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Realistic or Modern Cities Never Sleep

Characters
Here
Other
Here
MOOD: Annoyed

OUTFIT: justin x britney who

LOCATION: Chalamet Building
basics
MENTIONS:

INT:
Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
doedeer doedeer
tags
TL;DR Sed fermentum tortor nulla, vel sodales nibh bibendum eu. Maecenas a lacus a libero blandit commodo. In lobortis aliquam urna, id tempor ex semper at
tl;dr
ashley park
I'm not that nice, I'm mean and I'm evil, don't call me nice

“Chill?” Ash let out an indignant huff “I'm chill! You be chill you mopheaded Avril Lavigne wannabe!”

Dustin's attempt to pat her head resulted in Ash swatting his hand away, in addition to punching his chest with all the strength and fervor a tiny girl could manage. God, she hated when he called her a baby. As if he was so much more mature himself. Though they exchanged flirtatios banter regularly, that diminuitive nickname haunted her no matter how old they got, taunting her, reminding her that he primarily saw her as a whiny baby. But instead of maturing or growing to win his affection, she doubled down on the moodiness and attitude, reasoning that any attempt to grow likely wouldn't last, and he'd see the real less than perfect Ash anyway, so why bother? Nevertheless, she absolutely loathed the fact that her pathetic one sided love would stay one-sided on account of being babyzoned.

Rolling her eyes at his trasition to civility when presented with people worthy of the "teenager" title in Dustin's book, Ashley quickly perked up at the sight of Deirdre Thackery. "Hey Deirdre! Dustin was being a dick and not answering the door, so I was trying to get his attention." She responded bluntly, sticking her tongue out at the older boy. Mrs Thackery was far too often caught in the middle of arguments between Dustin and Ashley, as the pair had been bickering since childhood, and didn't eve bat an eye at Ashley's harsh language. Actually she might have, but Ash had long blocked out any orders to mind her language.

In a way, the Thackery's had been a second home to Ashley growing up. Deirdre had always welcomed the motherless young girl into her home for "playdates" with Dustin, allowed her to partake of the delicious food, and even stay the night when John allowed it. No matter how kind and parental she got, Ash always tried to keep some level of distance, that thin layer of playfulness and snark that hid the bitter child within, always seperating Ash from any genuine connection or chance to open up to her surrogate mother. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't stop herself from resenting fact that she had to borrow somebody else's mother. The closer she got with them, the angrier the voice in the back of her head got, reminding Ash that none of it was really hers. Deirdre could get sick of her at any moment, and nothing would keep them tied together. Her kindness truly overwhelmed the young girl, and despite years of evidence proving otherwise, her survival instinct never died down, always a little jumpy, and a little prepared for Deirdre to simply not allow her in the house anymore. But until that day came, she knew that offering an adorable baby to play with for the day was as much of a reward to baby-fever Deirdre as it was to Ash.

"Chrissy!" Ash exclaimed, grinning as the young girl bounded up to her, and commencing the elaborate secret handshake they'd spent what felt like forever, developing. As Dustin's sister made a wisecrack about Oli's skin, Ashley giggled, ruffling the munchkin's hair to express approval. She knew it was wrong to keep fucking with Oli. But his earnesttness and serious reaction to everything made it all the funnier. And she'd certaintly taught Chrissy well, if the tyke had begun her gremlinhood so young.

Leaving Chrissy with Charlie, Ashley strode over to Oli. "She's so right, you look like a corpse. But zombies are fucking cool don't ya think? I mean think aboutt it. You'd be basically immortal. I mean what's someone gonna do, kill ya? You're already dead." She chuckled, continuing to ramble about zombies as they walked. "Have you watched the Walking Dead? Yeah they die there, but like they really shouldn't. Killing a dead bitch makes no sense. Dustin back me up here!" She called out, gesturing for him to join the group.

code by valen t.
 
MOOD: ...

OUTFIT: No Patriotism Here

LOCATION: Pier
basics
MENTIONS:


INT:
Evie sunnieside sunnieside
tags
TL;DR Hm.
tl;dr
Matt

Matt had an almost perpetual dourness to him. A seriousness. Something in his general… appearance that screamed “grumpy English professor.” It wasn’t necessarily not only how he dressed or acted… It was just… him. For a lack of better words.

His lips pulled back into something akin to a smile. Sharp, almost a sneer as his friend behind next to him coughed in a cigarette. Humorless, though. Most definitely faked. None of his smiles tended to reach his eyes anyways. It left as quickly as it came.

The quick flip of a silver cigarette holder, pulling out a black stick of nicotine and chemicals that would surely kill him before the ripe age of 40. And then the extension of two pale fingers, a silent beckoning and request. Beer never came free, and the price to pay was a light.

He lit his cigarette and took a drag, handing back the borrowed one.

“What brings you to a place like this? You don’t seem like the extroverted type?”

A snort of amusement, and another sharp smile. Whether or not those were real, well, that was up to her interpretation, wasn’t it? Certainly didn’t matter to him, now did it.

“What can I say, I enjoy being an enigma.” And that was it. That was the most of an answer she was going to get, though perhaps she was used to his responses being of a rather frustratingly vague manner. “Besides, I can’t think of anything more enjoyable than sweating my ass off while being heavily judged by the parents who think their children are little precious angels who can’t handle seeing someone dressed in black on national patriotism day.”

Yeah. He didn’t really believe anything of what he just said, but to be completely honest that was the Matt way. Say a bunch of bullshit that he did not mean, with perhaps a small kernel of truth buried somewhere deep inside.

But he was charming. In a strange, not so charming way. The blunt way he spoke, the straightforwardness. A dark and intense gaze. A cigarette between his fingers, and the curls of a smile at the very edges of his mouth.

The smile lasted longer than the previous one, and faded as she spoke once more. An intent and avid listener.

Pastries, huh? Well. Pastries weren’t really his thing.

It was a long story, and to be honest, it doesn’t really matter to your perceptions of him. So here’s a brief summary.

He used to travel a lot, eat a lot of exotic foods, lots of spice, lots of flavor. Genuinely one of the more enjoyable parts of the lifestyle he led. And then - and it doesn’t matter why - he got stuck in a safehouse for a month or two all with just him and a family friend, forced to eat increasingly stale military rations…

Long story short, he lost any ability to be picky after that.

And then, you know, when the depression hit, it was really hard for him to taste anything anyways. Food just all tasted… bland and meaningless. Which was a shame, because when his head cleared in the rare moments of clarity that he received, he could begin to taste things again. And Matt found that that helped his persistently dour mood.

But food was generally not something that interested him when all he could taste was bland nothingness.

Even he, though, knew it’d be rude to outright refuse a baker’s pastries. And it wasn’t like he was affronted by his own shortcomings to be particularly nasty to his acquaintance.

“We’ll see.” He responded, with another mysterious smile. “As for the fireworks… Hm. Probably somewhere away from all the crowds, right?”

Easy. Noncommittal.

Another hard question. How did he feel about Fourth of July.

Mixed. Extremely mixed. On one hand, he loved his parents. Or, he thought he did. He was pretty sure he felt… warm towards them, at the very least. In the abstract realm of thought, he was definitely sure that he was supposed to feel love towards them - even if they hadn’t been around very much. He liked his parents’ friends - all of which dedicated and risked their lives for America to say the very least. Bothered to wade waist deep into the darker side of everything for the sake of their country.

But he’d also seen that darker side as well. There was a saying, in the circles he ran, that if you don’t hear from someone after a year, they were most likely dead.

Died for this country doing something very shady and at best morally gray. No funeral would be held. No recognition.

Perhaps that was why he wore black to these kinds of events. Some kind of holdover from his past life. Watching the fireworks… Both a joy, and a deep sense of melancholy that could wash over a person if they were so inclined.

Hell, even Matt could say that he felt something watching them and thinking of the people who raised him. And that was truly saying something.

He was a man chasing emotion, and he supposed that anything that could give him the tiniest glimmer of feeling was worth trying.

But could he say that to Evelyn?

That opened up a lot of doors that he really couldn’t answer. Like where were his parents? What were they doing? How do you know all of this?

He couldn’t say any of it. Quite literally, legally obligated to not say any of that.

“... I enjoy the people watching. And I play a little game. Count the amount of sunburnt parents wearing American flags and pretending they’re having a good time.” A joke. Hopefully that would be enough of an answer.

A pause, a slight head tilt. “We can even make it a drinking game if you want. Every time one of these fucks does something annoying and obnoxious in the name of America, take a drink.”
code by valen t.
 
Abigail
Hargreaves
excited for fireworks!
https:///www.tumblr.com/abby.hargreaves
““Oh.. uh… Joshua.”” were the only words that stammered out of the boy's mouth. Abigail stuck the money back in her wallet after he told her that he didn't need the cash and he would buy it for her. She smiled at him, "Thank you, that's so kind." Joshua walked off to go buy the concessions that she had requested. She wanted to insist on buying it herself, but she didn't want to intrude on his kind offer. After what seemed like forever, Joshua returned back holding a bag of popcorn and a bottle of water, "I hope popcorn is ok?” He spoke up as he handed her the bag, “Last time I felt sick at a fair, my mum gave me popcorn and it made me feel a lot better." The boy sat next to Abigail, but left room between the two, which was very considerate of him, even though she wouldn't have mind if he sat closer.

Joshua spoke up once again to Abigail, asking if she was okay and if he needed to get her a taxi or any kind of ride home. "I would love to just stay here and hang out, I'll be able to sober up in no time." There was no way that she was going home while as fucked up as she was, and definitely no way she was leaving before the fireworks even started. The pier was filled with things to do, and the night was still early, so as generous as the boy was, she had to decline his offer. "Tell you what, if you're not b-" She stopped mid sentence, trying to gather her composure, "Busy, we should ha-" there was no way to stop what was coming next, she leans forward and vomits on the pier. "Fuck, oh my god, I'm so sorry." Abigail begins to profusely apologize as she noticed she had vomited all her stomach contents onto Joshua's shoes. "I'll clean it up, please, don't move, oh god, this is so embarrassing."

The girl stands up and begins to walk towards a concession stand to retrieve some paper towels and possibly some other cleaning supplies. There was no way that she was going to do that to the poor boy and not try to help him get cleaned up. As she walks, she begins adjusting her appearance as well, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "I should've eaten before I started drinking.." Abigail thought to herself, this was extremely unlike her and she was going to do everything she could to make things right. After gathering some things to clean up the area and Joshua's shoes, she begins making her way back to the crime scene. Water is poured onto the site of the vomit, then she kneels down and starts to clean off the boy's shoes. "Again, I'm so sorry, this is a horrible first impression. I promise you I'm not like this all the time. Let me make it up to you, please, any way that I can." Her eyes begin to well up once again, but after a few blinks, the tears were gone, she looks up at Joshua waiting for a response, hoping that he would forgive her.

coded by reveriee.
 
Last edited:






Reuben




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  • home (filler tab)


































Gorillaz



Clint Eastwood








“Reuben!”

He looked up at the voice, eyes settling on the man approaching from another greasy food vendor across the way.

Cooper Attenborough.

“I can’t believe it!” Cooper exclaimed in somewhat genuine surprise. He stepped towards Reuben, throwing his arms around him in an embrace that pushed every one of Reuben’s few professional boundaries. No problem. He could always arrest him for assault later.

“Yeah, me neither.” Reuben replied coldly, being freed from Cooper’s enthusiastic grip.

He waited silently as Cooper grunted, taking a bite from his hamburger. He even stayed silent as grease and juice dripped through Cooper’s hands and onto his black leather shoes. Okay, strike two. One more and Reuben would drag the stupid son of a bitch under the pier and kick seven shades of shit out of him.

Cooper grinned through a mouthful of meat and bread. “My bad.”

I will wipe that stupid grin off of your face with one swing of my baton, you obnoxious little prick.

Casually, Reuben leaned over the pier’s guardrails and spat his gum out into the murky water below. He’d encountered Cooper on various occasions over the course of the last few years, all of them in increasingly precarious contexts. Reuben had arrested him twice; the first only a misdemeanour, some lousy small-time vandalism or something, and the second for a bar fight – mostly because Reuben was pissed off he wasn’t involved. Anyhow, he looked on Cooper with an edge of distaste. He was reckless and so far up his own A-hole he didn’t know which way was up. Reuben had spent the last year keeping him at arm’s length, for his own security if nothing else.

“Listen,” Cooper started, breaking the silence before suspiciously looking to the left and the right. “I don't like to over take you like this but I think there's this thing where we could both profit off. It's actually great timing that I'm seeing you right now, you have no idea.”

He chucked the paper burger wrap he was holding, and Reuben smacked it out of his way.

He coughed, pursing his lips a little as he glanced over the boy’s shoulder at the crowds. Reuben was in uniform. He would have to be careful.

“This something to do with that little fight ring you got going on?” Reuben asked, smirking knowingly. “Yeah, heard all about that. Surprised you’d risk jail time again, pal. Ain’t you learn your lesson last time? Close call just wasn’t close enough?”

Reuben chuckled, looked about once more, then took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it between his lips.

“Alright, by profit you mean cash, right? How much? What we talking here? I’m on duty, so it’s added risk, as you can imagine. And what you want me for, anyway? I’m not being no man’s bait. You can fuck off now if that’s the idea.”





♡coded by uxie♡
 







joshua jones



  • .



I'll be able to sober up in no time.

She… she was drunk?!

Joshua’s eyes widened at the sudden realisation that the girl before him wasn’t sick but was, in fact, somewhat inebriated. This was his first time dealing with a drunk person, let alone a girl. Usually, his sisters, his sister in laws and his mother were the ones who would approach women in need. His brothers and father were the ones to take the drunken under their wings. Joshua was always sort of just… there. In the background, watching and observing, not attempting to be the hero in these situations. And he was content in that. He was okay with being that person who stood by the sidelines and watched the game being played. But today was different. He was getting thrown into the deep end. All the observing and playing it safe was being tested with this girl before him.

A drunk girl. A double whammy.

As Abby began to speak again, Joshua made sure to bring his full attention to her. It was common courtesy, after all. She stopped mid-sentence but continued to speak in intervals. All the while, Joshua could see the colour in the girl’s face slowly start to fade to an ivory white. The rosiness of her cheeks which were once flushed, resembled one of a ghost’s. Honestly, it should’ve been a massive red flag in his face for the events that were to happen next. The girl leaned over and spilled the entirety of her stomach's contents onto the pier floor - and onto his shoes. Joshua’s eyes widened, complexed by everything happening. Was this actually happening? Did she really just vomit… all over his nice, Sunday best dress shoes? He was in such a state of shock that he barely had time to react or respond to the girl as she stood from the bench and made her way over to the stands.

What would Jehovah do continued to echo in his mind. Jehovah wouldn’t get mad. Jehovah would want to make sure that she was ok. Shoes were just shoes. They could be replaced. A person’s health, though, was different. She scrambled back to him, beginning to clean his shoes and apologising profusely. Jehovah would forgive her. “It’s okay - honestly -” he began to reassure her, in the process of leaning forward to assist in the clean-up mission. At that moment, she looked up at him, her eyes wide and full of regret. Asking him if she could make it up to him in any way that she could. Joshua was frozen still. It had suddenly become so painfully obvious how close their faces were (in all honestly, they probably weren’t. But it was closest his face had ever been to anyone who wasn’t related to him; oh, and of the opposite sex also). Her wide, blue eyes just looked so refreshing; he was tempted to dive right into them for an afternoon swim on a hot, humid summer's day. Her skin, which was now starting to show a bit more colour, looked soft and smooth to touch. Her lips looked plush and plump and so very lonely. His heart began to race in his chest, his ears burned, and his throat became dry.

What would Jehovah do?

“Would… you like to come to our Bible study in a fortnight?”






/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
MOOD: Pleased with himself

OUTFIT: He’s a whore.

LOCATION: Pier
basics
MENTIONS:



INT:
Silvana floralmoon floralmoon

tags
TL;DR Flirting!!!
tl;dr
Graham

A smile, the sharp pulls at the corners of his mouth as he gave a grin to his newest best friend/near possible future hookup/victim of antics and revelry. Something warm and mischievous, something pleasantly vacant in all kind of careful planning of futures or schemes.

The accent took him a bit by surprise, though he took care to not let it reflect upon his face - his brain immediately filling in the gap of knowledge. Russian, then? Wasn’t there a family of Russian mobsters in town? Maybe he was breaking the one rule of the playboys and sticking his dick in crazy.

Well, he wasn’t really one for following rules anyways, the more violent a love affair was, at least towards him, the more excited he felt for what was to come.

“I’m Graham, it’s lovely to meet ya, love.” He said, with the offer of a handshake, bringing her hand to his lips with a little kiss - a bit of a purr in his voice as he did so. An over the top wink to top it all off. Almost as if coming out of a movie - unrealistic in how polite and charming that he attempted to be with a mix of flirtatious. “And you? Or would you prefer Beautiful instead?”

It was better for everyone in the long run if everyone knew exactly what Graham was asking for, anyways. It led to there being no miscommunications, no pining, no heartbreaks… A couple of slaps to the face here and there, angry words shouted at him with rage and disgust… But no mistaking him for anything that he wasn’t. And really, that’s what Graham wanted.

Complete and total transparency.

At the end of the day, he figured at least that the less his activities caused people pain, the better. He may have been an unabashed flirt, but he at least knew how to be a gentleman about it all. The people he slept with deserved that much. Someone that cared just a little bit about their comfort.

“This place seems a bit dead. You know someplace a bit more… lively?” He asked, a glance around at all the children and the parents trying to shush and corral them... It probably wasn't a good idea to do anything too obscene around them. But he also didn't want to seem like a creep... Hm. Okay. He could give her two options of response here. "Or do you, perhaps, have any ideas on how we can... liven this joint up a bit?"

code by valen t.
 





/* ------ left side ------ */




/* ------ left side info ------ */
mood OH FUK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK !!!

location secret beach spot with the rocks

outfit peep the fit

fun fact may or may not have pissed his pants

tag weldherwings weldherwings lil baby teo, Chimney Swift Chimney Swift CAPTAIN HOOK, neverbackdown neverbackdown gorgeous gorgeous kenzie, doedeer doedeer greaser


jimmy tran




/* ------ right side ------ */

Bruh… who freaking knew the turnout would be THIS massive???

Jimmy was getting a little nervous. As soon as he high-fives 2/∞ of his favorite boys, Alex and Teo, more people start trickling down to this secret spot. It wasn’t meant to be a party, but it’s fine, he likes parties. But the thing was... the challenge he was about to pull off was insanely dangerous. Jimmy didn’t make enough liability forms!! HE CAN’T GET SUED BEFORE HE MAKES IT BIG!!!!

Unless… he gets on the news for doing some really awesome stunt that goes viral…?

No, he can’t. He doesn’t have enough of his weed money to bail himself out of jail. Oh geez, this was becoming slightly nerve-wracking.

With frantic shouts, Jimmy ordered Alex and Teo to set up the various cameras to capture different angles on the beach. He was planning on making a collage of some sort for his bottle rocket challenge. By the time the whole setup was done, there were more people than before. Greaser and his lovely and majestic girlfriend Kenzie finally were able to make it.

Oh boy, this is a lot of people.

Jimmy took a nervous gulp and was about to head to the cooler with all the fun and boppin’ drinks until somebody played Green Day. Who the fuck chose Green Day as a boo to listen to before the greatest challenge of the summer? Still extremely frantic, Jimmy dove his hand in his pocket to grab out his potentially most likely stolen iPhone and switched the song to the best meme-tastic and possibly the start of a Hallyu wave in good ol’ Joplin: Gangnam Style.

The tiny speaker started to wobble a bit on top of the cooler as it blasted fun and eccentric K-Pop music sung by PSY, the legendary Korean man. Now that Jimmy’s veins were pumped by adrenaline, excitement, and K-Pop, he must kick the extra guests out of the party because they haven’t signed a liability waiver. Jimmy got on top of the ice cooler and grabbed out his handy dandy megaphone (something he forgot he brought), and shouted, “YO YO YO! MY PEEPS!”

The partygoers were all hushed to silence as some covered their while others turned to look at the star of the show. Jimmy cleared his throat, “Y’all, I am so STOKED for this party, but most of you guys haven’t signed a waiver, so you’ll have to leave!” he chuckled nervously and then added, “But don’t worry, my beautiful Jimmies, I’ll call you back, and I WILL MAKE THIS PARTY LIVESTREAMED AND SHIT!”

With a loud whooping and hollering by the uninvited guests, they unbelievably did what they were told. It almost brought Jimmy to tears. Who knew after all his hard work and grit would gift him some of the most devoted and kindest fans. Jimmy cleared his throat and handed the boys and Kenzie random bottle rockets. “Alrighty, friends of mine, literally just stick them in the ground somehow and light them when I count down from five.”

Did Jimmy know what he was doing?

Nah, not really.

But did anyone who created a viral video know what they were doing?

Pfft... no.

And so, he watched all his friends scatter over the beach and somehow stick their bottle rockets on the ground. Some bottle rockets couldn’t stand up straight on the ground, so Jimmy watched Teo, and Alex wet some sand and mold it around the stick. Drew and Kenzie decided to copy the other boys, and Jimmy ended up doing it too. Luckily the bottle rockets seemed to stand their ground, and then Jimmy grabbed his megaphone, “ALRIGHT FRIENDS, LET’S LIGHT THESE SUCKERS ON FIRE!”

Jimmy started the countdown, and once he ended at zero, Team Bottle Rocket lit their fireworks with a match. As they watched their bottle rockets, Jimmy heard a sploot. Right next to him was the bottle rocket lying in the sand aiming at Alex. Then there was another sploot, then another…. Then… another.

Jimmy’s eyes widened in horror and amusement.

“EVERYBODY TAKE FUCKING COVER.” He screeched as he started running to god knows where.

And just like that, the rockets zoomed and exploded literally everywhere. Jimmy prayed to any god or supernatural being that was witnessing this catastrophic mess that none of his friends were hurt. ‘Cuz y’know, #homies4life.

Well, anyways… today was the day Jimmy learned why bottle rockets were called “Bottle Rockets.”



/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 



Jane Anaise Müller






♫ svetа - можеt да, может неt ♫
mood: happy, eager, curious
outfit: click
location: the waterfront boardwalk
interactions: stella dear.szmm dear.szmm ren erzulie erzulie rat Gao Gao
mentions: n/a
her sculpture (left by the trash can on the boardwalk): click
her heart-shaped box: click

jane watched contently as her friend took bites of the meatless tamale, then adeptly snuck a small bite in–one that her friend would allow her to have. in their concurrent indulgence, stella’s eyes shifted to the twin houses still resting in jane’s arms. the art piece, more reclined at her forearms–a result of the girl carrying them for quite some time now. it was another reminder that she ought to start actually working out. the yoga sessions and strolls around her neighborhood clearly ineffective, no matter how much she’d argue her strength if anyone asked. at the mention of the inevitable disposal of her art, jane met stella’s motion over to the trash cans across the boarded pier.

like a lightbulb going off in her brain, she beamed in that moment–taking in the dying light barely peaking out behind the waters. stella was right! how fitting of a parting between her and her sons than such a picturesque sight.

dramatic as always, jane would run these romanticized thoughts through her head as her friend spoke. in reality it was just a trash can. filled with trash. on a trashy boardwalk, lively today and dead tomorrow like any other day. but it didn’t matter, jane never saw things like that.

… it’s perfect.

“it’s perfect!” jane reiterated outloud, “juxtaposition indeed!”

without another moment to spare, she swiftly moved through a small crowd of people and to the spot they’d been eyeing. holding up les maisones jumelles, she’d embrace them with a spirited kiss and crouch over to safely set them down. “goodbye.”--with much sincerity, biting the insides of her cheeks softly for a moment to gaze at them one last time.

as her friend followed behind her, she spun around to meet her eyes–childish satisfaction clear upon the dark-haired girl. “and now we are free.”--playfully locking arms with stella to get back through to the boardwalk path.

“let’s walk down the pier more and see if there’s anything fun happening.” she added, leading the two away.

as they walked idly, jane couldn’t help but notice two familiar faces approaching in their view. gorgeously laid orange hair standing besides strands of a whitish blonde–the two, aside from their appearances alone, stood out plainly in the crowd in some sort of..bicker? she squinted a little, eyebrows furrowed. what’s going on over there? a quick glance at stella would tell her that she noticed something too. “it’s ren! and some boy…they look like they’re having quite the time over there..” she jested over her shoulder with a side eye to stella.

“hey! ren!”--now calling out to the redhead as the distance between the two groups minimized.

apart from stella, ren was one of the first people she’d gotten closer with upon her move to joplin. her brash, enthusiastic personality drew a drunken jane to befriend her in a club bathroom. jane had an affinity for the dauntless types, people who were unapologetically themselves and quintessential at it. she herself had trouble with not standing out, it wasn’t something that could be helped. jane also loved the way she dressed, matching passions for different aesthetics like she.

the lanky mess standing in front of them, though, jane didn’t know. although she wasn’t afraid of the eccentricity and towering height, rather–she was inquisitively drawn. as she caught up to the two–stella trailing close behind–she further looked him up and down. then up again, maintaining eye contact through her sunglasses. a tall fellow wasn’t he… her observance drawing a conclusion of european descent. she spent most of her schooling all over the continent but mostly denmark and czech republic–plenty of crushes accumulated from childhood. however she couldn’t really put her finger on it, perhaps due to his obviously strange and otherwise nixxed version of most european boys she had encountered while overseas.

but quite cute actually–well maybe in a skeletal way. if there was such a way jane would be the one to stand behind it.

“i’m jane! who….are YOU?”--with raised brows barely appearing behind her tinted shades words she’d accentuate with a tilt of her head, “ren i’ve never seen you with this boy…let alone a boy…” she added, with a hint of taunt and a tiny chuckle to follow. “well?” she inquired, waiting for someone to appease her curiousity.


code: @s e v e n
 
MOOD: Happy, excited, nervous

OUTFIT: These blacks don't match

LOCATION: The pier
basics
MENTIONS:


INT:

Josephine tamarapasek tamarapasek

tags
TL;DR:
tl;dr
Alexei Milyukov
Chin up and we'll drown a little slower
Glancing at his reflection in a window as he passed by, Alexei couldn't help but pause to poke and prod at his unfortunate hairstyle for the evening. Earlier, Veta had answered his panicked text fretting over how to look presentable for a first date, dutifully showing up to help like the true best friend she was. He now wasn't sure about the overly coiffed result, however, his sandy locks primped and sprayed into a stuffy side part that looked like a cross between some corporate douche and a '50s nerd.

He was a bit dressed up though, so the young man had to admit his usual messy hair just wasn't gonna cut it for the occasion. Though he was really starting to second guess the all-black ensemble he was instructed to wear on this sweltering July eve. And why are all the fashionable clothes so tight nowadays?? Alexei tried to protest that surely one of his "good" t-shirts would suffice, but Veta sagely insisted a more elevated look was the way to go. He didn't wanna look like a schlub next to Josephine in her nice dress, did he? Of course the answer was a resounding no. It was worth it to confidently stroll around with a beautiful woman all dolled up in her prettiest, even if it felt like he might hulk out of his tiny polo shirt at the slightest wrong move.

Alexei swallowed his nerves at his date's door in an attempt to put on a confident facade. Running a hand through his hair one last time before Jo arrived sporting a twirly tea-length dress in virginal white, sleeves adorned with pretty little bows and everything. "Wow, you look...unbelievably gorgeous," The flustered young man managed to affirm, rendered uncharacteristically speechless for the moment; he couldn't have imagined anything more perfect for his innocent fantasy girl to wear.

"Come on, let's see it," Alexei took Jo by the hand, twirling her around to admire the dress in its full princessy glory. He finished by gallantly kissing her hand, then presented the bouquet of white lilies and blush pink roses he was clutching. "Ah, spasibo, princess," He winked, holding up the wallet she in turn handed over before the girl flitted off to find a home for the flowers somewhere in her apartment.

Alexei grinned at Josephine cuddling his arm while they walked, unable to resist nuzzling her silky chocolate waves once or twice to punctuate a flirtatious remark as they chatted. "Never been to the fair before?" He smiled at her question when they paused amidst the bustling fairgrounds, blue eyes glinting with mischief as he chucked the brunette under her chin affectionately.

The couple wandered around for a bit, looking at all the rides and attractions on offer as the sun began to set and the carnival really came alive with bright, flashing lights in all directions. "How's about I win the princess that stuffed animal?" He asked, using his grip on her delicate hand to pull Josephine into his arms and drop a tender kiss upon her forehead.

At the nearest game booth, Alexei tossed around the small basketball from one hand to the other with cocksure confidence until he was ready to try his hand at the game, an easy three-point shot. The ball sailed out of his grasp with the perfect throw and--airball. Still smiling despite his annoyance, he caught the ball again for another throw, then another, until all his throws were used up.

"Yo, chief, I think your game is rigged," Alexei joked after his ninth throw, the crusty-looking clod at the booth half-heartedly shrugging in response. It was either that or these awful clothes fucking with his mojo. That was the only logical reason for why he couldn't sink a simple free throw all of a sudden. And yet he couldn't walk away now; Josephine didnt have a prize and he needed to prove he was a decent athlete. It was the principle at this point.

"Alright, those were warm-ups. I got this. One more go," Alexei assured his date with a mirthless chuckle to hide his annoyance, but the irritated way he slammed his money on the counter told a different story. Sure enough, the first two tries bounced off the backboard. Muttering a string of Russian profanities under his breath, so pissed he lobbed the third one carelessly just to get the stupid ball away from him and...actually got it through the hoop.

"WOO! HELL yeah!" He whooped and clapped, turning to curl and arm around Jo. And without thinking, dipped her backwards to lay a brief but enthusiastic kiss on her. Her lips were so intoxicating, Alexei forgot all about the game for the moment, his only clear thought was the overwhelming desire for more kisses. He quickly leaned in for a deeper kiss followed by a series of quick smooches as if he just couldn't bear to let her lips part from his. Then chuckled adoringly as they finally came up for air, giving her nose a playful nuzzle with his own.

"Sir? SIR." The booth attendant's voice brought him back to reality, having no idea how long the guy was trying to get his attention for, or just how long they'd been canoodling. "Here's your prize," The gruff fellow mumbled tersely, and instead of a cuddly teddy bear, unceremoniously shoved a clear plastic box in his hands. Alexei held it up to gaze bewildered at the living creature inside, a tiny green lizard staring back out at him. After a few moments of puzzled gawking at the critter he opened his mouth to protest but the only sentiment he could formulate was a laugh at the absurdity of this prize, genly thrusting the box at Josephine with a shake of his head.

"Hold this. Come on. We're winning you a stuffed animal, damn it," Alexei declared resolutely, grabbing Jo's hand to pull her along after him.
code by valen t.
 


















scroll
















The Rebel






Kenzie


























mood


Highly amused






















outfit


https://i.pinimg.com/736x/f9/90/6d/f9906d04ad790dd0f82f20b0d5d49187--effy-stonem-style-skins-uk.jpg






















location


Beach






















interactions


Drewi, jmmy, Alex and Theo





















tags


Chimney Swift Chimney Swift sunnieside sunnieside weldherwings weldherwings doedeer doedeer































Kenzie watched with an amused smirk playing on her lips as Jimmy began to bark orders at Theo and Alex, he was playing it off well but Kenzie could tell how frantic he was getting. The nerves were beginning to hit him and it was only now she realised how dangerous this experiment could become. Not that she minded, the more dangerous the better in her opinion.

When Jimmy addressed the crowd, Kenzie took a sip of her drink and turned to watch, her eyes widening the smallest amount when everyone actually left, she knows she wouldn't have listened so was surprised that there didn't even seem to be an argument about it. She raised her eyebrows as she turned to face her friends, clearly impressed with Jimmy's ability to move the crowd, they obviously respected him and why wouldn't they? Jimmy was a people person, he had a way with them and everyone seemed to just flock to him. She snapped from her thoughts when Jimmy began to hand out the bottle rockets. She took one in her hand and looked at it, twirling it around in her fingers as Jimmy gave his instructions. Giving a salute, Kenzie nodded before moving back on the beach so there was ample room between them and also she knew that Jimmy's plan was to have them coming from different angles.

Kenzie knelt on the ground and began trying to force the rocket into the sand. She found this to be a difficult task with the sand almost too soft to hold it up straight, getting frustrated at how it kept falling, Kenzie scanned the area to see how her friends were getting on with the task at hand. Her eyes landed on Theo and Alex as they seemed to be wetting the sand and she pouted her lips slightly in thought before deciding to do the same. Once the rocket remained standing on its own, Kenzie leaned back on her heels and picked up her cup, placing it to her lips and finishing the drink as she admired her handywork. Her eyes fell on Drew and once the eye contact was returned, she winked at him with her signature smirk present on her lips.

It was all going so well, you could feel the excitement bubbling within the group as Jimmy gave the countdown. The sound of matches igniting simultaneously filled the air as everyone lit their fuse. Stepping back in unison for when the rockets went off, it was almost like a movie scene and like in all good movie scenes with dangerous ideas it all turned rather quickly. Her eyes widened as she heard the sound of something hitting sand and her head shot around to see the rockets falling onto their side one by one. Her gaze was transfixed on the one that was now facing her, her mind unable to figure out if it was greatly amused or terrified at what was now happening. "Oh shiii...." Kenzie's words were cut off as the short fuze had now burned out and the rockets were beginning to take flight, without a second thought she broke into a run trying to get to the safety of the sand dunes. A loud and unsettling sound gaining on her made Kenzie turn her head to see what was happening and her eyes widened when she realised a rocket was coming very quickly towards her head. Without so much of a thought, Kenzie dived on to the ground, she felt her face skim of something sharp as she landed but she ignored it lying flat on her belly with her face in the sand, she had just gotten her hands over the back of her head when she heard the rocket explode above her. She felt bits of ash land on her hands and shoulders but they sizzled out before causing any real damage to her. Kenzie lay there, on her stomach with her hands over her head until it seemed that the chaos had died down. After what felt like hours but was probably only a minute or two the beach was once again quiet and still. She closed her eyes and could almost forget the chaos that had just erupted around them.

Cautiously, Kenzie put her hands down before carefully standing up. Realising she had somehow ended up beside the cooler, she smirked to herself as she opened it up and took out the vodka taking a long swig as she tried to calm her shaking hands. "Well that was ... eventful" she laughed.

Adrenaline was still pumping through her blood as her body shook and it felt like her heart was beating so fast it could rip out of her chest any second, an amused smirk played on her lips, completely unaware of the gash on her cheek going from just below her eye to her chin or the blood running down her face, the adrenaline in her body was currently too high to feel any pain.

"Is everyone ok?" She asked finally plucking up the courage to look around at the damage. Her mind had been so focused on herself and the bottle rockets that she had not given much thought to if her friends were ok.






♡coded by uxie♡
 







cooper attenborough



  • .





Reuben leaned against the metal guardrails and he looked casual but everybody could sense the tension between the two. Cooper found Reuben a big hypocrite, the way he could turn on you like a snake while at the same time he was acting as if he was doing Joplin a big service, standing there in his cheap uniform.

His pursed lips turned into a foul smirk and Cooper repositioned himself quickly, standing up a little taller. To look more intimidating? Maybe.
Pal? Close call? He felt his blood boiling with each word Reuben spoke.
He knew who he was talking, right? Cooper Attenborough. One of the greatest street fighters in Joplin and this under minimal wage cop was talking to him like he was just some riff-raff kid from the streets. Before he would act on impulse, he looked down the pier as he gently touched his fresh black eye, another good reminder that he would absolutely triumph in
Reuben took a cigarette from his pocket and Cooper pried him up and down. Reuben’s hair was a little messier than normal and his uniform crinkled. It looked like he had gotten back from a very trashy but adventurous one night stand.


‘I wouldn’t say it was a. .’ Cooper stopped mid-sentence as he grabbed his own cigarettes, popping one in between his teeth. ‘Close-call.’ Even though Reuben chuckled, Cooper’s face did not move an inch. If anything it was Reuben's fault they ended up in trouble that night after all although the amount of substances he was on that night surely made it difficult to remember any details.
‘Besides, I’m not scared of a little jail time and I’m starting to believe, neither are you.’
His eyes pierced the young man in front of him, Cooper had to take deep breathes not to throw him down the guardrails, right into the pier. Bye Reuben, see you never!
Cooper had to shake the emotions because with guys like these would see right through him.
Of course he was afraid of going to jail and having spend there a maximum of six days, he could confidently share from experience that it wasn’t fun.

‘It’s cash and trust me, it’s a lot.’ Was it too obvious Cooper didn’t have a concrete offer?
‘No bait, although you’d probably be great at it.’ he spoke quietly under his breathe, exhaling the smoke to the side. ‘It’s for safety and we need someone to look the other way, you know. That’s the most important thing,’ he exclaimed before faking a big smile on his face and turning 160 degrees to face the big ferris wheel, full with the lights of America glistering up and down the water.

‘It’s not like my little fight ring could’ve ever gotten me this shiny new watch.’ Cooper turned around, holding his wrist in front of the grumpy young man. The new watch was in fact still very shiny and still very new. Cooper had bought it yesterday from the money he had saved and though he had to endure the black eye, the pain seemed to slowly fade away by the amount of diamonds on his normally naturally tanned skin.

‘So, is it a yes or a no, mr. Officer?’ Cooper smile slowly faded as he ticked his watch to seem in a rush. In fact, the opposite was true and if he didn’t take those five Xanax this morning, his dealer would’ve been the one he’d be talking to right now.
‘I’m sure you have many other important. . Things to do. Like, cleaning up the pier?’ Cooper pointed to the burger wrap to their right and shrugged, his smile in fact didn’t fade at all.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 



Drew Vodianov






♫ all the time - snow strippers ♫
mood: a bit fucked up, amused, slightly concerned
outfit: click (tee now has blood stains)
location: the secret beach spot
interactions: raven Nightmarish Nightmarish kenzie neverbackdown neverbackdown
mentions: jimmy sunnieside sunnieside teo weldherwings weldherwings alex Chimney Swift Chimney Swift
his car of the day: click

“yeah, i know what you mean..” drew replied in between his own gulp of vodka. extra simulants huh… he pondered on whether she was only referring to their shared bottle or more. raven dabbled in party drugs with him relatively frequently and in their past together they’d had some pretty ‘down bad’ moments with substances such as xanax or percocet, but he wasn’t sure if she’d maybe still held onto the ones he’d given her before. he’d shrug it off with one last, callous swig of the bottle. there wasn’t really a point in questioning her. she knew how to take of herself. it was just the subtle protective instinct drew got over anyone he cared about when it came to drug use. after all, he’d been in the hard business for awhile now. priding himself in the authenticity of his products, ethical–if you will. he wasn't really one to talk about substance abuse though.

"What if this all even about? I saw the texts in the group chat about some sort of vine thing or something? My followers would go crazy if they knew I was here."​

“umm.. to be honest i have no idea. jimmy called me about it last night, but i was a little too fucked up to make it out,” he answered with a raspy chuckle, “some sort of stunt i think? for the vine. or whatever. hah.”

he gratefully accepted the hand-rolled joint, taking a deep inhale with his fist balled upon his chest to suppress any approaching cough–something comical he’d usually do with a first hit of anything. 'hold it in for as long as you can, even if you cough. builds strong lungs'--as he’d say. usually it just made raven laugh.

they’d talk over their smoke for a little. about random, stupid stuff. catching up on what things were happening over both their summer vacations. saturn. social media. her family. he knew she probably didn’t want to talk about her adoptive parents so mostly just about his older friend allister who happened to be her cousin.

in their bout, drew hadn’t even remembered he was supposed to be with the boys helping with the entire reason behind this affair.

caught up in their conversation with much enthusiasm–”bro and then AFTER, one of your followers slid into my dms and was like–”

suddenly as the music took a veering switch to the latest viral craze song by that one korean dude, drew turned looking over to where the speaker was. jimmy, the dude looking frantic and unhinged as ever, commanded for everyone to temporarily move the party over behind the boulders while he conducted his own viral craze.

with drew's eyes still wavered in the direction of the shore, “ah.. that’s right. it’s some ....rocket thing.” drew grinned sheepishly–eyes back over to raven as everyone started their party’s drunken deviation over behind the rocks, “i remember now–it’s some fireworks--rocket thingy he’s setting off for a video.’” he reiterated more confidently this time. phew.. this shit's really hitting me.

as he said this he could feel the alcohol really kicking in now, “you could, uh.. stay on this side, you know, i mean everyone’s just moving over there until it’s over with. plus it might be best if you and saturn at least kick back away from the shore–never know with this crazy dude.”

he crouched down on one knee to offer head pats to saturn, “ill meet back up with you after it’s over i swear.”

he’d quickly be called over to join the boys and kenzie on the shore. with that, he ran with a stumble to where they were. speeding into a messy stop, kicking sand everywhere, he couldn’t help but laugh. what the fuck were they doing?

he’d playfully push kenzie over as she tried to imitate the other boys’ directions, shooting her a look of inhebriated amusement. she’d return it with a wink and smirk per usual.

those four, five, six? shots were near slamming him at this point–that brief, intense feeling you got before you sobered up a little to take on even more alcohol, but in this case he was nearly falling over trying to stand the rocket on it’s own. as he lit the end on command and stepped back, he’d lean over into kenzie’s ear in a half whisper, “you’d look sexy with that rocket between your–”

"Oh shiii...."​

the next couple moments were a total blur for drew. kenzie would tug on his shirt practically dragging him as she ran and dove into the sand--explosion after explosion going off. drew couldn’t help but give near-howling rips of laughter throughout the entire ordeal. he was still holding his stomach with his back pressed against the sand–laughing at the entire thing while everyone kept their hands on their head.

he’d be the first to sit up and flash a brazen grin and a thumbs up at a, probably wide-eyed raven standing as far as possible from the situation while saturn offered some barks at the noise. the rest of the people behind the rocks–and some who’d snuck in over them to see the affair–cheered loudly.

kenzie finally stood up–vodka already in hand–and looked around at the others. when she’d turned over to meet eyes with drew, he’d immediately stand up. his expression–a mix of lingering amusement and regard for his girlfriend. blood trickled down from her eye to her jaw and at the sight of it, drew’s voice would momentarily change.

“jesus kenz, you’re bleeding.”--the raspiness in his voice deepening with concern as he pressed his hand on her cheek, gentle–as to not directly touch the open wound below her eye. without a second thought, drew quickly threw his shirt off, using the inside to wipe around it. luckily the wound wasn’t long, but it was minorly deep–hence the amount of blood coming from it. it probably wouldn’t require stitches though..well, not like she’d go to the bloody hospital for something like this anyway.

as he finished, he met her blue eyes peering into his--giving him a moment of clarity away from his instinctive worry. she probably thought he looked stupid doctoring her up like this in front of everyone, but in the moment he couldn't really help it. he stepped back, clearing his throat--t-shirt littered with spots of blood clutched in his fist.

soon the people's boisterous movement entered the scene with hollers and praises. the groups hovering over towards jimmy and over to the cooler--eager to continue the party.

code: @s e v e n
 
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teo choi



  • .



As the tune of one of the most historic pieces of music masterpieces filled the air, a wide grin spread across Teo’s face. The party crashers were beginning to file out, and so it was just the selected few to get this really going. As Jimmy was ushering them away, Teo continued to fiddle with the camera he was positioning, singing along to the song in a hush tone. He was trying so very hard not to spontaneously burst out in song and dance because this song was a jam.

Once the fans has gone off on their way, and the cameras were set up, Jimmy then instructed them with setting up the bottle rockets. If truth be told, that really wasn’t the smartest thing for Jimmy to do. It was almost like he had never met Teo before in his life. The boy could barely figure out which key opened his windows, and which one was for the front door of his apartment complex. And here he was, being trusted to set up a bottle rocket? Well… I suppose Jimmy must’ve trusted him or something. Teo simply shrugged it off, taking hold of the rockets and following the instructions given to him.

Gathering the wet sand, Teo buried the stick the rocket stood on and – I tell you what. He was damn proud of himself that he didn’t screw anything up. Well, that would soon change. Teo stood back from the rockets in preparation for their glorious flight. Jimmy started the countdown; 3… 2… 1. The rockets were ignited and it was only a matter of seconds before… wait. The rockets became victims of gravity, being pulled from their positions and leaning over. Before he could even process what was happening, he heard Jimmy’s cries to take cover. To take… what?

Was he still drunk from last night? Or maybe even a little bit high? Because it took a grand total of ten seconds from hearing what Jimmy had to say for it to finally rattle in his little brain of his and make any sense. Teo fell to the ground, placing his hands on his head and covering his face with the sand beneath him. The chaos that had ensued around him began to die with the remaining bottle rocket fizzling out. Popping his head up like a fearless meerkat, Teo observed his surroundings. It seemed that everyone was… ok? He heard someone nearby make mention of someone bleeding. Oh geez, could bottle rockets really make that much of a mess? If that person was bleeding maybe they’d need to go and get medical attention… Maybe they’d need to go to a hospital. And maybe… they’d need pain relief.

Pain relief.

And then Teo thought of an idea.
Teo thought of an awful idea.
Teo thought of a wonderfully, awful idea.

It was time to get his acting skills out.

“Ah!” he dramatically cried out, sitting up in the sand and cradling his left wrist with his right hand. He rocked back and forth, cradling his ‘poor’ wrist; and almost forgetting for a split second which one he had designated to play the victim. “Oh no! Ahh! My wrist! Can someone come and look at it? Oh my gosh… it hurts so much!”

Someone give this guy an Oscar.







/* ------ credit -- do not remove ------ */

© weldherwings.
 
MOOD: Chill

OUTFIT:  Yes and the socks

LOCATION: Chalamet building
basics
MENTIONS:

INT:
Ashley tamarapasek tamarapasek

Oliver Chimney Swift Chimney Swift

Charlie doedeer doedeer


tags
TL;DR:
tl;dr
Dustin Thackery
All the best people have gone mad
Dustin skated around the small group as they walked together. His brow furrowing at Oliver's obvious distress with Chrissy poking fun at his appearance. "Can it, Dobby, or you're getting sent back to the Molfoy's," The boy snapped at his younger sister, who just snickered in response but obediently left Oli alone to mumble to himself.

Her attention was now captured by Charlie anyway, delighted that another older kid wanted to pay her any attention. "We're gonna go swimming! And and and then go to the fair later! And watch the fireworks!" The little girl chattered on happily, skipping alongside the older girl. "Oh and Charlie! Do you wanna know the secret handshake?" Chrissy grinned, pausing to show Charlie the first few moves. "Only girls are allowed to know it," She giggled, shooting Dustin a sly glance, who just rolled his eyes playfully.

"Wow, this is bullshit," Dustin huffed indignantly, shaking his head. "Come on, Oli, we'll make our own stupid secret handshake." He insisted, skating up beside Oli as the other boy paused now that the girls had stopped walking for the moment. Though he was quickly distracted by Ashley's zombie talk to attempt to come up with anything. "Oh no way," Dustin insisted matter-of-factly to challenge Ashley's opinion instead of backing her up, as requested. "That's a terrible idea. The world would be overrun with zombies if you couldn't kill those fuckers!"

code by valen t.
 






Alex




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Guster



Satellite










Alex, famously slow on the uptake as ever, was still standing staring at the hissing, sputtering rockets when they erupted like miniature bombs.

Alex took one chunk of flaming debris square in the chest before he had even processed what was going on. The impact threw him backward onto the sand like a ragdoll. He gasped so hard he almost started to gag. His vision filled with blurry spots, but quickly cleared up a few seconds of hyperventilation later. He was winded, but unhurt. A little sore where he’d been clocked by a chunk of burning plastic, but able to pull himself back up and dust the sand off his favorite t-shirt with ease.

“Is everyone okay?? My ARM fell off, but we’re all good, man, right?”


Alex wasn’t lying about the arm. His prosthetic arm had twisted free of its fastenings and now lay limply a few feet away from him. What remained of his right arm, cut off at the elbow, was left unaided as he ran around checking on all his friends. Kenzie had a red gash on her cheek that looked painful but not life-threatening. Alex offered her a hug, partially to comfort her and partially to distract himself from the very shirtless Drew next to him.

Just then, as he was fighting off the urge to say something regrettable about Drew’s baby-soft skin, he heard Teo whimpering behind him.
Something sounded very serious.

“Oh shit. Hold up--”


He awkwardly patted Kenzie on the shoulder and took off sprinting to his injured teammate. All of a sudden, the Vine recording had been long forgotten and Alex’s lost prosthetic seemed to be the least of anyone’s worries (though the arm was still forgotten in the sand, as his short attention span had already paddled away in other directions.)

Before he even got all the way over to Teo, Alex knew something was wrong. He crouched beside the obviously agonized friend, arm around his shoulders and trying to get him to look at his face.

“Oh no. Bro, bro bro bro bro– are you okay!?!?”


Stupid question. Teo was very obviously not okay. Alex hadn’t seen someone so incredibly not okay in a long time. Something about Teo writhing and weakly clutching his wrist instantly started to send Alex’s mind back to places it desperately didn’t want to go… a certain roadside, surrounded by snow and broken glass windows…

Alex had turned a bit pale. He shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed for a second to purge the thoughts.
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
Not thinking about that right now.

“We can get you to the hospital, man. JIMMY! Bro, you got a car or something? A bicycle? No no, we can just carry you, dude. Hang on. Everything is gonna be oookay…”







♡coded by uxie♡
 






Oliver




filler



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  • home (filler tab)



































Todrick Hall



Painting in the Rain











Sensing his discomfort, Ashley strode up to Oliver to try to lighten Chrissy’s comments with some playful banter about zombies. Oliver only squirmed, saying nothing. Even Ashley couldn’t disagree with Chrissy that Oliver wouldn’t look out of place in a morgue.
He knew it was true, anyway. The last time he fell asleep in class accidentally, the teacher freaked out and tried to take his pulse.

As much as he wished this conversation would end here and never ever get brought up again, Oliver just didn’t have it in him to tell her to knock it off. These were his friends, and he knew that they would never go out of their way to hurt his feelings. Besides, he’d grown accustomed to this over the years. This was just how they were, and honestly, he didn’t mind so much. Being friends with Dustin, Ashley, and Charlie was worth taking all the weird jokes that he didn't understand in stride.

Still, his mother had been right to tell him to cover his arms under a hoodie despite the nauseating heat. If they knew he was not only pale as the grave but also covered in bruises and bite marks, he was sure that he’d never hear the end of this. Admitting his mother was right about something twisted his stomach.

The group had stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk while Chrissy and Charlie shared in Ashley’s secret Girl Handshake. Finally, thought Oliver, they were moving on to a different topic of conversation.
“Wow, this is bullshit,” Dustin scoffed beside Oliver, skidding to a halt on his skateboard to talk to the only other boy in the gang. Oliver blinked, unsure of what Dustin was talking about at first. The heat? Having to escort Chrissy to her friend's place?
"Come on, Oli, we'll make our own stupid secret handshake."
Oliver nodded, considering. He looked off to the side for a moment before outstretching one of his hands to Dustin.
““M-maybe something like this… uh, o-or we ca… we c–c-could just….”
He started, earnestly ready to choreograph a secret handshake for him and Dustin to rival the girls' one, but by the time Oliver was a few steps in, it seemed that Dustin had already forgotten and was now debating Ashley’s zombie comments. Oliver was left stammering to himself, unsure whether to keep thinking up the handshake by himself or not. Had that been a joke, too?

Oliver felt a bit left behind in the confusion. It always seemed like by the time he understood what was going on, the conversation was already 3 topics ahead of where he last knew. He was aware that his ability to discern jokes from serious commentary was diminished, but he didn't know how to fix it. Nothing felt worse than knowing there was a problem without being able to do anything about it.

Either way, his two neighbor-friends were now head-to-head in a gripping debate about the undead.
Right. Because Oliver looked dead.







♡coded by uxie♡
 



Charlie Vodianova







♫ fineshrine - purity ring ♫
mood: eager, a bit anxious, happy
outfit: click
location: the chalamet building
interactions: ash ( tamarapasek tamarapasek )
oli ( Chimney Swift Chimney Swift )
dustin Qwertycakes Qwertycakes
mentions: n/a

she’d look back at dustin over her shoulder at his snide remarks, flashing a shy smile to show her amusement over his dobby joke. charlie remembered when drew and her would bicker back and forth as children–more like drew making her cry since she could never help being sensitive with no talent for rebuttal at that age. surely it was a lot different having a sibling much younger than her own’s two-year disparity from her–in some ways, perhaps it was even more fun for dustin. it was easy to poke fun at a six year old. and in contrast to a younger charlie, chrissy definitely seemed zippy enough to have her own ways of firing back.

charlie happily allowed dustin’s sister to continue her prattle as much as she wanted. charlie wasn’t much of a talker anyway and chrissy was full of bursting energy that lit up the entire walk out of the building and down the concrete road.

"Oh and Charlie! Do you wanna know the secret handshake?"
–and with no time in between for the girl to answer,
"Only girls are allowed to know it,"

chrissy reached over to show her the handshake, wobbling every so often in the multitask of handshake and walk–charlie suppressing her giggles in their attempts. she’d glance over at ashley and dustin as they exchanged opinions over the circumstances of a zombie apocalypse.

it didn’t make sense that there would be an inability to kill a zombie as it still had a brain, and the infection in the brain was what made zombies–zombies, so killing the brain = killing the zombie. simple. or well.. zombies weren’t real nor would they ever be. i mean–duh. oh, but it would it be so bad to live in a zombie apocalypse? maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. oh.. no..it would be pretty terrible…you’re thinking too hard charlie, quit it!

she snapped out of it–an inquisitive chrissy now looking up at her in the midst of their handshake that charlie had mindlessly been partaking in during her space-out. “oh, swimming–fair–and fireworks. that sounds cool.” she replied, a slightly conciliatory grin flashed on her face.

finally she’d decide what to offer for her two inharmonious friends, “the real question is… would there be zombie animals. and even more importantly… zombie turtles.” she said with amused suspense in her voice, not even needing to look at oliver who was stammering close behind dustin. he’d definitely have something to say about this. the key word turtle would send signals to oli’s brain faster than the speed of light.



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Weather warning!

A weather warning is in place for Joplin






Notes

Bible study
Starts at 5pm at the Kingdom Hall

Shopping list
Get shit before storm comes







18th July 2013

Dark clouds swiftly roll over the Puget Sound horizon, casting the once-peaceful midsummer afternoon under an ominous shadow.

Within minutes, the city is under attack by howling winds and slashing sheets of torrential rain. Seawater surges over the docks, and low-level buildings and apartments close to the harbor are quickly overwhelmed by the rising water, forcing many to flee for higher ground and pray their homes aren't decimated by mold and debris when the storm passes.

The Waterfront District must be almost fully evacuated. Further downtown and in the industrial district, the ground floors and basement levels of most buildings are completely flooded out, including the infamously rickety Chalamet Building apartment complex. Even Foxglove Heights, the safest neighborhood nestled atop the hills, is not entirely safe from the widespread damage.

A city electrical generator is struck by lightning, several powerlines are felled by the wind, and Joplin is plunged into a citywide blackout. Anyone relying on AC, lights, anything... it's all gone and there is still yet no word on when the power will return. Knowing Joplin's less-than-excellent city infrastructure, it may be days from now.

The storm is far from over-- the rain is still barreling down, sharp cracks of thunder ring out overhead, and the roads are impassable with over a foot of coursing flood water, yet many are already taking advantage of the chaos. Several lootings are reported at stores across the city, buildings are vandalized and broken into, and at least one electrical fire occurs in the early hours of the evening. So far, no serious injuries or deaths have been made known, but at the rate things are going, it seems it would be nearly inevitable.

Nothing can be done but to hold out until the storm passes. The best course of action would be to band together with your neighbors and try to make resources last... or perhaps you'd instead go out on your own and take what you can while the cops' hands are tied...
.




Joplin News

A Joplin man was arrested Tuesday afternoon for allegedly hurling human feces at nearby civilians. Authorities advise anybody involved to quarantine and contact health services immediately.






Joplin

70°



Stormy
81 / 60° F




Breaking news


Hurricane Karen
Residents of Joplin are preparing for what scientists believe to be the worst ... read more





marfgin:
Marsha J. Clark High School's production!

auditions opening soon!



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I-SPIT-AT-COPS



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Never one for sentimentality, Ren reckoned there wouldn’t be much nostalgia coming back to Joplin.

Air that tasted like the apocalypse, cold and acidic on lashes. Eyes half-lidded and temple leaned against the bus window, the heartsick— heatsick?, was soothed by its opium cold. Gorged on fogged glass with atlas-weight pressure waterlogging his skull, July 18th had snared Ren’s senses with illness.

Throat lodged with razors and breath tainted rust, stirring from casket slumber only to find bones plagued with unfamiliar ache: this was it.

The karma for all his “your mom” jokes.

He was dying.

Left in a state of confused woe, bird-nest hair, hollow head and sickly waxen skin— a ghostly pretence that earned an uncountable “you look like shit” in the past 24 hours. Sheer drops in the velvet dark of his eyes, black soot suns reduced to rheum ash.

It was subtle movement not of his own that drew Funai Ren from fatigue. A slow turn of evil attitude to attack whoever had disturbed the sickly haze, “what do-”

Air caught the lining of his throat, collapsing lungs in a vice-grip of fear. Flinching low in his large jacket, panicked eyes staring over the collar; uncomfortable eternity with an imposing arrival far out of his aptitude.

A child.

Ham-fists secured tight around a lock of hair that hovered dangerously near its drooling mouth. Round empty irises ogled from beneath a pink knitted beanie, daring— taunting Ren to try and fight fetus-beast fate.

“Don’t.” Soft as butter, quiet as air, the warning held as much weight as his confidence. “Don’t do this to me.” A pathetic plea succumbed to the tyranny of a single toddler. “Please I–”

The child put the lock of hair in its mouth.

Why! A noise choked its way upwards as a splintered cry of despair; Ren’s poor attempt at stifling fear and disgust. With his lips pulled up in an expression so heinous, it would not be hard to imagine the male crumbling into a sobbing mess.

“My hair,“ he mourned in a teary whisper, “give it back.”

The child did not.


On a kitchen floor eating handfuls of cereal like a woodchipper, followed by formidable chasers of Nyquil shots. This? This was a low point.

How the hell did he get here.

He recalled asphalt, clash of warm skin to cold air and wet pooling in his shoes. Pelted by wind and rain and fuelled by coals of illness-induced haze, survival instinct rang a corrupt psalm:

Do it.

Break into someone’s home.

Sickly confusion pulled him up and through a window with a quiet strain of: “my bones.” Body dragged over the ledge and into the dark premises, hair saturated and holding an eerie resemblance to the girl from The Ring; a drenched, haunting thing as he clambered inside. Narrowly avoiding an early death by slipping into the bathtub, chill-burned hands rustled through the bathroom cabinet to find painkillers and— hello.

A bottle plastered “COLD & FLU”, the very saviour of his wretched state. Pocketing the remedy and blotting carpet with rainwater on his detour to the kitchen, a box of cereal was next to find kleptomaniac fingers. Seated on the enamel floor with his items, scooping Lucky Charms into mouth like a half-starved animal followed by swigs of Nyquil; survival of the fittest was a challenge he’d conquer.

By reasonable logic, if you drink all the medicine at once it will cure you instantly.

It worked.

For a short while.

By the time he’d eaten most of the cereal and downed Nyquil over numbed taste-buds, the pain had eased, a salty-brine mind smoothed into pillow-soft fog. Laziness fervid to spine, comfortably slumped on the kitchen floor in sleepy contentment until–

A noise.

He stopped chewing, chest seized with panic and slates of ice spidering through veins. Remaining pressed against the oven with the box of Lucky Charms hugged close, doom cloyed thick; he was not alone.

The obvious answer to a mind poisoned with drugged paranoia was a simple one.

A murderer was here.

“Oh shit,” he whispered, fighting off-set balance as he scrambled across the floor, “oh fuck oh sh-”

No doubt, more sounds of movement signalled from beyond Ren's hiding spot.

“Hey,” a timid greeting for the intruder, “hey, nice new friend.” He was going to die. They were going to chop him up. “My buddy. My– my kind pal.” Obsidian iris slowly peered over the kitchen island, reeking with apprehension: jaw tense, brows pinched, eyes round.

“Watcha doing out there? You cold?” Nervousness glued molasses-thick to each syllable, as did the unmistakable drawl that he was not entirely sober. Half disconnected from a mist-riddled mind to feather-light body, he was ready to throw up and go to sleep.

“Listen, listen,” he swallowed with difficulty. “I don’t want it to be this way, I’m a lover not a fighter. But,” a hand wrapped around a wooden spoon for defence, “I’ve seen Karate Kid, I know what I’m doing.”

He did not know what he was doing.

“And I can see shrimp colours, so Toots is gonna back off if they know what's good for them. I'm not letting nobody skin me for a new face-mask, capeesh?"








Ancient and vicious, luscious as dark velvet

it blooms in you, a poppy made of ink.

#hey there murderer #its me ya boy #shots shots sh #fuckfukc ffff fuc #killing is not ok #love not war #help







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The Fighter



Emily













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Emily had been on the early shift in the Diner that morning and had left the house around 6.30am. Her shift was uneventful as the morning shifts always seemed to be but even with the dullness she was still delighted to have a secure and reliable job. It had definitely gotten easier for the Gallaghers since Emmy secured the role as waitress, finally being able to provide constant money into the home. They had always managed between Emmy and James working odd jobs, it wasn't the most glamorous lifestyle but they had enough to eat and that was all the really mattered, once they had food everything else could be worked around.

Emily arrived home at around 1pm from the diner tired but happy to have the full day now to do what she liked. Whilst she hated the early mornings on the breakfast shift, she found she did rather that than having to wait around to go to work in the evenings, at least now the day felt like it was hers to do what she wanted with it. Emily stepped in the door of her house and was greeted to her siblings sitting on the couch, James was watching tv and Kenzie as per usual was on her phone.

"See what Charles did now?" Kenzie said with a roll of her eyes and a smirk present on her lips before showing the phone to both James and Emily. Emily read the content on the newsite Kenzie was currently reading ... a Joplin man was arrested on Tuesday afternoon for allegedly hurling human feces at nearby civilians... "We don't know it was him" Emily began to argue but gave us as James shook his head, an amused look on his face as he reread the post. "It would explain where he's been...". Finding herself unable to argue against that logic, Emmy shrugged and made her way into the kitchen. She needed coffee, although after what she just read she could do with something stronger but it was only 1 pm and she couldn't give out to Kenzie for drinking as much as she does if Emmy started drinking this early around her.

Emily made herself and her siblings a coffee before walking in and placing their cups in front of them on the table. She placed her own down before sitting beside Kenzie and gently grabbing the side of her face to examine the wound. It was pretty much healed up by now and she was just left with a scar on her cheek. It would take another few weeks for it to fade, well that was if it would fade. Emily and James had been sitting in the sitting room having a few drinks and talking about their days when a very drunk Kenzie had stumbled into the house with the open wound on her cheek, a wound that she had allowed to get full of sand and god know whats else while partying. It took a while but she eventually told them what had happened and claimed she was fine but they still forced her to a doctor to see if it needed stitches. Thankfully she only needed butterfly stitches to hold it closed and a plaster for a week.

"So what plans do you both have today?" Emmy asked as she let go of Kenzie face and picked up her mug of coffee before settling back into the couch. James shrugged and confirmed he didn't know yet, attention then turned to Kenzie as she mentioned she was going to a party. "Please just be careful this time Kenz and try not to get an infected cut again" Emmy did not have to look at her sister to know that she smirked and rolled her eyes at Emmy's comment. With that Kenzie made her way upstairs to start getting ready for the party she had later.

Emmy finished her coffee before placing her cup down on the table. She curled up on the couch and took out her phone, scrolling through it to see if anything was happening. She didn't have any plans yet but she definitely didn't want to stay in.





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Max




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The entire first floor of the Chalamet building now had inches of standing water pooling in every room of every unit. The flashlights and candles set up around the Berkowitz family’s shabby abode, the only source of light in the blackout, gave the floodwater an eerie glow.

To 16-year-old Max, curled up on his desk chair (the only piece of furniture he owned that wasn’t soaking up water), this all seemed like the logical conclusion to the terrible year he’d been having. He’d watched his family go from affluent and daydreamy to bitterly exhausted, impoverished, and run into the ground in a matter of months. Their white-picket-fence house in Foxglove Heights had been sold away so they could afford this cramped unit in one of the worst neighborhoods in the whole city.
And now they couldn’t even have that. What little they’d manage to preserve from their old life of comfort and ease was now slowly being eaten up and moldered by the flooding.

Something flickered outside of his closed bedroom door, catching his attention. He carefully scooted his chair across the wet floor to open it, not wanting to ruin his last pair of dry socks.

It was his parents, and a flashlight. “Hey, kiddo...” Both of them looked half-dead of exhaustion, yet every time they greeted him, they managed a warm smile and a hug for their young son.

His father started first, careful and gentle. “We heard online that there’s a place that might still have power. At the very least you’ll be out of the flooding until things clear up.”

Max’s mother handed him a paper route map.
“Take the 87 bus to Assembly Hall. 11 stops. The driver will let you know when you’re there. I called ahead.”

He held the map in his hands without even looking at it enough to realize he was holding it upside-down. All of a sudden Max looked almost sick with worry.

"...I'm going alone?"


His parents glanced awkwardly at each other. “We have to stay here and watch the apartment.” His father signed slowly, almost apologetically, as if he weren’t quite sure of himself. “We’ll watch your plants,” he added hurriedly as he saw his son’s panic-stricken face start to turn red. “We still have that little watering schedule you made. We won’t move anything without letting you know.” His mother nodded, gently ruffling Max’s hair. “This will be over soon. Don’t worry.”

"Fine."

There was something ever insincere about the way Max’s open hand tapped against his chest. ‘Fine.’ He repeated that word so often that it seemed to now mean the opposite of what it was supposed to. ‘Fine,’ coming from him, meant ‘Don’t talk to me about this. I don’t want to admit I’m upset.’


A half-hour later...

As soon as Max stepped off the bus and saw the place, he felt his stomach lurch.
He wasn’t entirely sure what kind of establishment this was, but he had a bad feeling about the place right away.

Something told him he was a little bit out of place here. Even more out of place than usual.

His parents wouldn’t send him somewhere alone where no one knew ASL, right? They wouldn’t throw him to the wolves like that with no easy way to communicate, especially in a citywide weather emergency. Max could speak (though he found it difficult and frustrating) and read lips (though he wasn’t very good at it), but having to rely on those skills put the entire burden of communication on him, which just wasn’t fair, was it? He could also just write things down, he supposed… or well, he could’ve if he’d remembered to bring a notepad and paper.

He’d now been standing awkwardly outside the Kingdom Hall for nearly 2 minutes trying to quell his worries, all the while getting drenched by the rain.
Maybe he should just go inside before anyone thought he was crazy.






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Oliver




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Todrick Hall



Painting in the Rain










As soon as the clock hit 10:30 tonight, Oliver would officially be 15 years old.
As for his last few hours of being 14, though, he had to admit he wasn’t particularly optimistic about them. He'd long since stopped expecting his family to acknowledge his birthdays. That wasn't the problem.
The problem was Hurricane Karen.

The howling storm had kept him up all night, leaving him even more sleep-deprived and on edge than he usually was. He didn't even feel tired anymore, just disoriented and hazy and sick. Worse still, his mother was currently in another one of her frenzies. The Park family was going to be staying with them while the ground floor was flooded out.

While they were to arrive any minute, Oliver was supposed to be cleaning up his closet, as Ashley would be sleeping in there with him for the foreseeable future. There really wasn't much to clean in the tiny space, however. His own things had already been shoved to the corners as much as he could manage, leaving just enough room for a sleeping bag or something on the floor next to his mattress. He'd have offered to let Ashley sleep on the mattress, but something told him that she probably didn't want to. It was old and stained and several of the springs were broken. Oliver himself opted to sleep on the floor by preference some nights.

Just when he thought he could take a break from fussing around in his closet to go to the bathroom, his mother caught up to him and grabbed his shoulders, digging her nails into him like a lion taking down a fleeing antelope.
"Just where do you think you're going!?"
Oliver started to scream, stifling himself by biting down on the side of his palm.
"Look at you! You're not even dressed. What have you been doing all this time!? You've been on your damn phone again, haven't you?? Lying to your fucking teachers and making me look like a--"

The doorbell rang.
“Damn it, go to your room.” she hissed, shoving the boy aside and running to the door.

By the time she opened the door with a courteous flourish, all her fury had disappeared. “John! Oh, hello, welcome in, make yourselves at home. I’m so sorry, I wish I could've cleaned up a bit more for you all..." It was like a switch had flipped in Eileen. The harsh, scalding tone she took with her son had vanished under a veil of fawning sweetness. She even gave the baby a gentle smile and ushered them all in, gesturing for her oldest daughter Bridget to set up the table for two more attendants.

Eileen Dreyfuss normally hated company, though she was an expert hostess. She regularly had her neighbors and coworkers over for coffee, desperate to keep them convinced that the Dreyfusses were a nice normal family, but she only faked her enjoyment of their presence and was always watching the clock for her next opportunity to down a bottle of cheap wine and forget it all.

But John Park was another story entirely. This man got her. They had a connection... one that she didn't even have with her own husband back when Jared Dreyfuss was still around. She was always looking for a reason to spend more time with John. It just so happened that this flood was a perfect opportunity.

Oliver, meanwhile, grabbed his book of turtle facts and shyly retreated to the couch, pretending not to be there at all.







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joshua jones



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“Armageddon is drawing near, children. That is why it’s important to ensure we follow the three P’s; Preparation, personal hygiene and proper behaviour. You wouldn’t want to be left at the end of time and miss out on the paradise Jehovah promised us, right?”

This father’s words echoed in his brain, circling around like a poorly serviced horse carousel. Gazing out the bathroom window, he could see the rain beginning to grow heavier and the wind pushing against the trees. The rattle of the glass didn’t help to calm the nerves jittering in the pit of his stomach. If there was one thing that scared Joshua, it was Armageddon. The thought of standing before Jehovah who knew him inside and out. Jehovah knew all the dark, dirty secrets about him. His fear wasn’t rooted in that, but rather the unshakable guilt that would follow once his parents discovered who he was on the inside when Jehovah shone His light upon him. What if he wasn’t good enough? What if he was left behind while his whole family ascended to paradise with their Saviour?

Now what brought on the absolute trainwreck of thoughts? Well, upon getting ready for bible study, Joshua had placed on some pants. They were his normal, Sunday best dress pants. Nothing new, nothing different about them. However, in the process of walking to the car with his family, and also getting out of the car to enter the Kingdom Hall, he got particularly wet thanks to the ongoing rain. His pants reacted in a way after being soaked, clinging to his figure. His father noticed and began to go off his absolute block about it. Claiming that if the other elders saw, they would call Joshua a homosexual and that this was not how they would properly dress in Jehovah’s Kingdom Hall. This was where his father’s rant ensued, belittling Joshua amid it all for allowing his pants to get in such a state.

He had been told to go into the bathroom and not to return until his pants were completely dry. So, for the last half an hour, there he was; standing next to the hand dryer and attempting to dry off his pants with little heat being produced from the dryer. Oddly enough, it had been working. So much so that he was quite content with the outcome. Well, at least he didn’t have to get the books and chairs ready for tonight. His younger sisters would’ve had to do it. Speaking of younger sisters…

As Joshua exited the bathroom, a quiet excited Mary was hopping past him with a bright grin stretched across her face and sparkle of joy in her eye. He was about to question what was bringing her such delight, but she zoomed right past him as if he was just another fixture or piece of furniture. Curiously, he watched as Mary made her way to the front door of the Assembly Hall and swung the door open with unnecessary force as she exited. Joshua began to slowly shuffle, hoping to get a better look at what his younger sister was doing exactly. That’s when she came in once again but this time was dragging some poor boy along with her.

Oh… Mum and Dad are not going to like this

Mary was what one would describe as ‘boy crazy’. Ever since she was a toddler, she was always gushing about the boys in the neighbourhood. She was often told off at school for trying to get the children to play kiss chasey. It was safe to say that Mr and Mrs Jones were very concerned for his daughter’s wellbeing, and purity. They shoved every single book and video about a woman’s purity down her throat it was incredibly surprising to see it had taken no brainwashing effect on her yet. While she knew that she couldn’t talk to her parents about boys, and they technically weren’t meant to talk to ‘friends’ outside of school, she would often ramble on to her sisters. The walls in their house were paper thin, and every word that fell from his sister’s mouths in their bedroom, he could hear as clear as day as he lay in bed at night. They would squeal about some guy’s long hair, or another boy’s baby blue bedroom eyes. And Joshua was left to lie in bed and endure the gushing.

“Joshua!” Mary called, dragging Max along with her as she directed him towards her older brother. “Joshua, this is Max. He’s in the same year at school as me.”

Max. Oh, Joshua knew about Max. Mary had been talking about him for the last three months. It felt like he had known this boy his whole life, hearing Mary’s little secret crush and her heart’s desire through the walls of the Jones’ residence. But there was one thing that Joshua distinctly remembered about Max; he was deaf. Joshua had caught Mary multiple times practising her sign language in the mirrors around the house. The Jones family are firm believers in eliminating ableism and learning various languages to better communicate with their congregation and society. For that very reason, they were fluent in Korean (thanks to their Mother), Chinese, Spanish and – well, hello. American Sign Language.

“Hi, I’m Joshua” He said in a slow, timid voice as he coordinated his hands to sign to Max. God, he was rusty. It had been a while since he had last practised. “Would you like something warm to drink?”







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mood (:

location pier

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fun fact forgot to pack a pair of beach clothes, but at least she packed some alcohol

tag matt erzulie erzulie


evelyn tran




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Previously on the last skip...

An enigma, huh? Evelyn breathed out and stared out to the sea as she watched the ships sail out into the sea to prep for the fireworks show. She wondered if she was an enigma herself. She always kept to herself, refusing to get close to others. It was just a lot of work to build relationships. Evelyn learned on the internet that as a person ages, they no longer want to invest in creating new friendships. She was probably ignoring that it is due to adults wishing to invest in meaningful relationships with the relationships they already had. For now, she’s just going to say she no longer wants to make friends because of her old, ripe age of 29.

Evelyn quirked a brow at the English teacher’s response about wearing all black for Independence Day. It was like he was dressed for a funeral, grieving about living in the country of the free. She also had her thoughts about this pathetic holiday. This was the holiday that the Vietnam veteran liked to be overly obnoxious about. He also told Evelyn and her mother that they wouldn’t have been able to stay in America if it weren’t for him. Honestly, fuck America. At the same time, she barely knew her Native tongue anymore. So not only does she feel like she doesn’t belong in America, but she also feels reluctant to return to Vietnam and feels out of place there.

It is a bit of a conundrum, but Evelyn wasn’t going to dump all of that on her acquaintance like that. He doesn’t need to know that about her. It’s not his business to know, like, how it wasn’t her business to know about Matt’s personal life.

“Maybe those parents are judging because you look like you’re mourning about living in a shit country like this.” Evelyn joked and took another hit. She realized she was smoking a bit too much. Maybe I’m feeling anxious about something, oh well.

It was nice to have someone be gloomy with her. So, maybe she was brooding at the pier. It’s whatever, though. Evelyn was having a good time listening to the noise and smoking… and oh yes! The lukewarm beers! Evelyn hunted around in her raggedy bag to find her two Bud Lights, and she sighed in relief. She couldn’t believe she had almost forgotten about them. Evelyn finished her smoke and cracked open her beer, “That’s okay. I actually prefer the crowd. And like you said, it’s fun to people watch.”

Evelyn chuckled and agreed to do Matt’s drinking game. The baker was determined to get her head feeling warm and fuzzy so she could go to sleep at a decent time. Evelyn and Matt stared into the crowd and scanned to find an obnoxious, patriotic tourist making a fool out of themselves. There was a group of greasy men covered in red, white, and blue face paint that wore the American flag as a cape while screeching the national anthem. A drunken woman was trying to fight with another person about who knows what. Then there was a family of eight wearing matching patriotic clothing blasting airhorns in the name of America. She and Matt had found many more people together, but by the end, it was all so blurry.

This was it.

This was the feeling Evelyn loved.

It helped numb out everything unnecessary. Evelyn felt light, and the world started to spin. She was surprised she got drunk over two and a half beers. It made sense, though. She hasn’t eaten all day. Evelyn wondered if the fireworks went off or not, but if they did, she couldn’t tell. The crowd was wonderfully loud, and she felt like she was in bliss. With a little nod, “Thanks for hanging out with me, Matt. Hopefully, we’ll catch each other soon?”

Evelyn didn’t mean that. If they see each other again, they see each other again, but accidentally.



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Jodie




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Nothing to see here, thought Jodie, as she soundly ignored the odd stares from the half-drowned pedestrians on the steps and huddling in the windows.
Just a little woman and a giant birdcage staggering down the flooded streets. The cage was almost as big as she was, and she was clearly having a difficult time trying to haul it down the road without letting the precious parrot inside get sloshed with rainwater.

Preston, in contrast, seemed to be having the time of his life, flapping about inside the cage and whistling at passers-by. Nothing could get that old bird in a bad mood. Not even the torrential hurricane Karen. As long as he was having fun, Jodie supposed everything couldn't be that bad.

Jodie had left her old, ailing parents with her aunt Delphine up in Foxglove Heights, and didn’t feel remotely bad about doing so. Delphine was a good woman, and always a good babysitter for her dying sister and brother-in-law. Way better than Jodie ever could be. Why, then, did Aunt Delphine not step up to take care of them herself in the first place? Why did she leave that responsibility to her young niece, depriving her of her high school diploma, college, relationships, a life…?
Scratch that line about Delphine being a good woman. She was a total I'm uncultured.
Regardless, she was willing to do a good deed for the day so Jodie could for once abandon the store and her scummy apartment in search of somewhere with electricity and hopefully some booze, so she supposed she had to thank the old crone just this once.

Jodie knew exactly where she was going: Ren’s place.
Jodie’s friend Ren was a lot of things, and resourceful was definitely one of them. If anyone in this rathole city had sandbags, a generator, and some shelf-stable food, it would be her. Besides, on top of being the most prepared person this side of the West Coast, Ren was also a hell of a lot of fun, especially in disastrous situations.

She arrived in no time, trudging up the stairs of the old apartment complex to the door number that she’d memorized years ago. She shook the rainwater out of her hair and clothes and tried knocking on the door. No answer.

“Open the door, motherfucker…”
She muttered, knocking again with one hand and gently setting the birdcage on the ground with the other.
“OPEN THE DOOR, MOTHERFUCKER!” Screeched the parrot, echoing his human so embarrassingly loudly that Jodie was sure the whole city heard it.
“Shush!” She pleaded in vain with the feathery red monster, who repeated himself even louder. Jodie smacked her forehead with her hand. Well, no point in knocking again. If Ren was alive in there, she heard that.






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