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Realistic or Modern Running Triangles (Closed)

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WolfSol

I just rolled a crit 1 for life...
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[div class=header]Alec Clemson[/div]
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Alec listened quietly as Warren spoke about his grandparents. The mention of his grandfather's request was definitely not news and nowhere near what he considered to be a shocker. For some reason, their friendship founded through stocks gave his grandparents the idea that it was enough of a reason for him to cut corners for them. Granted, he had done just that for his grandfather quite recently, during his last appointment. Thirty-five dollar co-pays were not always feasible, especially when you tacked on the medication that the old man had to take. Even for hardworking farmers, it was quite a big chunk of money to cough up for a single appointment. It wasn't something he should do, help a patient with their medical bills, but it was his money and it wasn't an all time thing. In fact, Warren's grandfather had fought with him on it, tooth and nail, until finally accepting the financial aid.

"His insurance would come for my head if I did that." He laughed in reply before gradually shaking his head when asked about Ashley. It reminded him of this morning's events, and he almost laughed again. "Hm, no, I would have had to take her with me to the office today, and she would've hated that. She'd at the daycare, but I'll let her know you asked for her. I'm sure she'd go crazy over getting to see a sheep in person." Alec couldn't help the grin even as he continued to avoid Teresa Wood's detection. "Remind me again when you're going to see them."

During the conversation, Alec had kept his eyes on the nuisance that was Miss Woods the whole time. That is, until Warren teased him. "I'll personally commit first degree murder if you bring her attention over here." The smile that had come to life for his daughter had quickly simmered into a frown. He knew the man was teasing, but he didn't want to risk it.

"An an ex, of all things... that would be far more simple." He tsked, glaring over his hand at his smirking friend. The glare didn't last long though and it was quickly replaced with a look of uncertainty as he glanced over once again. He caught her in line, waiting behind a familiar head of shaggy hair--Tyler Abernathy. "She'll likely be a legal thorn in my side, if you get my drift," Alec returned his attention on Warren and matched his smirk, "but if you want someone with the ABC's disease, by all means go say hi to her on your own time. I'm sure she also has a case of ABC's lawsuits. It'd be a field-day, no doubt."
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[div class=credit] WolfSol WolfSol Time: 09:10 | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse| Feeling: Neutral| Mentions: Warren ( Life. Life. ) Tyler ( Danoram Danoram )[/div]
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WolfSol

I just rolled a crit 1 for life...
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[div class=header]Stephanie "Steph" Harrison[/div]
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She was on her second cup of tea when she'd looked up just in time to see the short, dainty therapist enter the coffeehouse. Her arrival had been right on time it seemed, as the coffeehouse had finally just started to resettle after having had their morning rush hour. The smaller girl waved, and Steph presented a smile as the girl drew closer.

"Good morning indeed," she greeted, laughing at the usual tone that Emma took on. It was a mystery to her, if Emma ever actually slept, as she'd never asked about it. Did her therapist suffer from insomnia, perhaps narcolepsy? It never seemed too important to know though, and it was just a tad too personal to ask.

Emma sat across from her. The resounding question having nearly been missed as Steph acknowledged yet again their height difference. "Oh, yes, I suppose?" She shrugged. Their last meeting had been during a troubling bit of relapse, one of which she still found herself wading through. With a hand she gestured to the papers and laptops between them. "I've been busying myself with online classes and financial stuff for my store. I figure, since I like to learn and I like working on stuff for my restaurant, why not just go gun-ho and focus on that? It's helped."

"You always surprise me. Isn't it normal for people to sleep in on Sundays... or is that just a Saturday thing?" Steph asked, teasing Emma's knack for being available seemingly at all hours of the day. Well, at least whenever Steph asked after her. "Sorry about missing our last appointment, I was in a mood of sorts and didn't want to leave the house." A sheepish grin graced her lips as she curled her arms around herself. "But clearly, since I'm here, I'm over that at least."
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[div class=credit] WolfSol WolfSol Time: Wee hours of the morning | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse| Feeling: Neutral | Mentions: Emma( TerrorKitty TerrorKitty ) [/div]
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Danoram

probaly...
__________Audence Vālor__________
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Audence 2.png
OUTFIT: Black shirt, grey sweats | LOCATION: Daisy's house | FEELING: Ouch | EXTRA: (His bike) X

It happened five months ago. He'd worked ten days in a row, going on another, in order to rack up some vacation time. On top of that, he was staying up late, rifling through paperwork and constructing fitness plans for his trainees.

At forty-five miles an hour, he skid around a recommended-twenty curve with his hand hard on the throttle. In a haze, he was only speeding up until the bike laid over and became lodged up under the turn's guardrails. Had they not been there, he'd have likely gone over the mountain.

Luckily for him, he was close to town. Good weather, too. And he was uninjured.

Dragging his bike out from beneath that guardrail, he managed to ride it the rest of the way to Omen, albeit slowly given that something was wrong with it. He had a good idea of what it was, but decided to let a professional take a look.

Perhaps, in the back of his mind, there had been a subtle desire to check out the new automotive place called Daisy's Motors--not so much by the cars or the name, but rather the woman he'd seen manning the place. Pretty ironic when you put it that way, too.

At the end of the day, all that was wrong were some scratches, bent handlebars, and the front suspension was dented on the right fork. An easy fix but one that still called for replacement parts.

The cold plastic of a bag of frozen peas crinkles against his sore back and he cringes up, seething breathlessly through the pain. He refrains from outward expletives, half-hearing Daisy mumble something that registers with delay.

Still tense with pain, he peeks over his shoulder at the woman. His voice is strained as he repeats her, "I'm a fool? Maybe I was James Carr in a past life then." A sad attempt at comic relief but one nonetheless. "And you know," Audence eases up a tad, starting to adjust to the frozen packet, "I'm a pretty easy going guy, so I don't mind if you take advantage of me from time to time." He faces forward again. "As long as it's just you... On a side note, if it makes you feel any better, this isn't the first time I've taken a raw batting."

Reaching up with the same hand as before, he takes the peas from Daisy and turns to her, shirt falling into place and in need of ironing. "This isn't going to help much but you're beautiful for trying."

She stands below him in height--wearing only a tank-top and underwear. Audence briefly glances down with his eyes, and noticeably so, before looking off to the side, rubbing at his goatee. It's awkward but maybe more for her since she's the one exposed. The fact that she was so quick to assault him earlier is reassuring in that she didn't know it was him, but that she's standing here still as she is, half-naked, without a sign of discomposure makes him wonder.

Still looking off, he reaches and gently redirects her by the shoulder--in the direction of her room. He doesn't grab her, no, but rather gives her a light shove. Then he tells her, "Go wash up," trying not to bring attention to her attire so as not to embarrass her. "I make my own hours for work but I'm required ten hours a day because of salary, so the later I go in, the later I've gotta stick around. I'll head out when you do, though. Your keys and things are on that little table with the chevy stepside pick-up model." He pauses then adds, "Uh, nineteen-fifty-five... I think it said on the bottom," to make known that he snooped.

Before she's gone, he smiles with an amused exhale through his nose, waving her off with two fingers.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
NothingFancy NothingFancy
 
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Danoram

probaly...
__________Tyler Abernathy__________
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Tyler.png
OUTFIT: Without the jacket - Sloane's Coat | LOCATION: Coffee House, at a table | FEELING: Amused then Enkindled/Annoyed | Extra: Hearing aids (32%)​

"Hmm~?" Tyler hums snidely at Aiden's answer, standing there with a sly grin upon his lips as if to openly indicate his skepticism, but he probes no further and places a hand on the door above Sloane's to usher her in first.

Meanwhile they enter the Coffee House, he takes out his phone, letting the door close behind him with a jingle and clack--that annoying bell that's poorly hung by the upper frame.

He texts back and forth with Gwendolen, slowly making his way to the register without half a mind of what's in front of him.

Once there, he clicks the phone's screen off, slipping it away into a pocket, then takes the spot where Aiden had stood before walking off and picking their table. The words digitally displayed on the menus above and behind the barista are a blur from the distance but not so bad that he can't decipher them.

Mumbling the different drinks to himself, he lets his gaze drift toward Sloane. She doesn't look particularly happy... though, it's understandable why.

To be honest, he almost feels bad, taking advantage of an innocent girl--should he say? Looking at her, a quick glance over her figure, she could pass for younger than himself. It that is the case, then the last thing he wants is to bribe a drink out of her. Not to mention he doesn't even like coffee; couldn't tell you what a cappuccino really is despite his earlier countering at the park.

Ahhh, fuck it.

Sighing sharply, he swats a quick hand at the distant menus and walks away. Not a word, hushed by his guilty pride. It was a joke anyway, he tells himself, taking a seat across from Aiden but making sure to go the long way around, during which he swiftly smacks Alec Clemson on the back. It's isn't a harsh one--more like a love tap.

Moments pass to a point when Sloane has met up with the two guys at their table, bringing Aiden his coffee and Tyler his nothing if not a generous something. She seems like a nice girl so it wouldn't be a surprise if so.

Following a silence dedicated to their table amidst the chatter of the cafe, Aiden speaks up, pointing at Sloane. "When'd you move here?" he asks, furthering on to then ask if she's a tourist. Tyler doesn't mind them, scrolling through his messages with a college-mate--talk of a competition scheduled for the summer lagging to come for a club in which he is their first mechanic by ranking, not by number. They discuss various materials back and forth, apparently needing to pick just one out of them all. Evidently it's a hard decision, but one that Tyler easily comes to as if it were written in front of him the whole time. Fiberglass, bro. It's light if done by the right person.

"Hey, Tyler." A familiar voice sends sudden shock-waves through his brain, firing like rapid fighter-jet missiles, and immediately he puts his phone away. He turns his head to see Gwendolen, forgetting about Sloane's coat that's tight on his person. She's dressed more casually than her usual librarian-esque style, but it's a good look that brings him to check her out; though, not lustfully. Her ponytail, too--it's cute. She wears one occasionally, rarely enough at least that it's always a pleasant sight.

"Lady Lukas, mornin'," he takes his bag from her to be polite, wondering whether or not to offer her a seat at their table. She's probably just as unacquainted with the two as he is. With that, he gestures toward a seat, moving to sit as well until Aiden says something--something that may or may not have been ill-intended. Either way, Tyler perceives it in his own way and bites back, "She ain't like that."

Afterward, he manages a scoff for a laugh but shakes his head with distaste.

"Anyway, you gettin' a drink or somethin'? My treat, if you'd like," he offers, still standing.
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callisto callisto (Gwendolen) dazzling dazzling (Sloane) WolfSol WolfSol (Aiden) (Alec) Life. Life. (Warren, indirectly)
 
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Life.

Hot Cross Bun
Helper
Sherri Robbins

The detective had her eyes shut for a moment with the desire for a quick rest, but just as she felt her headache somewhat lessening, the sudden weight of a hand on her shoulder brought her back to a state of suffering. Her honey-coloured eyes shot open and glared over to the person who was brave enough to place a hand on the detective's shoulder, Calla Herzl. Sherri had worked with this certain toxicologist in a few past cases but her dislike for the woman's overall personality has not decreased. She respected her work and ethic behavior, otherwise, everything else about the woman annoyed her. Which as she spoke her greeting, Sherri couldn't help but feel the corners of her mouth drop down into an ugly frown as she muttered a few words, "Hilarious, considering you're the shorter one. The audacity to call me little." The other woman's attention was then turned over to Officer Wren as she introduced herself lending Sherri a moment to inhale a deep breath. Some part of her wondered if she could just hold that breath in and simply avoid any more time on this case by passing out, but she knew that would seem unprofessional so she exhaled, her body leaning a bit forward she did so.

It seemed that Calla had finished her introduction quickly and was already making her way over to the body, even giving Sherri a little indication to follow her, as if she was some dog. A vein must've been noticeable at this point from how she was driving the detective up the walls, and perhaps just the lack of sleep was making the darker-skinned woman exaggerate every thought and feeling. "Everything alright, Detective Robbins?"
"Peachy." Not wanting Calla to notice her irritated aura, Sherri straightened her attire and even released her hair out of its bun. Maybe releasing some tension on her head would alleviate the headache, a hopeless thought on the woman's part.

The officers that had been standing around the body had parted when Calla entered the circle. From afar, it was easier for Sherri's brain the process that she was a necessary part of the case, and that if she could help the woman find clues to the cause of death, the sooner she could go home and sleep. She made her way to hover close by the toxicologist, but not too close to where she was in her work space. Immediately she was sprouting out theories and potential poisons that could've been used. Sherri pulled out her pocket notebook and began taking notes. Her eyes then looked down at the body, examining closely for any telltale signs of wounds. None.

"Upon close examination, from the time the body was found, we found to clear signs of any open wounds or altercations," Sherri looked up and saw Officer Wren standing closeby. "Which makes sense considering there are no weapons in sight. Was there perhaps any other physical evidence lying around?"
"No ma'am."
"This is going to be a tough one. I need you to get into contact with the owner of Club Strykers. I want to see if their surveillance cameras may have caught any potential clues. Ms. Herzl I will be leavin-"

The detective's words were cut off when someone else who had joined the crime scene spoke up. Ethster Kroski. A pain in the neck to add onto the headache now. Sherri scooted closer to Officer Wren, "I thought I said only authorized personnel on the site. Why the hell is she here? We do not need a mortician on site. They deal with them once we're done with the case."
"Well she said she was former FB-"
"I don't give a rat's ass if she was a former FBI or worked in the Pentagon. Her status is former, for-mer, capeesh?"
"Yes ma'am. I'll remember that for future cases." Poor Officer Wren, the one officer that was continuously receiving Sherri's venom.

"Ms. Kroski, I do believe that Ms. Herzl and I have this case under control. This is the last time I am allowing you on site for a crime scene. As someone who formerly worked for a government agency, you should be more aware of the rules. I shall leave the body to you now, Ms. Herzl. If you need me, just call me on my work cell. I will be talking to the other investigators to see if they have found other clues and talking to the employee that found the body." Without waiting to hear what the toxicologist might have to say, Detective Robbins walked off, making her way over to a couple of officers who were talking to a disturbed employee.

dazzling dazzling
TerrorKitty TerrorKitty
 

Life.

Hot Cross Bun
Helper
Warren Fox

Warren.jpgThe jokester had become the joke once Alec mirrored back his smirk with his own choice of words. "Oh dang. She's one of those craz--I mean--people?" Warren was unsure how the doctor would feel about a patient being called crazy, although from his current mood, he might just agree. But just to be on the safe side, Warren decided against it. As he returned his attention over to Teresa Woods, he noticed that more people had entered the coffee house, and one who Warren despised, Aiden Morris.

If he could he would love to see Aiden behind bars and away from the town, but alas, due to some circumstances, Warren is in fact a person who is holding the gate wide open for the boy to roam. At this moment, Warren wanted nothing more than a nice, hot drink with a splash of alcohol in it. His sharp, gold eyes watched as a scruffy-haired looking boy--which Warren recognized as Tyler Abernathy from the newspaper article long ago and Alec's short mentions from time to time--walk past the two men. But not without giving a good pat on the doctor's back. One of Warren's eyebrows lifted but he simply just watched the boy walk off to seat himself at a table with Aiden Morris.

"Tyler Abernathy, right? One of your patients?" Warren kept his question of Tyler and Aiden's connection to himself, as he was unsure if Alec was aware of Aiden's reputation. "Seems the coffee shop is becoming livelier now. Do we still want to try to grab some drinks and drink them here or just take them to go? I'm sure you have a schedule to get to so I do not want to keep you any longer if I do not need to." That was only part of the truth, but Warren mostly wanted to stay away from Aiden while he could.

WolfSol WolfSol
Danoram Danoram
 

Life.

Hot Cross Bun
Helper
Brinlee Stryker

With the new entry of woman--that was clearly furious--Brinlee felt the urge to leave. It was unbelievable how tense the air became once the man dressed in the pink onesie and the woman he introduced as Jules talked to one another. The little boy dressed in a matching onesie was probably the only one oblivious to the intense atmosphere. Brinlee looked over to De'jah and heard her ask about their options. The orange-colored hair man didn't give a definitive answer for the gals. With a full stomach and a dead phone, Brinlee decided that she was ready to take her leave, "We can, um, get going then. It was, um, nice to meet you Jules. And thank you for the food...Titt--I mean Tatie!" Just as she was remembering the man's name, she managed to butcher it, and on top of that Brinlee was sure that Jules didn't see their introductions being close to nice. This situation was overall a train wreck. "Alright De'jah let's head out shall we?"

Brinlee didn't realize that she was holding her breath until she reached the last step that led to Tatie's apartment. "That was embarrassing. I actually forgot his name at first..." She glanced over to De'jah, "Did I say anything to y'all before I passed out?" With as much as she had to consume, there came a point that Brinlee didn't remember part of the night, and that terrified her. She never knew if she shared any secrets because she never shared much personal information to anyone, period. So if her guard was down last night, a few things may have slipped. Especially events of last night. "Never mind, you don't have to answer that question. Well, I would like to say thank you. Thank you for last night. It was quite the rollercoaster ride for me, but I'm glad I got to hang out with some rocking gals like you and Daisy. Feel free to come visit the club again. We can take whiskey shots next time. I have to go now, my phone is dead and I need to check up on my brother and...friends..." Despite the pain it brought her, Brinlee still had lingering habit to check up on her best friend Gwen. "Bye De'jah."

After a 20 minute Uber drive, Brinlee made it back home; nauseous, in pain, defeated, and deflated. A nice hot shower was the only other thing on her mind aside from plugging her phone in. Brinlee had to enter her home through the garage since she had left her keys at the club. A faint ashy smell greeted her as she walked through her living room. Benton's car was not in the driveway so she wondered if he had been home earlier. She walked to his side of the duplex and saw no fire, only the sleeping body of Raksha on the couch. With that peace in mind, Brinlee proceeded to accomplish her needs.

Another 20 minutes later and Brinlee was all set for the day. Physically though. Mentally not so much. And emotionally, well that was still needing some work.

Her mind had wandered the depths of her broken heart as she tried to sort out her feelings while under the stream of scorching water. But this only brought more confusion rather than clarity. A flood of thoughts of how to proceed with their friendship from now on. She had mindlessly dried and dressed, not really caring what outfit she wore that day. It was not until she looked over at her charged phone did her eyes show some kind of life. But panic was the first emotion to appear in them as her eyes saw a missed call from Valori and the Omen Community Hospital, a voicemail from the hospital, and then texts from Valori and Benton. "Oh my gosh what happened?" her heartbeat began to accelerate as she prepared herself for the voicemail, but right before she could listen to it a new incoming call rung her phone. The caller ID read Omen Police. Brinlee's heart dropped, "Hello?"

"Good morning, is this Brinlee Stryker?"
"Yes this is she."
"Hi Miss Stryker, we are calling from the Omen Police Department-"
"Is everything alright? Is Valori alright?"
"Ma'am, we are not calling regarding Valori. We are calling because we need access to your surveillance footage. One of your employees had called in this morning finding a dead body close to the club's premises." Brinlee fell onto her bed and placed a hand on her forehead to push back some of her hair. Her mouth hung wide open and she sat there in silence as her brain processed the announcement.
"Miss Stryker?"
"Y-Y-Yes. I'm still here. I, um, I will be there as soon as possible," she clicked the line off and threw her phone onto the pillow next to her. Her heartache was now replaced with pure panic. From seeing the missed calls from Valori and the hospital to the recent announcement of a murder close to her club. A stronger wave of nausea flooded Brinlee as she curled up in bed. Oh how it would be a great moment to just sleep the day away, but all the chaos of the morning was keeping her awake.

When troubled or distressed, there was always one person Brinlee would turn to to help her fight the crashing world with her--Benton. Instinctively, she reached over for her phone and called him. "Bennie...Valori's in the hospital. And the police just called me...they found a body close to the club. I need you...please. I will get in touch with Valori first and then make my way to the club...please meet me there."

Danoram Danoram
callisto callisto
TerrorKitty TerrorKitty
 

TerrorKitty

◢ Kitty ◤
Emma Styles
Interacted: Stephanie Harrison WolfSol WolfSol | Location: Omens Coffee
_______________________________________________________________________________________________
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Emma's smiled persisted as she actively listened to her patient. "That's good, I'm glad you're doing better. I was worried, but I believe in you. As long as you're keeping yourself productive instead of shutting down, but may I suggest..." Emma paused, her cheeks hue shifting red again at a quick and fleeting thought. "It's good that you're keeping yourself busy, but...For you specifically, maybe being alone isn't the best option. I'm not saying you need to suddenly be extremely extroverted and surround yourself with a bunch of people. I mean..Like, maybe find someone you can share your time with. If it doesn't work, maybe being alone is best, but trying things is how you learn what you actually like. I know I can't sleep alone, I used to have terrible insomnia, ever since I was a child I haven't been able to sleep without another person. Being around people is important to me, but I also don't do well in large groups. We all have our social tolerances. I used to get extremely depressed and would cut all contact for weeks or months even with my closest friends, sometimes entire halves of a year...I don't want to see you go through that.." The small woman stopped again, she was ranting, bad idea. Slow it down. "Maybe try finding a few close friends or possibly...A relationship, someone you can trust and support you. You're working on a lot of things which help fill the space, but that doesn't leave much room for reducing stress." Emma held her tongue again. She normally didn't talk this much even during a session. What was wrong with her? Why couldn't she keep her thoughts inside? "I propose this at the least. Maybe, ask someone to the fall dance. You may really like going this time, it can be big but there are a lot of quiet places throughout the event to relax and have a good time. I stayed away from the main events last year and it was wonderful, despite well, being stood up." The girl wanted to smack herself, what was she thinking? This is getting ridiculous.

That's when she heard it, her heart was pounding. Each beat built on the last. Despite her efforts, something inside her was stirring. It had been years since she felt....This way, not since she was a child. Her highschool crush in Freshman year. The only crush she'd ever had. Between her medications, depression spikes and other factors the feeling of....Love? Was it? Had been so far removed. She had considered herself Ace, but no, that wasn't the case. She knew it wasn't it was just an easier option, but this time opting out didn't seem possible. Why?



 

dazzling

blurry

Calla Herzl
Sherri Life. Life. Ethster TerrorKitty TerrorKitty | Stryker's crime scene
Calla saw Ethster before she heard her. The girl's voice, coming from above her shoulder, was nearly unmistakable. Calla shot her a small smile and turned back to the body, giving it a quick visual run-down, before Ethster's voice called back her attention. She almost didn't register that she was being scolded -- she was an adult, not a child -- but the tone of voice was one that she had heard her fair share of throughout her childhood. Turning to face Ethster, an innocent pout on her face, she almost didn't catch Sherri's mutter. Little. Things just weren't going to be easy today, were they?

She nodded in Sherri's direction, looking to acknowledge the lack of puncture wounds, but instead had to hold back a snicker at the absolute fury on her face as she nearly went ballistic on Officer Wren. With that and the vein that looked like it was about to burst in her forehead, Sherri looked just as red as the cherries she was supposedly so allergic to. On that thought, Calla had never examined a body after a fatal allergic reaction...

Calla wasn't holding any sort of grudge against Ethster, but she started to share Sherri's annoyance with the woman when she so brashly shoved Calla aside and started her work on the body. Calla was far from done, and still holding a vial of deep crimson blood in her hand. Her mouth was already open to protest when Sherri yet again opened the gates and unleashed a burst of anger onto Ethster. The day was starting to look more like a reality TV show than a crime scene investigation. Calla could see it, the name in big lights; Keeping Up with the Absolute Mess that is Omen's Crime Team. The older detective stormed off, leaving Calla alone with the mortician, who was still toiling over the body.

"Oh, don't you need to take the liver temperature? If the body is fresh, Rigor Mortis won't be such a good tool to use for an estimate. And um, I still need to do a few tests," She said, trying to keep the annoyance from creeping into her voice as she kneeled back over the body, not-so-gently bumping Ethster out of the way. Calla had no intention of responding to Ethster chewing her out, especially considering that she had written the cross-reference report last time. Half of it.

"Oh, um, I think I need to wrap up a few things around here... And don't you need to transport the body? Actually, no, I don't think Detective Robbins would be to happy with that. You should just listen to what she said," Calla tittered nervously, trying to mask her discomfort behind a small laugh. She didn't want to just tell Ethster to up and leave -- no, she wasn't that bold. But what she said was true; Sherri was the boss right now, and her word was rule.
 

Life.

Hot Cross Bun
Helper
Benton Stryker

Drove to Camaree's apartment, fed Bullet, walked Bullet and Juju outside for a bit, and then let them roughhouse in front of him--Benton did all this with half his mind wandering with thoughts of what he was about to say earlier and what Camaree might be thinking. That and the idea of asking Camaree to the Fall Festival. The exasperated man sat there on Camaree's couch with his elbows on his knees, looking aimlessly at the screen in front of him as it played some TV reality show. Clearly his attention was not on it since Keeping Up with the Kardashians was not his cup of tea. He straightened himself up and even released a little huff of surprise when he felt the couch cushion beside him sink in with the weight of Camaree.

"Brush your hair?" Benton blinked a few times as his brain attempted to grasp what it had heard the last minute, "Uh yeah I-I can brush your hair." She was close, maybe even a little closer than she was last night. Which the more he thought about it, the more his mind began replaying scenes from then. This was not helping his current situation as his heartbeat began to pound like crazy to the point where a slight blush crawled up his neck and on the tips of his ears. Doing his best to cover up his flustered mood, Benton cracked a laugh as he went along with Camaree's remark, "That's part of life. Too bad there isn't a fountain of youth just yet."

That thought ended quickly which meant that Benton needed to get onto brushing Camaree's hair. He reached out and softly cupped the end of her damp hair, receiving a whiff of lavender as he did so, "You smell good." As soon as he said it Benton wanted to take it back, "I mean the soap you used! It smells goo-beauti-I mean wonderful, on you!" Just a waterfall of words to intensify his nerves. But he kept on with brushing her hair because after a few strokes he actually felt himself calming down a bit. Not enough though to steady his heartbeat. Here they were sitting on the couch with the TV reality show playing in the background and the dogs passed out from their tussle. Benton realized that now may be a good time to ask Camaree. But was he going to be able to find the courage? "Hey, Camaree..." Benton started, "So the Fall Festival is coming up...and I mean Brinlee has been talking a storm about it you know with what she wants to do, what she wants to eat there, and who she wants to go with but she hasn't really made up her mind yet but I think I know who she was going to be asking and well I guess I wanted to be sure that you know but would you like to go to the Fall Festival with m-us?" Once again Benton used Brinlee as an excuse. Although he felt a small hint of pride for at least getting the words out.

Just as he finished up his invitation, Benton's phone began to ring. He pulled the device out of his pocket and saw that it was Brinlee, "Well speak of the devil."
"Hello?"
"Bennie...Valori's in the hospital. And the police just called me...they found a body close to the club. I need you...please. I will get in touch with Valori first and then make my way to the club...please meet me there." His heart dropped as he heard his sister choking up on the other end of the phone. With whatever happened last night adding to what was happening this morning, Benton could tell that Brinlee was at her wit's end. He gave Camaree's hair one last stroke before he returned the brush to her, "Yeah, we'll be there. Be careful on your way over there." Brinlee rarely used his nickname nowadays so he knew that when she called him that, she really needed someone. "Hey, Camaree, looks like we might need to grab breakfast somewhere quick and head to the club. We need to meet Brinlee there."

He got up and was ready to head out when Benton realized that he automatically assumed Camaree would tag along, "Oh, I mean...do you want to come with me to meet up with Brinlee? If not I can just drop some breakfast off here for you. I'm sorry I just assumed you'd come with me...um wow. Yeah, I uh I have to go and be there for Brin and I know she would like to see you too but if you have plans for today then I don't want to be in your way."

Danoram Danoram
 

TerrorKitty

◢ Kitty ◤
Ethster Lilith Kroski

Interacted: Detective Sherri Life. Life. , Calla Herzi dazzling dazzling | Mentioned: N/A | Location: Outside Club Strykers

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Ethster inwardly cringed as everyone around her talked down to her, as if it were the first time they've met. It was more than cringy it was insulting. She was part of the CSI unit, not some random off the street. Ethsters blood boiled but instead of going off it simmered down into a cold coagulated slurry. "You know I don't transport the bodies...I'm just going to go ahead alone..." She said dejectedly. First Robbins misidentifying her role in the investigation and Calla...Calla's words, they stung not like bees or wasps but like hornets, filling the white-haired girl with their painful toxins, into her veins and right towards her heart.

As she walked off the crime scene she stopped by officer Wren, he was new, and definately not on the detective's good side today, neither was she. "Sherri seems off today. You didn't make any mistakes, while I may be former FBI, I am still certainly part of the CSI division and fully authorized access to the crime scene. I just, it's like I'm some joke to them." Ethster sighed heavily. "You're doing fine kid, if anything, you're dealing with her better than most newbies."

The woman was done. When she got to her car, she knew she should have gone to the station and waited for the ambulance to bring the body but she just sat in the lot and cried. Cried harder than she had in a long time. It was so humiliating, demeaning and...Calla..
 

WolfSol

I just rolled a crit 1 for life...
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[div class=header]Alec Clemson[/div]
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There was a subtle change in expression, a flicker of realization, as Alec watched Warren look in the direction of Miss Woods. He didn't miss the quick change of words when Warren spoke, and although he'd never mentioned it before to Warren, he was glad the man had a level of consideration or respect to not use the word "crazy." It was disrespectful in his eyes, just another way to dehumanize or label a person. However, in Teresa Woods's case, the apple didn't fall far from the tree. "Yes," a sigh and then, "she's a 'repeat customer.'" He hinted, not wanting to speak his mind in an area with so many ears.

Alec's gaze resettled on Warren, and watched as the man's expression took on the tiniest of changes. He wasn't really sure if the man before him was uncomfortable or heated, but after their time together he surmised it must be the latter. It couldn't be Teresa Woods so what was--

The tap on his back was definitely unexpected, and he turned his attention to the sudden interference. There was a slight fear that it would be Miss Woods wanting to discuss yet another Dr. Google symptom she had. So when he took note that it was only Tyler, he didn't refrain the subtle sigh of relief. "Yes, Abernathy. He's much more of a... blessing, than most repeat customers." Alec said in reply as he watched the young Abernathy stroll to a table farther off with two other patrons. His gaze lingered over the other two for a moment, recognizing the mayor's son in a heartbeat, but not in the same negative light as Warren had. The other one, a woman, was familiar, but her name didn't quite come to him.

At the mention of his dreadfully boring schedule, Alec again blocked the side of his face with a hand and shook his head. "I have about another hour before I have to be in the office." He was about to decline the suggestion all together, but then remembered the strange shift in Warren's expression. It was still there, based on how Warren's gaze lingered somewhere beyond them. "However, if that's you hinting you'd rather not be here and end up meeting Miss Woods, then it sounds like a plan to me."

He'd made a move to stand, but a resounding laugh from overhead and an approaching figure had him pausing. "Hey, Warry, didn't expect to see you here so early." Alec's hand dropped from the side of his face as he looked up. His friend didn't typically go with such an alias, especially that one, so that in itself was a bit strange. Even stranger though was the speaker himself, Aiden Morris. Then again maybe that wasn't so strange considering Warren's profession. He'd likely been involved with the mayor's family once or twice. The use of the nickname spoke volumes though, and not in a good way.
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[div class=credit] WolfSol WolfSol Time: 09:10 | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse| Feeling: Neutral, Concerned| Interaction: Warren ( Life. Life. ) | Mention: Tyler ( Danoram Danoram ) dazzling dazzling (Sloane) Aiden[/div]
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WolfSol

I just rolled a crit 1 for life...
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[div class=header]Aiden Morris[/div]
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Tyler's reply doesn't kill Aiden's smirk. If anything, it amplifies it. However, it does act as a warning in his eyes. If it had been anyone else, he definitely would have continued teasing, but Tyler wasn't just anyone. So he took to the simple coffee drink and managed to keep his mouth shut. A tough decision because the girl, what had Tyler just called her, Lady? She was pretty cute.

Which is why he decided it would be in his best interest to bounce before he said something he'd regret. He took another sip of the coffee and then waved a hand to Sloane before standing up, "Thanks for the caffeine, and for being a..." he paused, struggling for the word, "Samaritan to Abernathy. See y'round." He turned then, ready to finish the hot drink in one go and hop out the door, but his gaze had wandered to the front of the store and he'd stopped. The shock of white-blond hair, almost the shade of his own if it had been darker, caught his attention. He'd recognize that head of hair anywhere, especially that infamous, glaring gaze.

It had been a few weeks since his last run-in with the law so he'd had the ultimate pleasure of using one of Omen's best lawyers, Warren Fox. Of course, that hadn't been the first time he'd taken advantage of the lawyer. The guy was practically a wizard when it came to finding loopholes, and his successes definitely hadn't gone unnoticed, especially by Aiden's mother. Too bad for him though, as it definitely wasn't the kind of attention he'd likely wanted.

Aiden stood for a moment, considering his tactic. It was never hard to tell when someone detested him, especially someone like Warren, so antagonizing him was always a fun time. Especially when he was able to get under the lawyer's skin which was thankfully getting easier as time went by. He'd also paused to observe the lawyer's companion whom he recognized as one of Omen's doctors, Dr. Campson or Clemson. Something like that.

With one last drink, he finished the coffee and tossed it in the nearby bin before heading off to rain on Warren's parade. "Hey, Warry, didn't expect to see you here so early." Aiden stopped by the lawyer's table and grinned. "It's been a while, how're your Mimi and Pops?" His gaze slid over to the doctor for a moment before locking back on the lawyer.
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[div class=credit] WolfSol WolfSol Time: Wee hours of the morning | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse| Feeling: Humored| Interactions: Sloane ( dazzling dazzling ) Warren ( Life. Life. ) Alec | Mentions: Tyler ( Danoram Danoram ) Gwen ( callisto callisto ) [/div]
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WolfSol

I just rolled a crit 1 for life...
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[div class=header]Stephanie "Steph" Harrison[/div]
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Steph listened quietly, nodding every once in a while as Emma spoke in that sleepy way of hers. Emma's ideas were often spot on, and Stephanie had done her best so far to work with those ideas. She kind of had to if she wanted to keep her business up and running, after all. No one wanted to go to a place for food when the waitress couldn't be bothered because she needed to "recharge" her extroversy. Something that had been a problem in the past, but she'd quickly found that it had been just an addition of stress and lack of an outlet.

At the mention of people, Steph tilted her head. "I am progressing, honest. I can manage well over three meal rushes now without getting tired, and if I do, I can finally sort of... I don't know how to word it, fake it? Your suggestion to 'just keep swimming,' or in my case, smiling, helped out a ton in the long run." She replied, smiling triumphantly.

"And I don't know. I thought about making some food for the fall thing and selling them on the side. That way, I could kill off two birds with one stone. Make a bit of profit and try and get used to having to keep up with my extroversy. Well, I doubt I'll be gun-ho after an hour or so, but I should have some money hopefully within that short of a time frame?" She nodded to herself as she picked up her beloved laptop and situated it in its bag by her feet. It gave the table a bit more space, well, except for the small mountain of papers and the index cards her laptop had been placed on.

"Being stood up isn't all bad. Last time I went to the movies with someone, they... kinda stood me up, so to spite them, I saw the movie that they said was stupid. The one they didn't want to see, and I loved it. Of course, I guess not every situation is like that." Her smile faltered, frowning as she watched Emma. The small woman looked troubled, and not wanting to see her trusted therapist or friend like that, she came to an idea. "But hey, if you're up for it, you can help me sell some goods!" The idea sounded incredibly fun. Having someone helping out and being there, especially someone that she didn't mind being around, sounded like a fun time to her. Well, hopefully. The practice of not falling into extreme levels of an introvert had gotten better, but there were always relapses.

"Oh, well, if you want to that is. Don't feel obligated just because I asked you!" She added quickly.
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[div class=credit] WolfSol WolfSol Time: Wee hours of the morning | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse| Feeling: Neutral | Mentions: Emma( TerrorKitty TerrorKitty ) [/div]
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Danoram

probaly...
__________Camaree Martin__________
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Camaree.png
OUTFIT: Brinlee's clothes | LOCATION: Camaree's Studio Apartment | FEELING: Curious​

When Benton agrees to brush her hair, Camaree turns away from him with peeking eyes at the TV. To feel the nylon bristles reach through damp strands, her heart-rate unexpectedly increases, but it's relaxing as they're pulled downward in a gentle fashion, parting the wavy chocolate-threads, ridding them of their tangled alignment.

"You smell good," Benton says unthinkingly.

"It's lavender," she tells him. It's a regular praise on her part, spoken by her classmates and even her professors, so she doesn't find it strange until he tries to correct himself, stuttering a whole mess that even brings Bullet's ears to perk.

She doesn't say anything, however, despite the ongoing curiosity toward his feelings for her--a curiosity that only continues to grow stronger. Instead, she suppresses a laugh into the palm of her hand, then for a moment only the Kardashian's on the television can be heard--reruns of older episodes while the newer ones have yet to be released.

If she's being honest with herself, it's not like she's never been attracted to Benton. He's balls to the walls handsome and sincere in his ways, which is a plus for Camaree. It almost makes her feel bad for liking Brinlee... Given that the assumption of Benton's feelings are accurate, that is.

"Hey, Camaree..."

"Hm? Hello, Benton."

"So the Fall Festival is coming up..."

Camaree knows already where this is going, but she lets him finish. Every year it's the same thing--and not in a bad way. She looks forward to it. Though, a part of her wishes Brinlee would be the one to ask. It's funny how that works when it wasn't even two years ago that she developed this admiration for the other woman, yet growing up she initially clung to Benton. Even now, it still seems that way. He's her first good morning and her last goodnight, but also the shoulder damp with her tears amidst the rest of open arms of empty consolation. It's as if she's blind; running to all the wrong people while the right one carefully clears her path, breaking his back to do so.

"I guess I wanted to be sure that you know, but would you like to go to the Fall Festival with m-us?" he asks.

Turning her head to see him better, she smiles. Lips parting to speak, it looks like she emits a ring-like tune, but evidently it's Benton's phone with an incoming call.

He's quick to answer before Brinlee's voice cracks through on the other end with urgency, afterwhich he strokes Camaree's hair one last time then makes for the door. "Hey, Camaree, looks like we might need to grab breakfast somewhere quick and head to the club. We need to meet Brinlee there," he says.

Already, the girl is on her feet by the time he stops to make sure that she's coming, poking her head out of her closet with blinking eyes. She tells him softly, "Let me grab my shoes." A black pair of slip-on fairies that at least cover her toes. On her way out, she grabs her purse from off of her bed, slinging it over her shoulder, then takes Bullet's leash that had been placed over the back of the couch. She clips it to his collar.

"Was everything okay?" she asks, "Brinlee isn't usually at the club this time around on a Sunday, is she?... I'm ready, though. If it's important and won't take long, we could just grab something after and bring Brinlee with us."
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Life. Life. (Benton) (Brinlee, mentioned)
 

callisto

i'm a ghost with the most, babe.

GWENDOLEN LUKAS
____________________________________________________________________________________________________


FEELING: embarrassed || LOCATION: coffee house

Gwen's face, pale in the morning sunlight, turned deep red with embarrassment upon hearing Aiden's words and tone of voice. The snicker certainly didn't help either, and Gwen responded by trying to sink deeper into her coat.

"Oh, no..." She attempted to interject, frantically glancing between the new boy and Tyler's kind face. "It's not like that!" Her voice was high-pitched, but soft - a feeble attempt to not draw any more eyes in her direction. A twinge in her heart. What do you mean, "getting all the ladies?"

It was only now that Gwen noticed the tan jacket, feminine and sleek, wrapped around Tyler's thin shoulders. Her lips pressed together. Had he ever worn something like that before? She'd never seen him wear something so form-fitting, much less so
posh.

She turned back to Tyler, trading the backpack into his open arms. "I meant," she breathed, feigning a small smile. "Thank you for taking me home last night." Her eyes flicked between the other young man and Tyler. In their endearing scruffiness, the two were in good company with one another. Gwen hovered, feeling a bit on edge. Tyler sat, gesturing towards an open seat for her to join them. An embarrassed smile burned into her cheeks, the girl waving her hands in insistent rejection of Tyler's offer.

"Oh, no," Gwen laughed softly, tucking a long strand of loose hair behind her ear. "Making you pay for my drink would be a terrible way of saying thank you." She waved off his words, edging back towards the counter. She gave a tight-lipped smile to Sloane, who had watched the brief interaction unfold, before turning around completely.

Might as well get something before I sneak out. I can at least pretend I got a phone call or text about something important...

Ah. Speaking of text messages.

Pulling out her phone, Gwendolen slid open the lock screen and navigated to her messages app, sending a text to her best friend. She gave a brief request to the barista, softly asking for a hot cup of Earl Grey, to go.

// Hey, girlie. How are you doing this morning? I barely remember last night... 🤮
// We should hang out soon. I miss you.

The sound of a swinging open door made Gwendolen turn. Tyler's light-haired companion had wandered from the table to speak to two men, who looked... less than pleased. So much for making a quick exit, with them in the way.

Biting her lip, Gwendolen snatched her to-go cup and returned, defeated, to Tyler. Feigning a friendly smile (whether out of social discomfort or from a new wave of post-blackout nausea, she wasn't sure) Gwen pointed to the now-empty seat beside Tyler and his new female friend.

"You sure you wouldn't mind if I stuck around?"
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Danoram Danoram (Tyler) // Life. Life. (Aiden) // dazzling dazzling (Sloane) // Life. Life. (Brinlee)
 
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NothingFancy

A FancyNothing
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LO C A T I O N || Radio Station O U T F I T || [X] F E E L I N G || Energized and ready to take on the day

Eddy.pngEdith tapped her fingers in a rapid rhythm that only she knew as she waited for the commercial break to end. Her reddish tinted, brown hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her outfit was comfy; grey yoga pants and dirty pink sweatshirt. Her outfit was further perfected with the large round, pink glasses she wore. Her boss-bitch Linda always told her to 'dress more appropriately,' but Eddy would just laugh and wave her hand nonchalantly. It wasn’t like she was a TV star and people looked at her for entertainment, besides, she was the main reason this radio station was still alive.

Eddy smirked, a carwash commercial playing mutedly in the backdrop. In fact, they'd been the ones to desperately ask her to join the station. When she was in high school she’d had a small pirate station which was popular amongst her peers. She’d taken a break after graduation to focus on college. However she'd flunked out, and been thrown into a small depression when her best friends Brin and Calla both convinced her to start up again, and
‘Getting Crazy with Eddy’ was born.

She took a lot of the listeners that the station still had and more, and in order to survive they’d had to offer some primo benefits. Benefits that paid for her cozy 1,400 sq foot apartment and fiat car. Not to mention was funding her second attempt at education.

Flashing of a red light above the sound box brought her back to the present, and she twisted in her chair until she was sitting with her legs propped on the table and her lips angled to the mike. Edith looked to her right, got the count off from Bill from behind the glass and then she was live.


“Heeeeeello my Omen stalkers! How are we feeling this Sunday?! I know, I know, it’s weird for me to be talking with y'all on God’s day, but Baking with Betsy was cancelled due to the homely Betsy being out sick. So here I am, gracing your ears with my beautiful voice.” She smiled widely, and cocked her head to the side, her finger twirling the the cord of her headset.

“It’s a little nippy out there this morning, but I have the reports from our smarty pants weather geeks, and they all claim it’ll get to a nice comfortable 70 degrees (or 21 celius for you nerds). So if you wimps out there must wear a coat, make sure it's a thin one or you’ll be crying in the afternoon.”

She tapped a button on her sound board in front of her and a quick whining of a baby filled the room.

“On other news, traffic is a bit congested on the roads leading to my second home, Stryker Bar. Reports of police activity near the establishment have been reported, but no further details have been revealed.”

Eddy felt a small stab of concern run through her as she read out that news tidbit, she hoped that nothing too severe was going on… She’d have to give Brinlee a call when she was done, but for now she had a job to do.

“Oooo! Hope all you college kids kept your hands to yourself and kept some pepper spray in your fists. Keep your ditzy friends close, and your pussy boys closer, otherwise the mugger will get ya,” --exaggerated squeaky male gasp sound effect-- “Speaking of pussy boys,” Eddy smirked, leaned back in her chair and put her hands behind her head. She would never miss the opportunity to trash talk her ex Benton Stryker. It was her way of keeping the insane urge to run into his arms at bay. To keep from thinking about his eyes, and his smell. What a lovely smell it was too, like freshly chopped wood... it made her think of curling up to a wood fire while a blizzard blows outside...

“Saw my ex at the bar last night,” --oooooooo, sound effect-- “This boy was still hanging all over Ms. Prissy’s every word, hell he didn’t even notice me when I greeted him. How pathetic is that?”

She chuckled and sighed, her chest tightening even at the slightest mention of his name, and her. Camaree Van - perfect - Martin, the girl who can "do no wrong.' She hadn’t been there on a social visit - simply to post a few posters for her next DJ show - but seeing the young girl and her ex-lover had made her bitter. She’d left shortly after, not even making an attempt to say hi to the rest of her friends she’d seen in the bar. They didn’t need to hear her complain about her jilted love for the hundredth time. No, she’d gone home and gotten to bed early for her show this morning.

“Which leads me into my favorite segment of the morning,” a little jingle played, and a deep voiced man’s voice said, “No bullshit advice”

“Today we are reading a letter from Ms. Jilted, age 19. She writes, ‘Dear Eddy, I went on a date with a super hot - and popular - guy from my college the other day, and I thought it went really well! But he never texted me back, and ghosted my messages. And then yesterday I saw him grab some strange woman in the middle of the street and kiss her like they were lovers reuniting after a war! What should I do? Should I confront him on Monday, or just pretend I didn’t see it?’”

Eddy held back a snigger. She had a guess about whom the subject of the letter was. He was the star of over 50% of her letters and had been a guest on her show a couple times, Sven Hawthrone. The biggest heart throb and heart breaker in Omen. Thoughts of him made her think about his agent, Ryland. Now a smirk a mile long split her face in two, she felt the sudden urge to see the squirmy man. Oh how she would love to see the man jump as she calls his name from several feet away.

“Well Ms. Jilted, first off if a guy takes a girl out on a date and doesn’t text her within 24 hours, you can just assume he’s moved on from your gorgeous ass like the idiot that he is, so you should move your fine self onto the next piece o’ meat,” --woman catcalling sound effect-- “And second, if you see this same asshole locking lips with any random ho on the street, stay the hell away. That boy most likely has somethin’ you don’t want to catch!”

Eddy threw the piece of paper behind her, and swirled in her chair. She always felt a rush when laying down the hard truth, and it made it all the sweeter that she could tease the cutie Sven along with it. She hoped she’d get a text from him later so that she could get him to tell her where Ryland was at.

“Well ladies and gents, it’s almost time for a commercial break, but before I assault you ears with the sound of desperate businesses, let me just shoot you a little burst of encouragement. Y’all know the Fall Dance is fast approaching, don’t wait for that hunk of hubba bubba you’ve been eyeing to ask you out! It’s 2019 gurls! Take your destiny in your own hands and ask that little bitch out!”

She pressed another button and a brief excerpt from ‘Girls Rule the World’ played, and she smiled at the men in her sound booth who were rolling their eyes in her direction.

“That’s all for now, see you losers in 2-5 minutes!”

And with that the red light turned off, and she sighed before standing and stretching out her back. She adjusted her yoga pants, pulling her underwear from its snug home, and snapping it back into a more comfortable position. I should take my own advice… gotta find my little a-dork-able agent, and ask him to the dance.

She wasn’t gonna wait for Sven to get to her, she had no patience for that. She pulled out her pink rhinestone phone and quickly typed the model a demand.


Capture.PNG

M E N T I O N S || Danoram Danoram Life. Life. WolfSol WolfSol dazzling dazzling ... I N T E R A C T E D || Destructus Kloud Destructus Kloud

 
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NothingFancy

A FancyNothing
Daisy.PNG

LOCATION || Home … TIME || 08:41am ... FEELING || Confused, awkward10.27.19 daisy.png

“...I don't mind if you take advantage of me from time to time."

“...this isn't the first time I've taken a raw batting."

"This isn't going to help much but you're beautiful for trying."


All these statements -- and compliments -- were swirling in Daisy’s head, and she could no longer tell if she was dizzy from her hangover, or from the soft, deep voice that hummed above her. Audence gently removed the bag of peas from her grip, his large hand brushed against hers, lighter than the whisper of a butterfly’s wing. She felt exposed before him, and not just because of the insane amount of skin showing. And then, as though she had made this observation out-loud, she saw his eyes slightly move to examine her, the red irises bright and intoxicating as they moved slowly across her body.

BOOM! BOOM! Her heart was slamming against her chest, a wrecking ball determined to crack her ribcage.
What the hell…? She was obviously was NOT sober, she was out of her mind. Her fingers twitched and she focused on keeping her head held high and her face unreadable. But then, because the universe must hate her, his hands cupped the top of her shoulders and twirled her around. Although the movement was soft, it was firm, and against her better judgement, she felt heat rush within her pinpointing to the places his fingers touched her skin.

In addition, the movement caused a whiff of air to swirl around them, and she caught the scent of cinnamon, a sharp yet sweetly spicy scent. It mixed with strong male musk, no doubt from tossing and turning on the couch last night. A scent that set her on edge.

Audence’s hands were slightly cold from the frozen vegetables that he’d been holding, and she was glad that he’d turned her around, because she was certain her stupid face was bright red. Her own hands were throbbing with the need to rise and grab hold of his, but before she could act on it he gave her a light shove and said the three words a girl hates hearing in the morning,


"Go wash up,"

With those three words, suddenly all the bubbliness and weird warmth that was cultivating within her evaporated like fog beneath a blazing sun. No pants… unwashed hair… running make-up… un-shaved-legs.

“Yes, yes, yes! Hahaha…” She said hurriedly as she propelled her way down the hall to her room, not hearing the rest that he said, “Just… I need a ride to my car, it’s a few blocks from the bar… I’ll try to be quick!”

Fuuuuuuuck…
She was an idiot! Why did tequila now hate her, deleting important information until it’s too late? Like, ‘hey, now that your hot male friend is on top of you, guess what?! He brought you home, remember?!!'

Daisy entered her room and slammed her door a bit louder than she had intended. She leaned against the back of her door, her heart now frantic with panic, and slowly she slid to the ground, her hands coming up to hold her head. She was spiraling in embarrassment and regret. She even vowed to never drink tequila again -- a vow made to be broken -- and her eyes snapped about the room looking for an escape, a way out of her life. But then they paused, just above her bed.

She stared at the black and white picture of her great-grandparents on her wall.
[x] They were standing in front of their small car manufacturer, her deda was wearing suspenders and fedora hat, his arm around a smaller woman next to him. Baba stood straight, her hair pinned in early 1900s fashion, and her dainty hands were clasped in front of her, resting in the large folds of her simple dress. But it was her face that Daisy always studied, a calm dainty face that had sharp angles and her lips were slightly curled in a knowing smile.

When Daisy was young, she would always run to Deda, and demand to hear about the woman that she took after. He would always laugh, waving off any adults that tried to pry her off his frail body, and he would always begin his stories the same way,


“Dotty, your baba, was a beautiful woman, the loveliest, kindest woman. Her dark brown hair was like yours, and her eyes… there was no deeper, or more dazzling shade of blue to be found on this earth. They made the clouds cry, and the ocean whisper waves of envy. I see her in your eyes…”

He would then bring a shaky hand to her cheek, and she’d press her head into his hold, her young face bright with excitement,

“But more than that, I see her strength, her power in you. I have never met a more driven and hardworking woman in my life. She carried me, she supported me, the only reason my company flourished like it did, was because of her...”

And if they were alone, tucked away in the corner where they would not be a nuisance to whatever social gathering was happening - one too old for people to mind and take the time to listen to, the other too young and small to be of importance - Deda would glance up and glare at his grandson. Her father would usually be amongst a group of people, his hand which glittered with Deda’s hard earned wealth griped a crystal glass of whisky. His laugh would float on the evening’s golden light and she would feel her deda stiffen beneath her.

“Phillip did wrong by that boy… if he were alive I'd force him to put the company in your name, instead of your father, my Солнышко (solnyshko)...”

That’s right… I am a strong woman… just like Baba.

Daisy stood, all the weakness in her legs were gone, and she marched with purpose into her bathroom. Thinking about her great-grandparents always helped motivate her to keep moving forward. They were her role models in life, and she only wished she could still have them in her life. Smiling, she quickly got ready for work, shower, dressed for the day
[x] and threw on her leather jacket before bursting back into the main part of the house.

“Let’s get a move on! I got engines to fix, and tires to check!”

She pulled on her boots, shot Audence a teasing smile and stepped outside to wait on the porch while he caught up.


Danoram Danoram
 
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Danoram

probaly...
__________Audence Vālor__________
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Audence 2.png
OUTFIT: Black shirt, grey sweats | LOCATION: Daisy's house | FEELING: Sore/Stupid | EXTRA: (His bike) X

Audence sat on Daisy's couch, slumped deep into the cushions--the same one he'd slept on last night without a blanket or pillow, stretched long across with his arms folded over his chest and hood over his head.

With his shins pressed against the edge of her coffee table--only partly due to his height--he patiently twiddled his thumbs in his lap while quietly observing the room. He noted Daisy's old-school tastes. Nodded absently in the moment. Whistled a scratchy tune.

"I guess this is where I tell you you're lucky I like you..." Like a whisper in his ear, he thought back on that casual flirtation. "Maybe I was James Carr in a past life..." He stopped whistling then; though, his lips remained pursed. "I don't mind if you take advantage of me..." At that one, his eyes grew narrow. "As long as it's just you..." Then suddenly, a heavy exhale inflated his cheeks and he brought an ashamed hand up to cover his face in embarrassed regret--the other, too, as the memory sunk deeper, dropping like a ten-ton barbell onto his very pride.

Oh my God... he inwardly wallows. James Carr... Really?

Oh, I'm an idiot. That was so corny. Fuckin' gross, man.

"Let’s get a move on!" Daisy starts abruptly upon entering the room, giving Audence a scare--he throws his hands up as if at gun-point but doesn't make a sound, simply turning to see the woman with wide eyes. Eyes that follow her to the front door where she leans down to adjust her boots. However, it's not the boots that he finds himself fixating on until she shoots him a darling smile that he only looks away from.

Watch yourself, Audence...

She's soon gone, waiting for him on the porch as he retrieves his keys from the dining table. His phone and his wallet, too, but from the coffee table as he passes it, meeting her outside. Parked along the concrete curb is where he left his bike last night, one helmet hanging from the handlebars and another sitting perfectly on the leather seat, untouched, where he'd forgotten it. Fortunately, it didn't rain... Looking at them, you can tell who wore which. It's only now that he recalls how easily Daisy knew to put hers on and take it off, having been the one to hang it away on her own even though Audence moved to help her.

He tosses his keys up, catching them, then gestures to the bike, "You know how it goes, right? You've ridden one before- I could tell. Have you ever driven?" As he pops the question, he walks off, slowly enough that Daisy can catch and keep up as they near the well-kept, sleek motorcycle. "Originally, I wasn't going for a two-seater but the smaller ones just didn't feel right... I'm happy with this, though. Anyway, where exactly do you need me to drop you off?"
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NothingFancy NothingFancy (Daisy)
 
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Magical Squid Senpai

A big mistake

Monkey Man
Location: Out working then to Tatie's house.
Interacting: Tatie Danoram Danoram and Julia callisto callisto
Mentions:
Feeling: Happy and tired yesterday. Tired and awkward now.
Outfit: black sweatpants and a baggy white tee-shirt.

Masayuki was on a role this day. He had earned two more clients in one day! Just as he had finished the first yard the next door neighbor immediately wanted him to mow their yard. They were not about to let the bitch next door have a better yard then them! So Monkey was immediately hired for that day and paid extra too. Sure it was a lot of work....but money! Monkey couldn't keep the smile off of his face as he pulled some weeds out of the older ladies garden. 'Usually I would never want to be in the middle of an old lady rivalry, but if I get paid more then I would maybe even choose a side!' He was not used to doing so much in one day. Both ladies needed him to do so many things that he felt like his hands were going to fall off! But the thought of extra pay was keeping him moving.
It was already close to getting dark, thanks to starting the house late. Luckily the lady invited him in to enjoy a whole plate of chocolate chip cookies and milk, it does a body good. She allowed him take the rest of the cookies home with him, which was about thirty. Why do old ladies always make so much food?
With extra money in hand and a bag of soft cookies in the other, Monkey made his way back to his car with a bit of a hop in his step. He was definitely going to share these, if he didn't eat them all on the way home.
He was very tempted to just park his van on the side of the road and call it a day. He was so worn out and feared that taking a shower would wake him up, ruining his night! So the moment he got to the gas station and turned the van off, he fell asleep.

So here he was now. Laying in a warm bath, on his stomach...falling asleep again. He had been in there for a pretty long time, his toes were beyond prunes by now. Yuki stirred a bit his chin hurting from resting it on the side of the tub this whole time and felt it was time to stop soaking. He dried off, got dressed and ran a towel through his black hair before leaving the bathroom. "Hey Tatie, I think I have poison ivy again. It's all over my J-J-Julia! Hiii" He promptly covered his stomach with his shirt, hiding the rash that was forming there. He already knew what kind of situation this was and oh boy was he not a fan of it. The worst part was that he had no idea why this was happening. Sure, Julia was nice and all but...Monkey always felt so awkward around her, as if he is disappointing her constantly. She may not think that that but he feels it.
So this was a fun morning!
 

deianeira

busy bee

Tallulah Grymes
Tallulah nodded thoughtfully, unconsciously twirling her long hair around a finger, unraveling it, and repeating the process. A nervous-tick, one might call it. "I can get that done, I'd say. It may only be a rough design, but it's definitely doable." Suddenly, she launches herself back from the counter and rifles through the counter below, "Now, if I could just find this quickly…"

She scavenges for a few moments more, the only noise being the sound of containers opening and closing and Tallulah's annoyed grumbles. "A-ha!", she exclaims, hoisting her prized sketchbook above her head (and the counter) to display to Ryland. "Here it is," she grinned, and threw it open onto the counter.

Listed on the opening page, in flowing, carefully-inscribed calligraphy was the contact information of all of her fabric and material suppliers. With her finger, she dragged down the list until she reached her usual provider. "Fabric Depot. Here's the number, see?" She grabbed a post-it from a few inches away, scribbling down the address, "It's over by ____, you know?"

As she was putting the book back into its rightful position, she heard Ryland clear his throat again, and she craned her neck backwards to look at him. "And yes, just get that contract to me in ink and we can work something out." With a gracious smile, her eyes squinting a bit at the corners, she extended her hand, "'leasure to be doing business with you, Mr. Gunner!"

---

The next few hours were a bit stressful for Tallulah.

It's not like they needed to be, not really. Such a project as three measly designs for outfits wasn't a big deal. No, it wasn't a big deal, and yet, she was freaking out. At least, more than she had in awhile.

These designs needed to be perfect. She couldn't just let an opportunity like this pass her by.

Ryland had left a few hours earlier, hastily exiting after their conversation, bidding her goodbye and promising to see her in a few days. Since then, Tallulah had been in the same spot she had been in when he walked out the door. She had sketched and sketched and sketched until her hands were red and she couldn't feel her left thumb from the indent of the pencil.

In a small fit of frustration, she heaved a father impressive sigh and slid the pencil across the counter. Her head flopped down onto the counter, where she pouted. Her eyes quickly came to rest on the papers in front of her. Sitting there, she could just see the words printed their from the corner of her eye: her business cards. She had gotten a few extra when she fished it one out for Ryland earlier, it seemed.

Tallulah propped herself up on her elbows, staring at her own smiling face and the bright, aesthetic palette of the card. "I just need some inspiration," she mumbled to herself, absentmindedly flipping it back and forth. But where to get it from?

Tags: Ryland ( Danoram Danoram )
Status: OPEN​
 

Danoram

probaly...
__________De'jah Palmer__________
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
De'jah.png
OUTFIT: X | LOCATION: Get It Done Parlor | FEELING: Revived | EXTRA: Her car (X)​

After leaving Tatie's and waving goodbye to Brinlee Stryker, De'jah walked to her parlor and picked up her car--a 2014 chevy impala with tinted windows and a custom purple paint-job along the exterior. She cut straight home like a bird south for the winter, washed up, downed a monster energy drink, then started back out for work.

No matter the occasion--no matter a hangover or weathered fever--De'jah is dressed to impress.

She cruises into town, shielding her eyes with a pair of sunglasses, one arm out the window. As usual, the Coffee House is booming, but not quite like De'jah with her stereo up--volume 30 out of 45--playing Kendrick Lamar's HUMBLE as she rolls her shoulders, whips her head, and points her fingers about the small space in synch with the beat.

Even when the driver in front of her abruptly engages their brakes, causing her to do the same, she maintains her groove, simply mouthing the words to the song with an expression of disapproval. "Hol' up, bitch. Hol' up, lil' bitch. Be humble~"

She turns right, heads straight, then takes a left into a parking space in front of her parlor, built along a strip of several buildings like it in size. Stepping out, she locks the doors to the impala while peeking into Tally's Boutique to see a tall, lanky man leaving. She recognizes him as Sven Hawthorne's manager but fails to put the name to the face. As he exits through the boutique's doors, De'jah wiggles her fingers at him and smiles, "Yoohoo~ Fine mornin', ya feel?"

The man nods politely but doesn't respond, then De'jah disappears into her parlor and already her girls are there, styling hair and snipping away at dead-ends. "Mornin' lovelies~"

"Haaay~!"----"Oooh, you lookin' cute, De'jah!"----"Watchu mean? She always lookin' a ten outta ten."

"Please, ladies, please. You flatter too much, aha~"
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OPEN FOR INTERACTION
 

Danoram

probaly...
__________Ryland Gunner__________
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Ryland.png
OUTFIT: X | LOCATION: Parking lot then on the road | FEELING: Sorry | EXTRA: Glasses - on​

He offers the woman a nod but nothing more, thinking to himself as he opens the driver-side door to his white 2016 land rover that she looks familiar.

Get It Done Parlor, a place that offers many services from skilled cosmeticians. Some of his models frequent the place; it’s how he’s heard the name. As someone who dyes his own hair, he’s never let himself be bothered to waste money on their labor, even if it would save him some time.

He’s a busy man when out and about. Home, however, isn’t quite the place to relax neither--not when he has two rambunctious older brothers bidding him to their every command and desire.

”Ry’, pick me up some smokes.”----”Hey, Ry’, you’re cooking dinner tonight, by the way.”----”Rylaaand!”----”Yo, Ry’!”----”Ry!”

Just hearing their voices in his head brings him a sigh as his seat-belt buckles a satisfying click. He turns the key in the ignition and the engine starts up smoothly, rumbling something low. Already the radio is tuned to a morning talk-show--not one that he particularly enjoys, but one that’s hosted by a friend at least. Besides, he’s not interested in music, and silence makes him uneasy--that buzzing static-like sensation and the feeling that some disembodied voice is going to scream at any moment.

Sudden laughter, while still worthy of a slight jolt in the shoulders, is much preferred over that.

Bzzt-Bzzt.

Ryland gasps, reflexively touching his pocket for his phone. It buzzes again, so he knows it’s a call and quickly answers with a frantic, “Hell-Hell-Hello?”

“Gunner, it’s Rubin.”

“Y-Yes?”

“Have you discussed the promotional photo-shoot with the owner of Tally’s Boutique?”

“Miss Grymes, yes, I- I have. She-”

“What’d she say?”

The interruption causes Ryland to tense up as if he’s the one who did something wrong. “She has agreed and will present-... will present us three designs by- by Wednesday.”

“Make it five.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Five designs. We’re giving Hawthorne the front and back cover of Vanity Fair’s magazine since Toshiba backed out due to personal reasons. He won’t make the shoot.”

“B-But... “

“We’re just going to do it all at once with this Grymes woman. Lainhart took a look at her ads and website and decided she’s worth the time and money. Just let her know we need two additions to the other three.”

Following this, a click indicating that Rubin has already ended the call. Ryland bites his lip, worried for Tallulah as he begins typing her a text, too anxious to face her directly with the news.

”Miss Grymes, it’s Ryland Gunner with the E.B. My director, Rubin Somosky, has just instructed me to tell you that Sven Hawthorne will be taking over another model’s place in Vanity Fair’s upcoming release and that our General Director has asked for two additional designs to the three for WOmen’s Magazine. These two additions will be featured on the front and back covers of the release. If you cannot do this, please let me know.”

After sending the message, his body urges him to leave the parking lot, and he does.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
deianeira deianeira (Texted)
 

callisto

i'm a ghost with the most, babe.

Julia Eriksson
____________________________________________________________________________________________________
LOCATION: tatie's apartment | FEELING: exasperated

Jules said nothing when the two tired women slipped through the door, escaping the tense room as if it had suddenly filled with Agent Orange. She didn't dare respond to Tatie's cold welcome, nor his introduction to the two guests. Rational and understanding. The slight made her throat tighten. Was it really that irrational to want to know who was around their child? Having two strange women sleep in the same one-bedroom apartment as your son was enough reason to feel uncomfortable, and Julia refused to feel sorry for taking it as anything but "unseemly".

For the briefest of moments, Liam - her darling baby Liam - broke the facade. Julia's slender hand found its way to her son's red hair, caressing the gentle slopes of his still-forming scalp.

"Hey there, little man." Her smile beamed, though anyone within spitting distance could see the fire that bubbled behind it. "Mommy loves you without allllll her heart." She glanced up at Tatie, though her head still bent down towards her pink little boy, murmuring to herself. "And Mommy loves daddy without her heart, too." She knew it was wrong to bring Liam into these kinds of squabbles. As far as he was concerned, Mommy and Daddy needed to love and care about each other as much as they did him. It wasn't fair to make him assume otherwise... and God forbid how that emotional stress might affect him throughout these formative years.

"Hey! I bet you couldn't say hippopotamus four times in a row without pronouncing it wrong!" At Liam's expected cry of indignance - Nooooo, I could!! - Jules began to push him softly towards Tatie's bedroom, hoping to put the stubborn boy out of commission for a half hour or so. "Go on, then! Once you're sure you've got it, I want you to come back and show me, ok? Now... go!"

Jules watched with satisfaction as the young boy darted to the bedroom, with faint sounds of hippotamoose... hippotamus... hippopotoose... creeping into the living room from behind the now-closed door.

She turned to Tatie, a mixture of frustration and concern etched onto her pale skin.

"So." Jules glanced around the apartment. Without meaning to, she had the tendency to come off like a hawk, or a prowling cat - always on the lookout for something that concerned her. "My darling ex-fiance. Father to my child. Guardian of my flesh and blood." She began to pace around the room, her voice low and verging on a snarl.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I have every reason to be uncomfortable with my child having what is functionally a sleepover with two obviously drunk women. And don't try to tell me otherwise, I can recognize a walk of shame when I see one." She huffed, rubbing her temples."God forbid - PLEASE tell me this isn't something you do often."

The demand was rhetorical. Her words soldiered on, though the severity of her voice had significantly lowered. Exasperated; Frustrated; She now looked anywhere but in Tatie's eyes.

"And anyway, the whole reason I came here was to see if -"

Masayuki suddenly burst from the bathroom, complaining about a rash. An inward groan bubbled up inside her. Masayuki - Monkey, as he was known, - was the bread to Tatie's butter; the peanut butter to his jelly. The two had been friends, symbiotic safety-nets, for as long as Julia could remember - with the notable exception of when the boy fell into a relationship with a less-than-good man. Jules should have expected him to be lurking around, though ever since she had moved to the city, she'd fallen out of the loop on his location. Part of her had just assumed he'd never left.

The last place she expected him to be was in Tatie's bathroom, however.

A sigh. "Hi, Monkey." She struggled to feign a polite smile. The hilarity of her using his nickname was lost on her - at this point, the name was simply his. He wasn't a bad person - quite the opposite, really - and Jules knew he was in no way deserving of her scorn. It was just that... he and Tatie were so similar. She couldn't deal with that many emotional-grade children in one place at one time. Especially not right now, though part of her wondered if his presence might soften the tension. "Are you doing well?"


____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Danoram Danoram (Tatie) Magical Squid Senpai Magical Squid Senpai (Monkey)
 
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Danoram

probaly...
__________Tatie Adderly__________
____________________________________________________________________________________________________​
Tatie.png
OUTFIT: X (Matches Liam) | LOCATION: Home (X) | FEELING: Irritated | EXTRA: Liam - in the bedroom​

Tatie waits for De'jah and Brinlee to leave with his arms crossed, gaze downcast at the floor. He taps his foot impatiently. Then when they're gone, he opens his mouth to speak, but not before Julia strikes first with that, "Mommy loves daddy without her heart, too."

Maple eyes look up at him--Julia's--with a sweet smile seemingly for Liam that Tatie takes insultingly to see. It brings his upper lip to curl in distaste as if a foul odor had just swept across the room.

To think that four years ago he was down on one knee, placing a hard-earned ring around this woman's finger; one that she later returned to him in tears. It sits, now, in a black box, wrapped in satin and tucked away in the top drawer of his nightstand. Why he didn't just throw it away or get his money back, he still wonders himself.

To be honest, sometimes he forgets that it's there.

Julia begins pacing back and forth after sending Liam to the bedroom. Tatie, still tapping his foot, cocks a brow at her. However, when she speaks, he stops.

"I don't know what's going through your mind, but I have every reason to be uncomfortable with my child having what is functionally a sleepover with two obviously drunk women. And don't try to tell me otherwise, I can recognize a walk of shame when I see one... God forbid - PLEASE tell me this isn't something you do often."

"It's not," he tries to tell her, "they literally showed-"

"And anyway, the whole reason I came here was to see if -"

"Hey Tatie, I think I have poison ivy again. It's all over my J-J-Julia! Hiii"

...What an entrance.

Julia sighs, greeting the older--yet equally short--Masayuki, also known as Monkey, as he joins the scene. Tatie, too, doesn't appear very thrilled to remember he'd let the guy in to use his bathroom. Good timing... is all he can think as he steps toward his room to check on Liam. Peeking through a crack in the door, the boy is propped against the headboard of the bed with a thumb in his mouth, watching the television play his favorite kid show.

"You're so smart, Liam," Tatie says aloud, catching Liam's attention. He waves at him. Tatie waves back, then he shuts the door and returns to the stuffy room in which Julia's presence has begun to visibly rot the ceiling. No, that's just water damage from last year.

Oh, okay.

Once again sporting a hateful scowl, Tatie goes to the kitchen-area to clean the dishes without another word. If she's not going to give him a chance to answer her questions, then he'll let her mull over them on her own. Once he's finished with that, he opens a small drawer filled with random chargers and what would appear to be worthless objects upon first glance--otherwise known as a junk drawer--and he takes out a small tube that reads Ivarest across it in bold, green letters.

He throws it at Monkey without a heads-up, look out, or another form of warning. It hits him in the shoulder, falling to the floor, and Tatie says, "Once that runs out, that's it. I'm not buying anymore. And don't touch anything- Fuckin' nasty... gree- greasy green fingers and shit, spreading the outdoors all through my apartment like I don't fucking live here or something. What are you gonna do if Liam gets it? Have you not seen that kid crawl around, licking the damn floors, acting like he's a dog, barking and rubbing his face all over the walls?"

"And, you, Jules- Chill out. I wouldn't blindly let people exist around Liam without proper evaluation, but I don't have to explain that to you. What are you doing here anyway? You could've sent a text or called. I would've had them out already to avoid this shit." Tatie shapes his hand into a gun and aims it at his temple, "Your overactive imagination," then he cocks his head to the side as if to signify that he just pulled the trigger.
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callisto callisto (Jules) Magical Squid Senpai Magical Squid Senpai (Monkey)
 

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