching as the car drove off and for the first time it really hit her. She was alone. In a brand new, big city, Madison was all by herself. She had a million and one things to do to get her life set up here, and that nervous bundle in the pit of her stomach only seemed to grow. Nevertheless, Madison made her way to the door.

Finding the common area was easy, since she already had her keys. Actually heading inside was another issue. Madison could hear her new roommates talking, but had for the moment, paused just out of sight to take a few moments to collect herself. Three deep breaths is all it took to collect herself and finally head into the main room. The first thing she noticed and noticed right away...this seemed tk be a gathering place for 9s and 10s. And here she was, lucky to be a 4. Immediately that nervous energy spread just like it would in school, causing her to look down at the baked goods in her hands. What was originally supposed to be a nice gesture was now looking like a cliche.

Maybe she should call Alex...no. No, she couldn't let herself be intimidated. Taking yet another deep breath, Madison took a moment to look around since she hadn't been noticed yet. Still nervous, she started making her way through the room, doing her best to avoid conversation immediately as she tried to figure out who exactly to start with...she found the kitchen first. Which was actually a good thing, walking in she gave a slight smile tk the boy already standing in the room nearby, before she sat the plate and container down. Uncovering them both, she pulled out a card from the cookie container and put it down between the two. It was an index card folded in half, a few grease and chocolate spots staining it. But that wasn't the focus, the focus was the neat somewhat loopy handwriting saying "Please Enjoy!" That way, everyone knew they could grab a cookie or slice of cake.

But now, she was once again lost. What to do, what to do? Maybe she could go find her room? But everyone seemed to be out here so that would probably come off as rude. She could also try talking to someone. That seemed like a good plan. She took a glance around. Most of them seemed to all be caught up in their own conversations so instead, she took a few minutes to look around. Whoever restored this place did a great job, it looked really nice. Nicer than any place she had ever stayed before, so she had high hopes for when she finally found her bedroom. Silently, Madison started to make her way into the living room area, still looking around. Seriously, this was gonna be a good place to live, she could already tell. Unintentionally, however, she had ended up near a guy who didn't seem that happy to be there. But maybe he was just having a bad day?

"Oh hello," Madison smiled, giving him a tiny wave. "I'm Madison Matthews, I'm moving in today." This was a good start, even if it didn't go well, she still had high hopes for this place.
 
“Smiling is one of our
greatest defense mechanisms.”

M O O D : Roommates! Woo.

L O C A T I O N : living room

M E N T I O N S : N/A

I N T E R A C T I O N S : Bea, Atlas, Mitch

T A G S : Xed Xed geminiy geminiy ditto ditto

A deep breath in.

Hold.

And out.

Havana breathed out and in, smelling the fresh air that was one Chicago... and... y'know, home. There she stood, outside of the airport with a grin that was practically plastered onto her face. The plane ride wasn't the... greatest and maybe, just maybe there might've been the tiniest of panic attacks.

Small spaces and Hav weren't the greatest friends, but hey, she was freaking great. The trip to Spain had been everything she dreamed for, her parents had decided to give her a birthday present a month early... plus an added lecture of her being old enough to go on her own... financially. Havana was going to be twenty-two years old.

Yup.

But that was practically a month or so away. Why worry, right?

And no, it wasn't about the trip. It was the fact that she hasn't had a real job in...

well, ever.

It wasn't typically her fault neither, she just... never chose to get one. And... she was co-dependent. Look, she was never forced to grow up by her parents... her ex now, that was a different story. He pushed Havana to be the things she wasn't, he probably should've taken into the account their age difference at the time. While Havana enjoyed most of her freshman and sophomore year, the rest were placed with stress upon stress. A wildchild and zero way to express being who she wanted to, when the person you loved disagreed with every choice you made at the time.

Now? Havana's been on her own-- as in, out of her parents house and her boyfriend's apartment for... what? Two years?

She was just getting started.

Free to make any and every decision she wanted, and she wasn't exactly too excited to start depending on herself financially.

Again, a month away.

Why worry?

Finally, her Uber pulled up and she was quick to hop into the car... after struggling with a few suitcases. She was incredibly excited to see Bea... and everyone else too. She didn't really know them all that well, but the only thing that could come out of living with complete strangers was fun. It wasn't like anything bad was going to happen.

What's that saying? No risk no...

Oh, who knows.

Her brain is still so fuzzy from taking in every inch of information that she could get from Spain. The architecture, the history, oh... the people. There was so many people Hav met and if she was dating? Oh, she probably would've brought back at the very least three men. Maybe a girl too, actually. What? She wasn't promiscuous... she just wanted to have a good time, that didn't particularly mean she was going to sleep with everyone she hypothetically brought back to Chicago.

But god, the slight accent that hung onto every word that they--

Wow.

It was a dream.

A real dream. Not to mention the photos she'd gotten out of it. Havana wasn't a real photographer by far, it was just a hobby she picked up when she was a kid. Christmas presents, birthdays and Valentines passed and many, upon many cameras later, her favorite was a polaroid vintage camera that was hung around her neck by a rainbow strap. It was the most simple and easily transportable. She didn't like the super expensive, bulky camera with the filters. Havana liked photos at their most natural before she had tweaked them herself-- that's not to say polaroids didn't have their own style of things or that she didn't have an super expensive and bulky camera with the unnecessary filters.

She had her own way of going about things.

Her own style of you will.

And in true Havana style, when she arrived at the firehouse, she was as silent as a cat stalking the incredibly cautious and scared mouse. But here, well here she wasn't stalking a mouse. Havana's prey was one Beatrice D'Arco. She slid the keycard into the reader that she'd taken out of the mailbox-- direct instructions from her older sister and she could only imagine the talking to she'd gave to everyone else to not take the 'damn card' out because it wasn't theirs to touch.

... despite it being a communal mailbox.

A jolt of excitement flew through her as soon as she stepped through the building.

This place was amazing.

Much better than her old one, not to mention there was zero way Havana would end up alone at the house at this rate. She hated being alone, psh.

A quick glance around and her gaze landed on her prey.

Jackpot.

Her tongue poked out of the side of her mouth, dropping her bags and taking the polaroid off of her neck, carefully setting it down while she snuck up to the couch with complete focus not to make a sudden sound.

Flash.

A picture appeared onto her phone not long afterwards of a very, very asleep Bea.

Havana couldn't help but let the laugh escape, a laugh that she was trying to hard not to release that only had gotten louder at Bea's string of curses and Havana thought it best to flee from the crime scene, heading up the many flights of stairs until she ended up in...

her room?

Woah.

Bea seriously wasn't kidding when she said she got her the best room.

Alright so it was a little small... but so was Hav! This was perfect, no annoyingly loud roommates to wake her up before noon and she could stay up as late as she wanted without bothering someone else.

"Bea! I gotta say I--"

Footsteps behind her had momentarily distracted her and before she knew it, Havana was tackled onto the bed.

"Ow! Hahahah, get off of me!" Havana moved the phone in multiple positions, "I need-- no!" successfully faking Beatrice out every time she reached for it and winded up hiding the phone under her back with the world's tightest grasp anyone have to offer.

"I need all the blackmail material."

The Rock who? He had nothing on Havana's muscles.

Havana was like... a steel fortress, she was... like... Alcatraz. Ain't nobody was getting this phone, especially not-- "Hey!" She yelled as Bea lifted her up and onto her shoulders, Havana could probably be heard around the whole place how loud her shrieks were.

"Put me down! Beatrice! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Her screams of anger was canceled out by a never ending stream of giggles as she was carried downstairs and unfortunately, in front of... Atlas. Yeah, the really cute guy who she kept flirting with in their group chat. It wasn't like it was anything serious though, Havana hasn't dated in a little while anyway, and she wasn't about to throw all that away for some guy she hardly knew. Hav was crazy, but not that crazy.

Her laughter was quick to end and she grabbed the phone out of her back pocket, quickly adding the photo to a secret folder before handing it to Bea.

"Okay! Okay, fine."

... first impressions meant everything.

Now, she just looked stupid. Oh well, as long as those baby pictures didn't get out, that's all that matters.

"I missed you, Beans... but, but-- I have to introduce myself to Mr. Red himself."

Havana closed the distance between her and Atlas with the slightest bounce and hop towards him, holding out a hand with a charming smile-- a charming smile that was incredibly just for show, because anyone would be able to see the blush on her cheeks from Bea's successful embarrassment plan.

"Your favorite roommate is now here. A pleasure. Fair warning though, I was a pretty ugly baby."

Was it though?

Hav probably wasn't the favorite nor was she going to be. But hey, fake it till you make it, right? Upon shaking hands with Atlas, Havana released her hand and wiped it against her jeans hoping and praying her hand wasn't incredibly too sweaty. "I'm off to unpack. Don't open my messages." She pointed a finger and warned her nosy sister, passing by her and pulling her into the tightest bear hug imaginable.

Havana made her way down the stairs, taking in the place a little more clearly now with a grin.

The light in here was amazing. And the people? Psh, it was practically Spain in Chicago. Just... less renovated, maybe some secret mice that Bea refuses to admit they exist. Same thing though. The girl placed the camera onto it's original spot on her neck, messing with the straps for a few seconds and grabbing the two-- probably overpacked suitcases and struggled to get them up the stairs, momentarily getting startled by the man she was probably in the way of.

Whoops.

She hadn't seen him before in the group chat?

Did they miss each other?

Huh.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" She asked, setting the suitcases down for a moment and waited for him to respond-- although, not before reaching for the camera across her neck and snapping a picture of the handsome stranger in front of her. "I'm Havana. Late addition." The picture rolled out of the bottom of the camera and Hav turned it around, drying it with the stuffy air around them, tilting her head sideways and getting a good look at the photo.

"Huh, look at that. You're photogenic." A wide, amused smile played on her lips towards the stranger who no doubt-- had lived here.

Aw, man. She wasn't going to last a day in this damn place.
Havana D'arco
º º code by ditto º º
 
[
is it heaven up there? is it heaven up there?
is it heaven up there? 'cuz it's hell down here...

L O C A T I O N : 14th --> a random coffee shoppe --> 14th

M E N T I O N S : bea (not by name)

I N T E R A C T I O N S : havana

T A G S : Soap Soap

T L ; D R : the drear of day-to-day life, as relayed by mitchell mcneil.

There are times when I wish so badly that I could return home. There are times when my soul longs for it, yells for it, rips at my skin for it. There are times when the world gets to be too much and I cast myself down on the floor, writhing and crying out for home, home, home.

But I can’t go home, and can never go home, and can never so much as have a home ever, ever again.

You can’t have a home without a heart. You can’t have a heart without a home.

And I can’t have either without her.


• + • + • + •

Mitchell McNeil had found a new place to run to, and its rent was cheaper than any of the other weak attempts at escape that he’d attempted in the past three years.

He’d moved out of his last Hell and into his newest four days ago, and, in those four days, he’d done little more within his room than unpack his bedsheets and sleep and little more without his room than go for runs, smoke, and work, which was all that he had done in his last Hell to begin with. It seemed like this place wouldn’t too be much of an adjustment after all, and that meant that his boxes could remain unpacked and collecting dust, just as they had done for the past two years and through the past eight or nine places.

If he was frank, he'd lost all interest in keeping count of his living situations, and the number that this place was didn't really matter, though it was probably somewhere in the tens. Hell, even the fact that he was here in this place didn't matter too much. To him, it was just another place to live out the next couple of months until he decided that this place was becoming too familiar or that the low rent wasn't worth the nuisance of others' presences, though it would probably be the former. He had a roommate with whom he’d exchanged little more than a few sentences and whose name he could only place if he heard it, and he’d had the pleasure to avoid run-ins with his other housemates as well, so it was hardly any different from living by himself. He hadn't checked the list of those living with him, and he had only glanced at the group chat that he'd been added to once, and he hadn't looked closely, because he could have cared less about those living around him. He would be left alone, and he would leave them alone, and that was all that there was to it.

His schedule for the week was much different than normal, so it was quite possible that that was the reason why he hadn’t seen any of the others, though he wasn't complaining about this fact; he’d taken off a few hours to move in four days ago, and, as a fire lieutenant, he knew that the time lost would leave him with more papers on his desk to work on, so he’d been playing catch-up on his work for the week since, which meant a lot of overtime and a lot of him being around the new place at the oddest of hours. There weren’t nearly as many emergencies that he had to go out on this week, which was a small blessing, but that also meant that he’d been trudging through paperwork all week.

Even granting that fact, Mitch hadn’t been looking forward to the weekend. In fact, he considered going in for another shift. There was still work to be done, and work gave him a way to pass the painstaking hours of the days where he had nothing to do except sit, smoke, and stare mindlessly into a television that flashed dull images and colors onto his face until his eyes ached and he closed his eyes to fade into the fuzzy darkness that had become his closest friend, if friend was the word that one could use to describe a painkiller that helped to give one just enough numb to last one more overcast day in the city that could care less whether one was dead, alive, or somewhere in-between. There wasn’t much enjoyment to be had in anything to begin with, so he saw no difference in-between working his ass off or spending all day holed up in his house, aside from the fact that he got paid when he chose to do the former.

All of that said, Mitchell felt as if he owed it to the people of his new living space to show his face at whatever this welcome party was; he didn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea that he was in extroverted in even the least, and he didn’t enjoy meeting new people outside of his work environment, but he supposed that it was better to meet them now than a month down the line and get that out of the way. He supposed that that was all there was to it; he was biting the proverbial bullet. He would stick around for the day, meet his new housemates, and perhaps pretend as if he were enjoying himself in some capacity for as long as it took for the party to disband.

This didn't stop him from doing his normal weekend routine, however. This morning, he'd awakened at four, as he always did. He’d showered and pulled on a grey running outfit and eaten a quick breakfast of an oats-and-honey granola bar. He'd then headed outside and spent the next ten minutes doing stretches that he'd memorized long ago, and then he'd stepped off with one foot and took off in a jog. His lungs gave harsh protests at his exercise, and he coughed often, occasionally having to stop and hold his thighs, but he’d grown used to it enough to that enough just to take a drink of water and continue to run, ignoring the smog and the pain in his chest and sides. He ran through the puddles, eyes focused straight ahead as he ran the route that he was already becoming accustomed to and as his feet fell into the same gait as it did gray day after gray day after gray day.

He’d done enough turns in this new route to come to a stop at the same bench that he always stopped at, and he’d dropped onto it. For a moment, he watched the street, his shoulders heaving as he tried to get ahold of his breaths and slow them down. Then, from his pocket, he withdrew a fresh pack of cigarettes, opening it and breathing in the scent that gave him a small, rare rush of relief from the agony of surviving from one second to the next.

As he lit up his cigarette, he felt himself moving into the background as strange face after strange face walked by at their varying paces, a few giving him glances as if they were trying to assess whether they knew him or not. Thousands of others were going about their lives, were having...adventures in the big city, with their bright eyes and bushy tails, with big smiles on their faces, with hope in their eyes, and they didn't care to look at a dead-eyed, cold-hearted man who was worn and used and damn near dead at twenty-eight. No one spoke to him, and even those who glanced at him didn't care of his presence for longer than a couple of instants.

When he was younger, he used to go up to the people on benches during his runs, smiling at them and chattering with them, introducing himself and forming random memories with people he knew he'd probably never see again, people who would probably have rather not spoken to him in the first place, people whose faces he forgot the second that he stepped away, and he didn't care about the pointlessness of it all. He didn't care that he was wasting others' times, and he didn't care that he was wasting his own.

Would it have amounted to much, him knowing that those years would be the wasted ones? Would he have cared to change the course of his life had he known where he would end up now?

Looking back, it didn't matter, and he would rather forget it. There was a reason why Mitch didn't think about the past, didn't think about who he used to be.

The reason? He didn't even want to think about the reason right now.

When he thought about the reason, he couldn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, or for the rest of the week, and it would just end up in another spiral that was rather short for a spiral, a spiral that ended up with him slurring his words against the lips of a nameless, faceless woman who he'd delete the number of the next morning.

He had forced himself off of the bench after smoking a couple cigarettes down and staring at the motion blurs before him for long enough, and he lit another cigarette to occupy his lungs as he made way to the coffee shoppe with the cyan canopy. When he arrived at the door, he extinguished the butt in the ashtray, as he did Saturday after dreary Saturday.

He greeted the barista who seemed to know him by name but whose name he could never quite remember, and he wordlessly took a seat on the red cushioned stool at the bar facing the window. He folded his arms in his lap, peering through the clean glass at the dark-skied world of 5:01 am. In the small world of reflections on the glass' surface, pink neon OPEN sign, hanging a few inches from the window, stared back at him in reverse, casting a gentle pink glow against his rough, stoic face.

The barista soon brought out his small, decaffeinated black coffee, placing it on the side of his table, and he gave a small nod, withdrawing his wallet from his pocket without looking to hand her a five dollar bill, as he always did. "Keep the change," he said, glancing at her and raising his brow slightly. She muttered her thanks, and he turned his attention back at the window, his eyes studying the shadows cast by fast-moving figures beneath the artificial brightness of the street lamps outside.

The world moved at a pace that he could neither keep up with nor slow down enough to allow to keep up with him, and so he preferred to be separate from it. It was better that way; it was better to be a background character, to be one with strange motivations, to be one with no connections to anyone around him or anyone far away from him, to be no different than a stranger, even to a close friend.

At least, it was better for him; it was all that he deserved after what he'd done, after...everything.

He picked up the warm cup, holding it in his hand as he listened to the blowing of the coffee makers behind the counter. He focused on that sound and nothing else, letting the images before his eyes be visual ambience. He brought the drink to his lips, taking a slow drink of it, unflinching as it scorched his tongue and burned down on its way down his throat. He lowered it as he ran his thumb along the paper wrapper.

In here, surrounded by coffee machines and ever-changing faces, Mitchell McNeil could allow himself to be no one in a world of everyone.

He slowly drained the cup of drudging familiarity until the sky above grew to be blue and told him that it was time to depart.

It was time to move from one dreary place to another.

Before he departed from the shoppe, he ordered a croissant for his lunch, and he began to eat it as he moved toward the door.

He cast his empty cardboard cup into the garbage on his way out, the familiar chime of the doorbell giving him a soft goodbye as he exited the building.

He gave a soft sigh into the morning air.

He hated this city. He hated everything about it.

Yet he somehow couldn't leave.

Mitchell began walking, looking at nothing in particular and thinking about nothing in particular as he completed his "meal", smoked another cigarette, and made his way back to 14th Avenue, the unfamiliar sight that seemed so familiar already.

The place that was just as draggingly gray as the rest of the world.

When he stepped inside the door, he caught the tail end of what seemed to be a greeting of some sort, and his eyes scanned the busy room as he shut the door.

He seemed to be late to the party; there was so much going on.

Perhaps it wasn't meant to be after all.

He focused on no faces, and he kept his head down, walking to the kitchen and setting his water bottle on the table as he let the noise and motion into nothing around him.

He might have told himself that, today, he was going to attend this party, but spending mindless hours slowly unpacking, as much as he did not want to unpack the boxes whose tape hadn't been touched in years, seemed like the far better option.

It wasn't as if he was really needed here in the first place, much less wanted.

He avoided speaking to anyone, heading toward his room, but he stopped short when he spotted an unfamiliar girl struggling with her luggage.

He turned toward her, approaching her and stopping a few steps back from her bags with the intention of asking if she needed a hand, seeing as she seemed to be having a hard time.

"Sorry, am I in your way?" she asked, setting the suitcases down.

"No, I..."

Snap.

He blinked, trailing off as his eyes went to the image printing out of the camera and then back up to the young woman's face.

"I'm Havana," she said. "Late addition." She took the photo from the bottom of the camera, drying it and tilting her head to get a good look. "Huh, look at that." A smile played at her lips. "You're photogenic."

"I, uh..." He blinked, trailing off as he searched for his words. "I'm Mitchell. McNeil." He chose to ignore the compliment; he wasn't really sure how to respond. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Havana," he said, though his cold voice didn't make him sound exactly pleased.

His eyes caught on the photo again, and his eyes quickly darted away from it.

He hated seeing photos of himself.

He looked down at her bags, going back to what he'd come to offer her in the first place. He wasn't much of one for idle chatter. "Do you need any help with your luggage?" the tall man asked. "Helping out" was something for him to do, even if for a moment, so he might as well do it.

Mitchell wasn't a man of many words; that was all that he was going to say.
mitchell mcneil
º º code by ditto º º
 
status
❝I'ma howl❞

outfit
black housecoat

location
the living room

song
bara dårar rusar in

mentions
Beatrice, Atlas

tags
geminiy geminiy
Xed Xed
KRISTOFFER

"Thank you, you've been a wonderful audience! @krille on Instagram, get wasted, I'm single, hit me up, bring a friend, I don't care, goodnight Stockholm!"
Those were the last words of Kristoffer's final stand-up show before leaving Sweden. Soon his journey on the other side of the pond would begin, his journey to become a successful stand-up comedian in the States.

Chris wanted to bring as little as possible with him to Chicago, he knew he would not be able to keep track of all the bags and what not. But in all honesty, it was probably because he wanted to start over once he arrived. He really wanted to prove to himself that he didn't need his parents watching over him, a fresh start was exactly what Chris needed. Even though he was eager to start his 'new life' he would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous or even scared. His entire life had been spent within arm's reach from his family, that life inside a safety-net was all he knew.

As the pilot announced the arrival the self-doubt, the anxiety and the second thoughts kicked in.
"What are you doing? You're nowhere near prepared for what you've just gotten yourself into. You didn't even book the flight or the van on your own." Echoed throughout his mind as he with empty eyes gazed over the skyline.
Only moments later he could finally take a deep breath of American air and just accept the fact that there was no turning back.

Headphones on the lyrics of Bara Dårar Rusar In, (Only Fools Rush In), calmed his anxious mind. A song about taking risks and daring to go far beyond your comfort zone. It was his go-to song when all he needed was a kick in the ass.
A much more calm and collected Kristoffer headed for Chicago in a cheap rented van.

Chris was in the top ten to arrive at the 14th Avenue, he hadn't really thought much about the people he would be living with, that sort of things usually figures it self out he thought. Living inside of a renovated firehouse with a bunch of strangers sure would be a change-up for him, a much needed change. Even though he'd grown up in fancy apartments and lived a pretty glamorous lifestyle thanks to his parents, this just felt more right to him. Being a comedian and tattoo-artist, the more underground and loose lifestyle suited him like a hand in a glove. Had he finally found a place he genuinely could call home?
The following days had mostly been spent on Twitter where he in less than two days managed to form a wolfpack with another fellow resident, Atlas Reddinger. It did not take long before Chris realized a bromance for life had been formed.

Due to the different timezones his circadian rhythm was a mess. So on the day when everyone else would arrive he was woken up by what could only be described as, a weird blend of footsteps and angry giggling.
"What the fuck was that?"
He mumbled to himself mid-yawn.
His instincts told him the others must have arrived. A quick shift from tired to excited gave him the strength to at least crawl out of bed. Once he managed to get his balance straight he grabbed a much needed cigarette and a lighter, put on his black housecoat, didn't even bother to close it up as he walked out of his room to the staircase overlooking the living room. With a cigarette poking out of his mouth, his hands clenched around the railing he let out a mighty howl to ensure his presence. Smiling like a buffoon he wandered down the staircase closing his cozy housecoat.
"May I say good morning and offer one of these as a peace-offer for my howl?" He mumbled with the unlit cigarette still in his mouth, reaching a pack of smokes to Tris and Red.
coded by reveriee
 
Last edited:
It's a beautiful day!!!
Tamika Shepherd
the future is exciting

‘Blue goes to blue, red goes to red, pink to pink and yellow to yellow and done! Onto the n-fuck who pushed the emergency meeting button???’ Tamika huffed typing away at her phone as she was riding passenger in the Mustang currently being driven by her boss Marlowe. She was partially listening to the conversation initiated by the man but in honesty she was more invested in her mobile game. Honestly, she didn’t feel pity for her boss, she’s told him many of times to quit doing reckless acts while intoxicated and in return she would get a drunken ‘I’m cutting your pay in half’ threat each time. This recent game of what her boss did while drunk was different. She didn’t think he would give away and yes what is being said is correct, Marlowe gave his most valued vehicle even if it was in his possession for less than a week to his friend. When Tamika listened to the story told to her by her boss all composure left her body as laughter was replaced.
Eyes shifting back and forth, the screen her main focus, Tamika would respond with a simple ‘mmhmm’ each time her response was requested. The last question asked to her slipped in one ear and out the other but was replaced with a loud unexpected response. “FUCK YOU ITS NOT MY FAULT YOURE AN IDIOT!!” Huffing, she locked her phone tossing it onto the dashboard of the car in a fit of rage and crossed her arms over her chest. Brows furrowed, her brain acting like a 2005 Dell Desktop finally registered the question asked then the response she had given, and her reaction went from upset to dumbfounded. “Uhhh...one that outburst wasn’t towards you Mar and two...I wasn’t paying attention to what you just said.” She took a quick glance out the windshield window seeing they were close to their destination. “Anyway!! I’m super excited that we moved into a remodeled firehall!!” She suddenly changed the subject and tone of her voice to sound less aggressive. “When you showed me the flyer I could have sworn you were mad dumb or something, but looking at the website and getting more info, this was legit!” She leaned down rummaging through her backpack pulling out the flyer, excitement flowing through her body. “You know...working for you can be a pain in the ass sometimes but I’m really excited to be one of your roommates and also terrified!!” Tamika smiled shoved the piece of paper back in her bag before turning her head to look back at Marlowe once more. Sighing, she placed her hand on his shoulder after he had parked the vehicle in front of their new home. “Let this be a lesson to you then Mar. Don’t make stupid deals while drunk. Cause now you’re out of a brand new Mustang.” Watching as he released his grip from the wheel, she unbuckled her seatbelt, getting out the passenger side, giggling as the sun kissed her face. Turning around, she grabbed her backpack slinging it over her shoulder then reached for her cellphone on the dashboard. Slipping the device into her back pocket she looked up to see Marlowe already walking to the entrance of the apartment with his luggage in tow. “Oh don’t worry about me Mar! It’s not like I have my luggage and a fourteen pound cat in the backseat or anything!!!!” She fumbled turning back around to figure out how she would carry her items. Thank the lord up above she does boxing and MMA training cause she was definitely going to struggle with carrying her cat. Grabbing her two large duffle bags and her large suitcase which housed her shoes, she placed the bags on top of the suitcase using one hand for that and the other hand for carrying her cat in his carrier. Her other more furniture items were already shipped and delivered to the apartment in advance. The expression of confusion was placed on her face when she heard Marlowe say to place the car keys on the hood of the car. “I’m not placing the keys on the hood of the car Marlowe that’s stupid.” She shook her head as she walked towards the entrance of her new home.
| mood: excited | outfit: outfit | location: 14th Ave Apartment | mentions: mentions | interactions: Marlowe | tags: Togy Togy |
º º code by ditto º º
 
Last edited:
· mood

lets hope it goes well.
· location

14th ave, quiet kitchen corner.
· outfit

dressy casual.
· mentions

bea, hav, ashton, lucky.
won't let go by black match
The morning had greeted Ellara as it always did; sleep idled brain dragging her tired limbs from bed the moment the vintage clock resting atop her wooden nightstand read 4:30am, socked feet shuffling downstairs into the kitchen and melting into the corner chair seemingly only ever occupied by the black-haired woman, warm cup of freshly brewed tea nestled into cold hands. She would usually sit alone in the open kitchen, dark eyes watching the morning sun through the large window, the constant early cold morning air her only company for atleast half an hour. The sounds of waking roommates echoing above acted as Ella's inner alarm clock, dragging her back up to her shared room to dress for work as quietly as she could manage, which seemed a constant for Ellara within the shared apartment, moving through with hope to disturb the least amount of people as possible. She was usually out the door by the time the livingspace grew full with barely awoken adults.

The morning shift at the Espresso Express was filled with a warm mumur and familiar faces of the early risers, in for their daily caffeine intake on the way to work. Though the quiet mornings could quickly grow to become busy and filled with chatter, Ellara found comfort in the constant of her job. She could watch from behind the churning coffee machine as the morning went on, the faces of new & old customers slowly etched into memory as she would briefly wonder what their individual lives encompassed. People watching was weirdly almost grounding, the fact that each person lead a life much different than your own, that their mornings could start the same but lead them in various different ways. Oh god. Ella really had to stop getting so philosophical this early.

By the time the lunch shift rolled around she would be headed back to 14th avenue, offering a quick greeting to anyone still home for the day, and back up to room 10 to shower & change. With usually no time for an "appropriate" lunch, as she'd heard from a few of the roommates, Ella could settle for an apple at best on her way through the kitchen to the front doors. The rest of her day went by within the walls of her small office at the local highschool, even on a damn Saturday. At least, only for this week. Ellara was still new to the school and had cleared time on her weekend to sift through student files and notes from varrying overly concerned teachers, some of whom deciding to break the quiet of her small space and inviting themselves in to discuss certain students and concerns of failing grades. The very reason Ella had never accepted a job with a school was because of teachers such as these; far too worried about the importance of a passing grade than the emotional wellbeing of an overworked and stressed out teenager. The best the quickly aggravated woman could do was offer a tense and much too sweet smile, eyes nearly rolling their way out of her head the moment the adults left the room.

Ellara was luckily able to packup and leave the school earlier than her usual days, she'd given them enough of her time seeing as it was supposed to be her day off anyways - afterall she really didn't owe them anything. Perhaps they would come to regret being so hasty in hiring the 27-year-old. Well, that wasn't her problem.

The news of the welcome party had given her something to look forward to as she headed back to the apartment. Despite the fact she had already been living in the renovated firehall a few days now, Ella had felt that outside of sporadic conversations via twitter, the group she now shared a home with were still partly-strangers to her. She'd been lying if she said she wasn't a little bit excited to change that. In her young-adult life thus far Ellara had lived in many small apartments, and yet had never found herself sharing that space with anyone other than someone to share a bed with for a night. Yes, the dark haired woman could come off as cold and quiet and perhaps a little closed off, but it didn't mean she didn't want to make friends, to ease the loneliness that had kept her company many years of her short life.

She was currently nestled in the same corner chair in the kitchen, having gotten in from work a few minutes prior, she still sat in her work clothes with a folder laid on the small table in front of her containing the same files she'd gone over today. Her small hands were cupping her usual mug of warm tea, plump lips caught between her teeth as she frowned over the written words, mind lost in ideas of stress relievers and time management, one free hand raising to gently rub beside her temple to ease the oncoming headache. Eventually she allowed her thoughts to ease, her own anxiety calming beneath itchy skin, and drew her attention up from the journal in which she'd been scribbling, taking note of the people gathering in the living room around her. Her chocolate brown irises caught Bea first, an amused grin rising to her soft features at the laughter in the older brunette's tone.

Of all the roommates, Ella had been sharing the wonderfully crowded space of 14th Ave with Beatrice the longest, almost an entire week earlier than the date printed on the flyer she had come across on a night desparate for change. Along with the notice of Bea the familiar grumble of Lucky's voice sounded muffled from the couch, drawing an almost endeared shake of her head at the antics of her new dorm-buddy, despite how little Ellara actually tried to put herself in the middle of the group, Lucky had made it entirely too hard not to grow attached during their short time spent together in room 10. Eventually her attention returned to the kitchen, only now seeming to jolt in the realisation of Ashton's presence on the opposite side, damn, Ella really has to stop zoning out so much. She'd been surprised when she first saw the younger boy hauling his bags up the stairs, recognising him from an earlier shift at the cafe, and not too long after that the two had realised they were co-workers, Ellara remembering the barista for the rather clumsy hands he'd become known for in the short time she worked there.

"Ahh and the usual chaos begins".

ellara mossa.
code by low fidelity.


The morning had greeted Ellara as it always did; sleep idled brain dragging her tired limbs from bed the moment the vintage clock resting atop her wooden nightstand read 4:30am, socked feet shuffling downstairs into the kitchen and melting into the corner chair seemingly only ever occupied by the black-haired woman, warm cup of freshly brewed tea nestled into cold hands. She would usually sit alone in the open kitchen, dark eyes watching the morning sun through the large window, the constant early cold morning air her only company for atleast half an hour. The sounds of waking roommates echoing above acted as Ella's inner alarm clock, dragging her back up to her shared room to dress for work as quietly as she could manage, which seemed a constant for Ellara within the shared apartment, moving through with hope to disturb the least amount of people as possible. She was usually out the door by the time the livingspace grew full with barely awoken adults.

The morning shift at the Espresso Express was filled with a warm mumur and familiar faces of the early risers, in for their daily caffeine intake on the way to work. Though the quiet mornings could quickly grow to become busy and filled with chatter, Ellara found comfort in the constant of her job. She could watch from behind the churning coffee machine as the morning went on, the faces of new & old customers slowly etched into memory as she would briefly wonder what their individual lives encompassed. People watching was weirdly almost grounding, the fact that each person lead a life much different than your own, that their mornings could start the same but lead them in various different ways. Oh god. Ella really had to stop getting so philosophical this early.

By the time the lunch shift rolled around she would be headed back to 14th avenue, offering a quick greeting to anyone still home for the day, and back up to room 10 to shower & change. With usually no time for an "appropriate" lunch, as she'd heard from a few of the roommates, Ella could settle for an apple at best on her way through the kitchen to the front doors. The rest of her day went by within the walls of her small office at the local highschool, even on a damn Saturday. At least, only for this week. Ellara was still new to the school and had cleared time on her weekend to sift through student files and notes from varrying overly concerned teachers, some of whom deciding to break the quiet of her small space and inviting themselves in to discuss certain students and concerns of failing grades. The very reason Ella had never accepted a job with a school was because of teachers such as these; far too worried about the importance of a passing grade than the emotional wellbeing of an overworked and stressed out teenager. The best the quickly aggravated woman could do was offer a tense and much too sweet smile, eyes nearly rolling their way out of her head the moment the adults left the room.

Ellara was luckily able to packup and leave the school earlier than her usual days, she'd given them enough of her time seeing as it was supposed to be her day off anyways - afterall she really didn't owe them anything. Perhaps they would come to regret being so hasty in hiring the 27-year-old. Well, that wasn't her problem.

The news of the welcome party had given her something to look forward to as she headed back to the apartment. Despite the fact she had already been living in the renovated firehall a few days now, Ella had felt that outside of sporadic conversations via twitter, the group she now shared a home with were still partly-strangers to her. She'd been lying if she said she wasn't a little bit excited to change that. In her young-adult life thus far Ellara had lived in many small apartments, and yet had never found herself sharing that space with anyone other than someone to share a bed with for a night. Yes, the dark haired woman could come off as cold and quiet and perhaps a little closed off, but it didn't mean she didn't want to make friends, to ease the loneliness that had kept her company many years of her short life.

She was currently nestled in the same corner chair in the kitchen, having gotten in from work a few minutes prior, she still sat in her work clothes with a folder laid on the small table in front of her containing the same files she'd gone over today. Her small hands were cupping her usual mug of warm tea, plump lips caught between her teeth as she frowned over the written words, mind lost in ideas of stress relievers and time management, one free hand raising to gently rub beside her temple to ease the oncoming headache. Eventually she allowed her thoughts to ease, her own anxiety calming beneath itchy skin, and drew her attention up from the journal in which she'd been scribbling, taking note of the people gathering in the living room around her. Her chocolate brown irises caught Bea first, an amused grin rising to her soft features at the laughter in the older brunette's tone.

Of all the roommates, Ella had been sharing the wonderfully crowded space of 14th Ave with Beatrice the longest, almost an entire week earlier than the date printed on the flyer she had come across on a night desparate for change. Along with the notice of Bea the familiar grumble of Lucky's voice sounded muffled from the couch, drawing an almost endeared shake of her head at the antics of her new dorm-buddy, despite how little Ellara actually tried to put herself in the middle of the group, Lucky had made it entirely too hard not to grow attached during their short time spent together in room 10. Eventually her attention returned to the kitchen, only now seeming to jolt in the realisation of Ashton's presence on the opposite side, damn, Ella really has to stop zoning out so much. She'd been surprised when she first saw the younger boy hauling his bags up the stairs, recognising him from an earlier shift at the cafe, and not too long after that the two had realised they were co-workers, Ellara remembering the barista for the rather clumsy hands he'd become known for in the short time she worked there.

"Ahh and the usual chaos begins".
 

raelyn clifford
@craescendo has set their status to:
conceal don't feel

@craescendo has set their outfit to:
cool n casual

@craescendo has set their location to:
14th avenue, room #2

@craescendo has mentioned:
people

@craescendohas interacted with:
amos

@craescendo has tagged:
ditto ditto

@craescendo has written a tl;dr:
moving on up to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyyyy

there it was

honestly, rae should've known better. she should've known that her best friend wouldn't just let her mood go unnoticed. she should've known that he was going to ask her about that sooner or later.

but rae was dumb

rae hoped for the chance he wouldn't say anything.

she had to tell him, obviously. she could never say no or lie to amos. and it's not that she wanted to keep secrets from him, she just knew how he felt about her boyfriend.

ex boyfriend

amos had told her time and time again that matty was bad for her, he was always telling her that she should leave him because he hated to see her like she was. and he hadn't ever seen her bruised up from him.

crap my arm

without thinking, her hand covered the bruise pattern on her left bicep, her head turned to look at amos as he lay across her legs. she hoped he didn't notice, but how well did that go for her last time?

"matty dumped me earlier today," she tried to keep a neutral tone, she was embarrassed. she had talked about marrying this guy, she had fought with amos over this guy, she even talked to amos about being the godfather to her and matty's kids when the time came. and now? he just up and left her. rae was so sure she was going to spend the rest of her life with matty and he just... left her....

"go on," she turned away from amos, staring at her plants and figurines on her shelves. "tell me how you told me so and how stupid i was for staying with him in the first place"

how could she have been so stupid? she let this happen. her best friend had told her, multiple times, that matty was no good for her. yet she couldn't stand the idea of being alone, of not being loved by someone. she hated being alone, and yea she knew she always had daphne and fin and amos, and of course she would always have her students at school, but it wasn't the same.

was she that unloveable?

rae continued to not look at amos. at first it was out of shame, but now it was because she felt one or two stray tears slip out of her eyes.

nope, we're not doing this today.

she immediately sat up, and in a swift movement she moved amos' legs off and stood up. she started pacing their room as she wiped her tears away. she couldn't do this. she may have been naive, but matty left her. she didn't have a choice in the matter, but she had a choice now.

it's what she always taught her kids. whenever a student got in trouble but the faculty didn't think they were in enough trouble to go to the school counselor, they were sent her way. no, rae wasn't a psychiatrist or counselor or anything fancy, but she did have her minor in psychology, and she always seemed to be one of the only teachers that every kid respected in one way or another.

it was surprising how many students got sent to her due to an outburst of emotions. whether it be them yelling at someone who upset them or running out of class or even getting physical with another student, they would all say the same thing:

"they made me do it."

to which rae would always respond with the same spiel: no one ever makes anyone do anything. one of the only real powers we have as individuals is the power of choice. rae would tell her students that they always had a choice, to let that person have control of their actions and have control of putting them in a bad mood, or they could deal with it and move on. process it as best as they can and maybe not have such an outburst.

rae knew she had the same choice.

she could either give her abusive and manipulative ex power over her emotions, and let him put her in an awful mood for who knows how long.

or

she could get over it and enjoy moving day with her best friend. she could enjoy putting their room together and getting acquainted with their new roommates and say "screw you" to matty.

she was trying to opt for the later, but her emotions were getting the better of her at that point in time. she could only hope that amos wouldn't rub it in her face too much.
º º code by ditto º º
 
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Marlowe Ciceriega
@BigGuy has set their status to:
How do you update your status?

@username has set their outfit to:
Dress shirt and slacks

@username has set their location to:
14th Avenue

@username has mentioned:
Tamika, Ellara, Atlas, Beatrice, Havana, Kristoffer

@username has interacted with:
Tamika, Ellara

@username has tagged:
logastellus logastellus , LooneyLani LooneyLani
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Tami disregarding everything he said? Check. Laptop? Check. Dress shirts, slacks, shoes, etc. etc.? Check. He had the basic essentials on hand, his other things would arrive tomorrow. It had been hell moving out in such short notice, but it was worth it if it meant dodging that whole rat infestation thing going on in his old place. Marlowe...he had a thing about rats, okay?

Shaking his mind of the thoughts, Marlowe tossed Tami the car keys. Marlowe watched as the keys sailed past Tami's hands, landing on the asphalt with a jingle. Anything else happening would have been an oddity. He was half tempted to say "Nice catch", but he'd already used that line yesterday. He had to stay original if he wanted to maintain the illusion of being funny.

Straightening his collar, Marlowe pushed his way into the first floor of the firehouse. Kitchen, living room, dining area. Surprisingly spacious and well furnished for how low the rent was, might he add. Upon his first step into the building, barely contained pockets of chaos immediately formed in front of him. Havana was clinging to Beatrice's shoulder, scrabbling to grab onto something for whatever reason. A greeting to the conjugation of roommates followed-one he barely heard because of his own confusion-when someone, for some god forsaken reason, howled. Whipping his head around to look towards the source of the sound, Marlowe saw Kristoffer smiling like an idiot, looking unreasonably proud of himself.

"Why would you-" Marlowe began, when suddenly, BOOM, a guy naked from the waist up waltzed into the room. Cocking his head to the side, Marlowe mouthed WTF as he watched Atlas, who obviously had just gotten out of the shower, strut through the room in nothing but Jeans. The fact he was looking at the man's soapy pecks was making him uncomfortable enough, but the fact that he had noticed the man's soapy pecks in the first was what really drove in the discomfort.

Right. Bad start. He felt like his neck should've snapped from the amount of G-force he just went because of all of that whiplash. If Marlowe were the optimistic type, the kind to give things the benefit of the doubt, he'd think that this was just a bad first impression. But he was not one of those kinds of people, so he was convinced to move out as soon as possible.

Maybe he could call up his realtor. They could get him a nice house in the suburbs in a week, right? Sure, he'd probably move into a neighborhood where he was likely to get stabbed, but that was likely to happen everywhere in Chicago. It was just a risk you had to be prepared to take when living in Chicago.

Sidestepping...whatever that was, Marlowe pat Tami on the back as he moved towards the kitchen. "Good luck!" Marlowe mock cheered, abandoning her without a second thought.

Sliding into the kitchen, Marlowe immediately rummaged the drawers for coffee grounds. Coffee was always good in situations like this. Coffee didn't howl. Coffee didn't make you sexually uncomfortable. Coffee was nice. Coffee was his friend.

Performing the sacred, hourly ritual of making the life giving liquid known as coffee, Marlowe tapped his fingers idly against the counter as he watched the scenes before him with cool disinterest. He pointedly ignored Atlas' shirtless form.

Catching a woman out of the corner of his eyes, Marlowe flicked his gaze to Ellara sitting in the corner of the kitchenette. Eyes flicking back to his roommates a few feet away, specifically Atlas, Marlowe held his hands up in a faux surrender.

"I'm not associated with them, honest" Marlowe said, cradling the coffee machine against his side.
º º code by ditto º º
 
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[
sun is shinin' in the sky
there ain't a cloud in sight

L O C A T I O N : 14th

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : raelyn

T A G S : sunshineysoul sunshineysoul

Amos’ eyes flickered to Rae’s arm as soon as she began to move it, and his eyes widened for a moment, a million split-second thoughts rushing through his head as he tried to interpret what he’d just seen.

As soon as he realized what they were, his brows knit together, anger pooling in his chest.

He was going to kill a bastard who did that to her. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

And he already had a good idea of who it was.

“Matty dumped me earlier today.” Rae’s voice had a forced tone of ambiguity, which Amos knew could only mean one thing: Raelyn was hurting, and not just because of what could only be bruises on her arm. “Go on,” she said, looking away from him and looking to her knick-knacks. “Tell me how you told me so and how stupid I was for staying with him in the first place.”

“Rae…,” he began, but she pulled her legs from beneath him and stood.

Amos raised himself up to sit on the bed, watching her. “Rae, hey…” He stood as well, following Rae’s motions.

Looking at her, he felt a pang of her own pain in his chest.

No matter how much of a prick he was, Matthias had been Rae’s boyfriend for…four years. Through college, through all of the bee-ess of moving around from place to place, through everything. That was a solid chunk of her life, all poured into a dude who’d bruised her and, from what he saw in her posture and felt in her words, had emotionally bruised her much worse.

He’d seen the photos— hell, he’d shown the photos and the proof to Rae that Matty was bad news. He didn’t blame her for not believing him; love was blind, and love blinded.

But that could wait.

As much as Amos hated Matty, he could wait.

Right now, his best friend was the concern because, right now, his best friend was hurting.

He couldn’t even imagine her pain. He couldn’t even imagine half of the stuff that she was thinking or feeling or—

Instinctively and protectively, his arms slowly wrapped around her, cautiously at first so that she could pull away if she didn’t want it and then more tightly.

Rae…I’m so sorry.” He rubbed her back. “I’m so, so sorry.”

He considered asking several dumb questions, but he knew that they wouldn’t help.

He hurt you?

What did he say?

Where is the bastard?


Instead, he just held her, muttering his condolences with “I’m so sorry”s.
amos anderson
º º code by ditto º º
 
“Smiling is one of our
greatest defense mechanisms.”

M O O D : Totally not a serial killer, haha.

L O C A T I O N : loft

M E N T I O N S : N/A

I N T E R A C T I O N S : Mitch

T A G S : ditto ditto

This guy seemed... Fun.

Havana figured it wouldn't be too long before she got him to open up-- at least in the sense where he'd say more than eleven words.

"Last names too? Wow, we're really gettin' somewhere aren't we? Well, Mitchell McNeil, I'm a D'Arco. Don't worry though. I'm nothing like my sister." She wasn't even sure if he'd even met Bea yet. But even if he had, Havana wasn't entirely lying, Beatrice and Havana had very little in common, different taste of men, different hobbies, although the same taste of casual banter. The only thing Havana might've been lacking was the confidence. Her sister knew how to throw her a bone once in a while, but so far? Havana's been faking this whole thing.

She's doin' pretty good if you ask her.

Mitchell here, would no doubt agree.

Look at his blank, brooding stare. It just screamed approval.

An amused grin was plastered onto her lips, careful not to laugh in the poor stranger's face. See, Hav was always so afraid that the people around her would somehow, someway learn what she was thinking. So far? That hasn't happened.

Yet.

It was only a matter of time before track star Mitch here revealed himself to be a psychic. And no, it wasn't a diss on his outfit.

Although tracksuits weren't her favorite, maybe he pulled it off. Who was she to ruin anyone's vibe? "Huh? Sorry, sorry. It'd be very appreciated Mr. McNeil." Havana gestured towards the suitcases, carefully putting the picture of him in her back pocket. That wasn't too weird, right? Oh, who cares. This picture was the first of many and Havana was almost positive she was going to have one of everyone of her roommates.

She didn't make the rules. It was in the lease.

'Caution: serial picture taker, live in this place at your own risk.'

The brunette followed Mitchell upstairs as he carried the... rather heavy suitcases upstairs and Havana couldn't help but raise an eyebrow or two. She might as well have packed rocks in there and this guy could probably pick it up as if it was a feather. Eh, she was always so insecure about her strength. As much as Havana could continue to compare herself to The Rock in phone wars, well, he had nothing on her.

To be completely honest, he probably had Mitch beat too.

Havana at the very least wanted to be considered in the running. A participation badge for more than five pushups without falling flat onto her face. "I'm guessing you're not a random stranger who stole a keycard and considered robbing everyone before you offered to help me, so the only logical explanation is that you're one of our roommates," she told him as they made their way up the many steps of the spiral staircase.

"I'm in the loft so we gotta-- uh... yeah," she clarified before continuing with her original thought. "Anyway, either you're proof that chivalry isn't dead, or your planning on holding me hostage as soon as we get up there." It wasn't meant to sound dirty. It probably wasn't in the first place, Havana could flirt endlessly on the phone because she was on one side of the screen. But as she said.

In person she was a flustered mess.

And it didn't have to do with anything romantic, a few words in and Havana was already stumbling over her words simply because she was nervous of making a terrible first impression. Yadadadada. She knew she was being a little repetitive and as much as Havana hated to repeat things over and over, she didn't have the greatest internal monologue other than cracking a few jokes, and just plain panic.

Sorry.

They reached the loft not long afterwards, and Havana was free to glance around the room a little more now that somebody wasn't intent on tackling her to the bed. She wasn't really ruling Mitch out though just yet.

The room... was still small.

She didn't enjoy small spaces. Hated it, even. The plane ride had practically nailed that into existence when the flight attendants were teaching her how to breathe through a paper bag like a seven year old with asthma or something.

But... her seat did get upgraded because of that panic attack... so maybe it's all going according to plan.

*insert dorkish finger guns here.*

She turned to Mitchell with a smile of appreciation. "Thank you, thank you." Hav said as she balanced herself on her heels, averting her gaze from the man while she thought of how exactly to break the ice without being a bit too forward.

"Do you take tips?" She teased, almost forgetting about the photo in her pocket, only realizing it was there after she stuck her hands in her back pockets.

"I'd offer you the picture, but I think I might hold onto that-"

"Not for anything weird though-- I'm completely normal."

That one? Oh, that one was a complete lie.
...

Ha, imagine being normal.
Havana D'arco
º º code by ditto º º
 
"The glass of my intentions turn to sand"
Genesis McKnight
@TurboGen has set their status to:
First impressions are important right?

@TurboGen has set their outfit to:
Casual

@TurboGen has set their location to:
Kitchen

@Turbo Gen has mentioned:
Roomies (not really by name)

@TurboGen has Interacted with:
Ashton ( u k i y o u k i y o ), Ellara ( LooneyLani LooneyLani ), Marlowe ( Togy Togy )
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Considering Genesis was a pretty organized person in general cleaning didn't take too long. It was more re-organizing then anything since she now knew she needed to actually share the space, and who knew how much stuff her roommate was bringing in. You'd think seeing the cleared area would've calmed her nerves. You know clean space clean mind or something like that? Nope. Bonus? It hadn't gotten worse, so she supposed it did part of it's job. She took one more look at herself in the mirror before heading out and down the stairs to where she could very clearly hear the commotion.

She saw quite a few people but it still only looked liked about half of the total amount that should be here. Which only made her more anxious because...wow was there already a lot going on. She decided to only glance around the living room as she walked to the kitchen. She could try to figure out what was going on or she could leave it alone. She decided on the latter. She didn't need to be a part of everything right? In fact that was probably the best course of action. Befriend a few people so living here wasn't awkward, but she didn't need to get mixed into everyone's business and certainly not drama.

Fingers crossed she'd stick to her guns this time.

She made her way to the kitchen with a warm smile gracing her lips. Everyone seemed to be interested in the coffee and judging by the twitter debates it'd be a whole war if she made a comment about that fact. "Good afternoon everyone! I'm Genesis." She chimed grabbing herself a glass of water. Benefit of towering over almost everyone? There was no shelf she couldn't reach so grabbing a glass off the top shelf came with ease. Her eyes then drifted to the cookies on the counter with a cute little card saying to enjoy. "Oo did one of you make these?" She asked around to the others standing there.

She could sort of tell who they were based on twitter pictures. She was certain the curly haired boy was Ashton, then Ellara was the brunette, and Marlowe was the one swearing not to be associated with the others nearby. That might be true, but didn't living together make them all sort of associated now? Perhaps not friends, but peers right? Maybe she was thinking too deeply into it, and took one of the cookies to nibble on.

Good god was it delicious!

She'd have liked some coffee but once she kicks a habit it's best not for her to travel down that road again. Was she afraid her addiction to coffee will lead down the same slippery slope as before? Yes, even if it made no sense, the fear was always there. A constant battle in her mind over what's ok to enjoy and indulge in and what will ruin her in the long run.

She grinned, "What have I missed?" She figured more had to have happened between when she got here from work and now. Her housemates were entertaining in their group chat, so she was curious to see how they were in person. Especially at this so-called "welcome" party. "Do you guys think that competition thing is really happening?" She asked curiously. After all it really was hard to tell what was and wasn't a joke around here. She wasn't talking to any singular person around her, just open conversation for anyone willing to indulge her.
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Beatrice D'Arco
@beadarc has set her status to:
lucky's neck is irredeemably fucked but hey, at least red's hot

@beadarc has set her outfit to:
yesterday's fit

@beadarc has set her location to:
the living room

@beadarc has mentioned:
Hav & Mitch

@beadarc has interacted with:
Red, Lucky, Leo (briefly), Maddie (briefly)

@beadarc has tagged:
Xed Xed sublimed sublimed Winona Winona FireMaiden FireMaiden
If there was one thing Beatrice D’Arco was amazing at, it was her ‘You Fucked Up’ expression. Back in her days in the military, Bea was well known for her signature glare that sent skittish new recruits scurrying off and quickly shut cocky bastards right up. The glare was Bea’s favourite tool in her arsenal of certified badassery (mostly because it was the only tool that wouldn’t get her fired or thrown in jail) but with every strength came a weakness. In this circumstance, that weakness came as one Havana D’Arco.

Like any normal siblings do, Bea and Hav had had their fair share of fights and arguments over the years. There had been times where the two had gone for the silent treatment or the play fighting that went too far or the passive aggressive comments. Other times, they had straight up bitch fests that required their parents to sit them down and talk some sense into them. But even through all the fights, no matter how important or how petty, Bea was never ever able to break out her glare on her little sister.

So, as hard as she tried to stand there and scowl as her sister walked away, Bea’s face instantly broke out into a grin as soon as she was out of Hav’s line of sight. Tough Bitch facade aside, Bea was so incredibly happy to see her sister. The two hadn’t been able to see each other for a while for various reasons and just having her back in the house felt like coming home even if all she had done was slung her over her shoulder and paraded around the house.

Spinning on her heels to watch her sister climb up the stairs, Bea noticed another figure at the top, the person she believed to be Mitch. Was he actually talking? Bea narrowed her eyes. No, it couldn’t be him, he had barely said a full sentence since he had arrived to her and they shared the same damn room. The look of confusion melted away to a look of proud surprise as she placed her head and nodded to herself.

“Well, I guess miracles do happen. Well done Ha-”

Bea then focused on the person in front of her, a slightly damp and incredibly shirtless Atlas Reddinger. Bea’s hands remained firmly placed on her hips as she looked the man very obviously up and down, nodding once again to herself.

“So we’re clear, the miracle was not you.” Bea said plainly, looking back up to the now empty staircase. Her expression never faltered, the hue in her cheeks never changing as she looked back to Atlas. Ah yes, the Beatrice D’Arco pokerface: another classic look. “I mean, you’ve blessed us all this afternoon with everything you’ve got going on there with the whole ‘I’m hot, shirtless, and fresh out of the shower’ thing, you smell wonderful by the way, but the miracle is Hav becoming a Mitch Whisperer. I could’ve sworn I saw his lips move just now.”

Without another word, Bea then turned her attention to the others in the room as if nothing had happened, her boldness brushed to the side nonchalantly as she walked right past Red and up the stairs to her room. The stupid dress was starting to become unbearably uncomfortable to the point where her skin felt like it was crawling. She needed to shower but first she needed coffee or something to wake her up. Slipping out of the dress, Bea made an attempt to chuck it into the hamper on the other side of the room. Missing horribly, the dress tumbled to the floor.

“Fuck it.” Bea hummed to herself as she grabbed yesterday’s jeans, tank top, and sweater before returning to the living room.

People had begun to gather, the thrill of moving in obviously drawing them to the common spaces. Surveying the room, she took a quick head count. There were a few people in the kitchen, Ellara being the only one she could clearly see, and some people in the-

Bingo.

“Well well well, Princess finally decided to show up, huh?” Bea teased loudly as she walked past Leo and the girl who was attempting to talk to him, Maddison, if Bea had remembered correctly. “So lovely of you to grace us with your presence, Your Majesty.” Giving a quick fake bow to Leo, she looked to Maddison and winked. “Pleasure to meet you in person, I’m Bea.”

Walking over to the couch, Bea bent over the back and gently poked the back of Lucky’s head.

“Long night or rough morning?” Bea joked with a bright laugh as she carefully vaulted over the back of the couch and lowered herself down so that she was sitting on Lucky’s back with her legs gracefully crossed beneath her. Cracking her knuckles, Bea rubbed her hands together to warm up her fingertips slightly before they found Lucky’s neck, her thumbs instantly finding knots in the muscle. “Shit dude, what did you do to your neck? And no IOU needed.”

With her hands still rubbing out the knots in Lucky’s neck, she looked back up to Atlas and grinned, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“So tell me, Fireboy, are you gonna be down for that pole dancing competition later or are you wimping out?” Bea asked with a competitive bite in her tone, her eyes drifting from Atlas to the firepole on the other side of the living room. “I get it if you want to chicken out. Lucky’s taught me all of his best moves and I know it is gonna suck to lose so early in the 14th Avenue game. But, if you’re not gonna wuss out, I should warn you that the clothes are gonna have to stay off. It’s unprofessional to strip fully clothed or so I’ve heard.”

Bea dug her thumb into a spot in Lucky’s shoulder, the muscle twitching angrily under her finger before it began to release.

“Lucky, man, I have no clue what you did to your neck and shoulders but you are wound up as hell.”

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ATLAS REDDINGER
@redalert has set their status to:
I'm winning this dance off

@redalert has set their outfit to:
shirtless with jeans

@redalert has set their location to:
the living room

@redalert has interacted with:
bea, hav, lucky, chris, mitch(mentioned)

@characterusername has mentioned:
geminiy geminiy Soap Soap Norrsken Norrsken sublimed sublimed

Atlas smiled as Havana bounced over, bright and bubbly as he imagined her to be in their fun little flirtations over twitter the past few days. The D’Arco sisters were really attractive, they hadn’t been kidding about those good genes, and it was cute to see the flush of colour on Havana’s cheeks as she flashed him a charming smile and held out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too Hav,” he replied, returning the smile with one of his own as he shook her hand, “and I’m sure I’d have to disagree with you on those pictures, if I ever get to see them.” He briefly watched as she skipped over to Bea and hugged her. She was like the cute little sister he never had. Well, there were the twins Amara and Alethea, but they didn’t count as cute. Not after that first time they fought with each other immediately after they’d move to New Orleans and he made the stupid mistake of trying to stop them while they were tearing at each other’s hair. He’d somehow ended up getting knocked out (the details were fuzzy) and woke up on the floor amidst a half-wrecked room with a then 4-year-old Adonis drawing on his face and a splitting headache. Other than Donnie, not cute at all. After that incident he’d learned to just sit and leave them to it, busy himself with a book or something and deal with them after they’d worn themselves out. So long as neither one of them ended up dead it was all good. Considering that they were both healthy 23 year olds now, he’d definitely done a good job on that front.

As Hav disappeared up the stairs, he returned his attention to Bea to see that she had turned around. She had started saying something but stopped mid-sentence as her eyes landed on him and he couldn’t help but smile. Was he that attractive to her? Good being seen as attractive was always a good thing. He cocked an eyebrow as she let her eyes roam up and down, making no secret of the fact that she was checking him out but somehow keeping a perfect poker face on the whole time. She clearly wasn’t going to give him the full satisfaction of seeing her flush or melt that easily, to see exactly what she thought of his appearance written on her face. “I’m not the miracle? You wound me Bea," he said, feigning sadness as he raised a hand to his heart, "but I'm honoured that you feel blessed by my presence and think I smell good." The easy smile returned as he finished. He took a mental note of her mention that Hav had become a Mitch whisperer. If that was the case, he needed her to teach him her tricks. He worked with the man on a daily basis and hadn't gotten him to say much more than "fuck off" or some other variation of it since a couple of years back when something had happened to him and he flipped a switch. It still irked him that he didn't know the full details of exactly what caused the drastic change. So if Hav could get him to speak to her on the first day of them meeting, then she was a magician.

When Bea walked right past him like he wasn't there, Atlas couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle and shake his head. Tough crowd. She really was not going to give him anything easy, and somehow that was so much fun. It was like this weird little game of messing and flirting with each other that was strangely addicting, and it was really bringing out the mischievous and playful side of him.

The sound of a howl interrupted Atlas’ thoughts and he whipped around grinning from ear to ear to see Chris descending the stairs and approaching with a cigarette in his mouth. He returned the howl with a quick one of his one before reaching out to pull him into a quick hug. “What up wolf brother? I’ll have to pass on the cigarette,” smoking wasn’t really his thing, he dealt with enough smoke in his job and he wanted to stay healthy, “I accept the offer of peace though. It’s really good to see you.” He’d known the man only a couple of days, but he loved him like a brother already, as much as he loved Kevin, Adrian and Donnie. They were going to have such a blast living together and hanging out, he could see it already, the nights out on town, the inside jokes, the howl. He wouldn’t be short of fun or laughs with Chris around.

Bea returned shortly after, heading straight to the couch in a different outfit, a simple black singlet and jeans with a grey cardigan that made her look as stunning, maybe more so than the little blue dress from earlier. Their eyes met as she massaged Lucky’s neck and there was a mischievous glint in it that had him excited about what she going to throw his way this time. At her mischievous taunt, he tossed his head back and let out a chortle of laughter.Oh, you know I’m down. I ain’t letting you take the win that easy Ice. Besides, I want to see if you can work the poses for a fireman calendar better than I can.” He ran a hand through his hair as he spoke, a roguish smirk on his face as he met her gaze. “And if you just want me to stay topless, you need only ask,” he added cheekily with a small wink, hand falling to the towel and clutching the end, “I’m a gentleman, I won’t refuse a reasonable request from a lady.”

He made his way to a nearby seat, leaning into it as he let out a sigh of satisfaction. This was the life; fun roommates, nice furniture, spacious living space and good fun. Lucky’s voice reached his ears and he could hear the satisfaction in his tone as Bea worked the tension out of his muscles. The mention of their twitter conversation had Atlas smiling. He was having way too much fun with that chat, it was so worth the pain of spending all that time with Alethea and having her teach him how to use it and make sure he remembered it right. He had to buy her donuts everyday for two weeks, a complete robbery at the time, but the enjoyment he was getting out of it now made the deal feel a hell of a lot more worth it. “Yeah I know Luck,” he chuckled, “I’m trusting you to be an impartial judge on our ‘Pants Off Dance Off'. Don’t throw me the loss because Bea’s your friend or because you want to see me on that calendar now, I'll be heartbroken." He paused, curving his lips into a small pout for effect before it quickly dissolved back into a smile. "I’m excited to dance to the songs, already practicing my moves.” He added giving his shoulders a wiggle as he did a little shimmy in his seat.

Lucky’s next question made Atlas laugh, as did the words that followed. They certainly did have one hell of an attractive group here, he wouldn’t be surprised if something did happen. He certainly had a vibe or whatever you wanted to call it, going with Bea in the twitter. She was very attractive and so far he enjoyed their exchanges a lot, but he wasn't planning on jumping into anything this early on, certainly not anything serious. Sure he was single, he went on dates, flirted, had the occasional short fling - he wasn't a monk nor was he going to pretend to be - but nothing more than that. After his breakup with his ex-girlfriend Olivia, he’d come to realise, much to Agnes’ abject horror, that relationships just weren’t for him. Not that he had been completely unhappy and tortured or suffering when he was with Liv - there were plenty of good times to look back on, and really he'd rather recall those - but he was just happier being single, and despite his older sister’s best attempts to convince him otherwise and get him hitched, he was planning to keep it that way.
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[
is it heaven up there? is it heaven up there?
is it heaven up there? 'cuz it's hell down here...

L O C A T I O N : 14th

M E N T I O N S : bea

I N T E R A C T I O N S : havana

T A G S : Soap Soap

T L ; D R : mitchell being a mildly awkward, kind of boring, very cold grown ass man.

This young woman seemed to enjoy talking.

Mitchell figured that it wouldn’t be too long before she got tired enough of her own voice and chose to tell him the direction to take her bags; most talkative people eventually gave up and moved to the point with his lack of responses.

He preferred to see his coldness as a simple way to get others to cut to the chase; it was a natural way to waste less of everyone’s time.

“Last names, too? Wow, we’re really gettin’ somewhere, aren’t we?” she said. “Well, Mitchell McNeil, I’m a D’Arco.”

D’Arco. Mitchell looked the name over in his head for a moment, trying to place it. It sounded familiar, to the point that he was certain that the place that the name went was right in front of his face, but Mitch never had been much good with names, and he didn’t pay much attention to faces, either.

“Don’t worry, though. I’m nothing like my sister.”

Sis…ah. Was that right…?

Mitchell’s roommate was a D’Arco as well. Beatrice, or something along those lines.

Havana’s demeanor was entirely unlike her sister’s. She seemed far less serious, and distinctly younger, with the knowledge of her age having been brought on by the glow of naïveté in Havana’s bright eyes. He supposed that she was pretty, in the same way that an oil portrait was; her face was shining with youth and health in a way that nearly made him envious.

He watched Havana, the cold, vacant expression on his face a stark contrast to the bright smile on her face.

He’d asked her about the bags, and he was still awaiting an answer. As little as he had to do elsewhere, time was moving on, and it would soon leave them behind if she continued to speak as much as she did.

“Huh?” She seemed to recall the question that he had asked, and she quickly apologized. “Sorry, sorry. It'd be very appreciated, Mr. McNeil." She gestured toward the suitcases, and he leaned down to pick them up.

The way that she’d said his name seemed rather impersonal, which was his preference for everything.

The bags were light, though Mitchell assumed that it was due to his muscle mass rather than to the actual weight of the bags. Seeing as the young woman before him seemed to be nearly half a foot shorter than himself, or perhaps a little more, the difference in their physical abilities was unremarkable.

He assumed that she wanted her bags carried up the stairs, and, bags in hand, he began to ascend the stairs, carrying the things as if they were nothing.

“I’m guessing you’re not a random stranger who stole a keycard and considered robbing everyone before you offered to help me, so the only logical explanation is that you’re one of our roommates,” came Havana’s voice from behind him.

He figured that was a joke.

He didn’t laugh.

"I'm in the loft, so we gotta— uh...yeah.”

He silently took in her directions: keep going up.

“Anyway, either you're proof that chivalry isn't dead, or your planning on holding me hostage as soon as we get up there."

He blinked, unsure of how to respond.

At least he had the bags to give him something to do. This allowed him to remain silent and continue climbing the stairs until he finally reached the loft, having said no more words than he had at the ground floor.

When he reached the loft and sat the bags on the floor before him, he glanced up at the room. It was rather…small for a living space. Due to his line of work, he was used to crawling into odd, tight spaces, but he didn’t think that this would be a particularly comfortable place to live.

This was more the size that he had expected when he saw the rent prices.

The young woman turned to Mitchell, a bright, appreciative smile on her face that fell far short of causing Mitchell to make any discernible expression of his own. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, braking eye contact again. He’d already noticed this trend with Havana: her inability to look him in the eyes for too long. He was used to it, so it wasn’t particularly notable. “Do you take tips?” she asked, reaching into her back pocket.

He glanced down to see the picture that she’d taken of him poking out of her pocket, and his eyes shifted back to her eyes. “I’d offer you the picture, but I think I might hold onto that— not for anything weird, though— I’m completely normal.”

How…was he supposed to respond to such a thing…?

“I…” He trailed off, entirely unsure of what to say.

He cleared his throat, coughing slightly. “It was nothing.” He held up his hand, giving her a slight nod. “No thanks necessary, and no payment necessary.” His tone was cold, unfeeling, and…mildly awkward.

He didn’t know how to respond to things like cheerful conversation, much less…this general situation. He could say, in all of his twenty-eight years, he had never had a photo snapped of him and shoved into a back pocket while being sworn to that the photo wasn’t for anything weird. He wasn’t sure what that anything weird was, but it made it seem as if that anything weird was, in fact, happening, and…

Mitchell was not apt to respond.

Instead, he went back to the task at hand: occupying his time with work, rather than with words. “Is there anything else I can help with, Ms. D’Arco?” he asked, his low-pitched voice maintaining its stoic tone as he addressed her in the same way that she’d addressed him.

This was about as much conversation as the man did: three-to-four abrupt, cold sentences.

This was Mitchell at his most talkative.
mitchell mcneil
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raelyn clifford
@craescendo has set their status to:
conceal don't feel

@craescendo has set their outfit to:
cool n casual

@craescendo has set their location to:
14th avenue, room #2

@craescendo has mentioned:
people

@craescendohas interacted with:
amos

@craescendo has tagged:
ditto ditto

@craescendo has written a tl;dr:
moving on up to a deluxe apartment in the skyyyyyy

conceal don't feel

conceal don't feel

conceal don't feel


amos was making her mantra incredibly hard to follow.

ever since it came out, frozen was one of her favorite movies. sure she was a little older when it came around, but she couldn't help but love it. the fact that she was older helped her appreciate the musicality of the movie. the vocals, the writing, the motifs and themes, she loved it all. and of course, she did feel like a little kid when she watched it, but who didn't?

most people thought it was because she related with anna, which would be a fair assessment; looks on the bright side of things, resilient, adventurous,

was in love with someone who never truly loved her

it was fair to think that rae loved frozen because of anna. but the truth was, rae, moreso mahnh, found herself relating more with elsa.

no, rae didn't have secret magic powers and no, rae wasn't endangering an entire country she was supposed to rule.

but she did lose her parents. and once her parents were gone, she felt completely alone and out of place. she felt like no one would ever understand, like she would never belong. there were so many times that rae felt like doing what elsa did, running away, back to taiwan, so she could feel like she was where she was supposed to be.

coming to a new country at such a young age had very diverse effects for everyone. for some, it was an eye opening and humbling experience, for some it was a way to flaunt their wealth, and for rae, it made her feel like an outsider. she didn't even look like the people who were trying to parade as her "parents". she looked different from everyone around her, it made her feel like something was wrong with her.

fortunately, rae got over that mindset very quickly. once she started high school and found a place for herself, she realized how truly different everyone was, beyond skin tone and eye color.

but there would always be this voice in the back of her mind, saying that she didn't belong. that she stood out like a sore thumb.

so yea, rae fell in love with frozen. she got so used to repeating that same phrase over and over.

conceal don't feel

conceal don't feel

conceal. don't. feel.


it wasn't working.

why the heck wasn't it working?

oh

that's right

because it was amos.

because from a very early time in their friendship, amos proven himself to be a non-judgmental figure in rae's life. from a very early time in their friendship, rae knew that amos would never harshly judge her on anything, that he would put her feelings before his own.

so no, her mantra wouldn't be working. not right then.

rae wrapped her arms around her best friend's torso as he had already enveloped her in a hug.

man am i grateful for you

rae could never express how much she loved and appreciated her best friend. he was always there for her in times of need, even when she wanted to go out for ice cream at three in the morning, the night before a final. he would drag himself out of bed and tag along with her. rae always forgot that they had only met in high school and not as childhood friends. they had grown to learn so much about each other.

and amos knew that rae could never turn down a hug.

she felt herself squeezing his torso, harder than normal. she was trying so hard not to just start sobbing. there were other people in the house, they were supposed to have a party tonight, and if rae started crying right then and there, she would want to stay in her room, curled up in her bed for the rest of the night.

thankfully, rae was used to swallowing her feelings for others' sake. she was a high school teacher after all, rae couldn't even recall all the times where she was dealing with something personal and had to not feel any of it during the day when she was with her kids. and none of her kids ever knew what was going on, they never hinted at anything being wrong.

rae stood there for a moment, hugging amos in the middle of their room.

she allowed herself to feel her own feelings

she allowed matty to have two more tears

then that was it.

at least before the party. all bets were off to how she would be after the party.

she took a small half-step back, amos' arms still wrapped around her. she continued to wipe her eyes with the heel of her hand, trying to gather the courage to look amos in the eyes.

"i'm sorry," her dark brown eyes looked up at her best friend, feeling guilt and shame. "i'm sorry we fought over him, i'm sorry i couldn't see what you were talking about, i'm sorry i ever thought you weren't just looking out for me. i'm so so so sorry,"

and she was. there were so many times where rae was convinced amos was just jealous that she had another guy that was close to her to hang out with. she thought that he saw matty as a replacement to him, which rae understood in the beginning of their relationship. but the more amos pointed out the awful things matty had done, rae continued to think amos was just trying to break them up so they could be each other's only best friends. rae hated herself for being that blind to everything.

in the past few hours she had been over examining every little bit from their four year relationship. did matty ever truly love her? if he did, when did he stop? why didn't he just break up with her then? what if that was how he loved? did he realize what he was doing was wrong?

or am i the issue?

the thought had never left rae's mind. what if it was just an issue with rae? to be fair, this was her first major relationship, but what if that was the reason? she was too sweet and nice or too boring or too innocent or too much of a pushover or too trusting?

how unloveable am i?

rae continued to force herself to look at amos, she hated that she had hurt and upset him through her being so stupid. she hated that she ever raised her voice or got upset with him over a boyfriend who ended up leaving.

"i'm so sorry, amos, i really am."
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[
sun is shinin' in the sky
there ain't a cloud in sight

L O C A T I O N : 14th

M E N T I O N S : n/a

I N T E R A C T I O N S : raelyn

T A G S : sunshineysoul sunshineysoul

Amos had never had any relationships that lasted past two months. There was just always a certain plateau that he hit at around that mark, and then his partner would start to ask if he was losing interest, and then he’d realize that he didn’t really have much interest to begin with. It was…weird, and Amos concluded, after each run, that it was just because he hadn’t found the one yet, and he kept moving on, and he kept looking.

He couldn’t begin to imagine what Raelyn was going through.

Rae had spent countless hours gushing to Amos, in person and over the phone, about Matthias— about everything about Matthias. The small things that he did, the way that he moved and the way that he smiled at her, the little things that she used as “proof” that he loved her, and those things— the bare minimum was the way that Amos saw them— were all the proof that she needed to stay. She talked to Amos about her wedding. Every time she spoke, her brown eyes lit up with the idea that she had a future.

Not even an idea, actually.

She was sure of it.

She spoke like she knew that Matty and she were going to have a future— that they had a future.

Past all of the fights, past all of the cheating, past all of the manipulation and all of the lies, Rae was in love.

Matty was not.

No one who loved anyone could do that to them. They wouldn’t cheat on them, they wouldn’t fight with hem constantly, they wouldn’t bruise them.

They wouldn’t toss them out and away like trash.

The anger that burned on his chest physical hurt his heart.

He heard Rae sniffle, and he looked down at her. Her shoulders trembled in a way that he knew could only mean that she was crying.

She stepped back slightly, wiping her eyes with the butt of her palms.

“I’m sorry.”

Her eyes met his, and the tears in them made him grow pale.

The acid in his heart boiled over, spilling into his stomach and sending one thought into his brain:

I’m going to kill that bastard.

“I’m sorry we fought over him, I’m sorry I couldn’t see what you were talking about, I’m sorry I ever thought you weren’t just looking out for me. I’m so, so, so sorry.”

She was apologizing for something that wasn’t her fault.

She was apologizing for being deceived, for being lied to.

It wasn't her fault.

It wasn't her fault.

“I’m so sorry, Amos.” The pain in her eyes sent a shock through his spine that swelled behind his eyes. “I really am."

He stared at her for a moment, his own eyes growing wet.

And then he pulled her tightly to his body again.

“Shh,” he hushed gently, not even trying to hold back his tears. “It’s alright…it’s alright…” He rubbed his hand against her back. “It’s fine to cry...don’t hold back.”

The anger could wait.

Matty could wait.

Rae was hurting.

“It’s just a…shitty situation,” he murmured, holding his best friend tightly. “You’ve been through so much…and I don’t want you to apologize anymore.” His voice was soft as a sympathetic tear rolled off of his cheek. “I’m not mad at you…and none of this is your fault…and I’m here for you. I will be here for you through all of this, and I’ll do anything I can for you…”

He rubbed her back. “It’s alright…I’m here.”
amos anderson
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