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Realistic or Modern Running Triangles

Sub Genres
Anime, LGTBQ Friendly, Realistic, Romance, School, Slice of Life


4:30 - 6:00 PM, Saturday, September 9th

Recent News:
There was a terrible car wreck involving two families outside of the local library and near the mall. Two died, one an infant and the other a male driver. More information is expected to be released.

Late-night muggings have been reported and have the police on high-alert.

Weather Report:
Cloudy with anticipated showers to a light degree.

Everyone is free to start posting! Try to tag only those whose names are mentioned in your post, but I fully intend on reading them all either way. Based on the set time, your characters may be at work or they may not--that depends entirely on your preference. Don't focus too much on it, however. You don't have to feel limited by the time-frame. It is just there for an idea and to let us know what time I plan on it being when we take our first time-skip to another scene, which could be just the next day or even the same day but later.

Also, remember that the town is a more rural-like setting. I will have a post up when I get home in, like, forty-five minutes and you are free to wait for that. I don't mind.

If you have any questions, locate the OOC tab :) Do not post until you've established your character's crush.

@WolfSol @Akio Chikara @LiviathRose @TerrinX @NightMoves @Cracker @Mauve @Dizzycord @Mauve @Destructus Kloud
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TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Omen's Coffee House | FEELING: Refreshed, Productive​
Audence leans against the rough, concrete exterior of the Omen Public Fitness Center with his phone reflecting social media web-pages into his tired eyes. Though he didn't work today, being one of those lucky few who are regularly off on the weekends, he stopped by to maintain his own exercise routine. Without structure and schedule, he's a mess, so he's careful not to rest except for on Sundays and Wednesdays. Only Sundays and Wednesdays.

Seeing the time, he decides he'll make a visit to the café that's just down the road, greeting residents with the savory aroma of freshly ground coffee and lightly glazed donuts and other tasty pastries; though, he lacks a favor of sweets, so, usually, he partakes in a large black coffee and that's it. That and maybe some oatmeal without the fancy additives because raisins suck.

Moments later, he's put his phone away and is stepping through the café's double-doors with searching eyes, hands tucked down into their respective pants-pockets. He glances about the lobby, then beyond the counter, looking for someone--a girl. She works here as a barista. For how long, Audence wouldn't know because he's never asked. He just knows her name by the tag on her apron, and she knows him, too, because he's here every other day. In fact, all of the employees recognize him when he walks in, save for the newer ones, but they always come to eventually.

@WolfSol @Akio Chikara @LiviathRose @TerrinX @NightMoves @Cracker @Mauve @Dizzycord @Destructus Kloud
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◢ Kitty ◤


TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Omen's Coffee House | FEELING: Calm and Collected, Slightly flustered, Tired

Valori's throat was warm as so was her stomach as the Pumpkin Spice spread its heat through her body. She hated that it tasted so good, not wanting to be labeled for her drinking habits she often just said she drank black coffee if anyone asked. Quietly the girl brewed some cups for a few customers before being put at the front desk. Feeling the cool breeze and definite air of fall having begun. Last night Valori had to bring out the extra blankets. It was gonna be a hard winter, she could tell from experience. Aside from that, the tall girl had made considerable savings, being quite frugal with her funds. Luckily working at the Omen wasn't bad, she didn't really have to do much or talk to as many people as you'd think at it's always the same faces, rarely anyone to catch her off guard, except for Riley, name only known from coffee orders, whom Valori was quitely eyeing from her post. The woman was beautiful and seemed quite confident but outside of getting her order a few times, they never talked, and she doubted they ever would. Anyway, the anxiety was a bit too great especially since the things people said about Riley made her seem a bit unapproachable. Though to Valori, the redhead seemed nice enough.

The jingle of the door brought her back to attention. The weather outside was getting progressively worse which meant people were often leaving rather than entering and it caught her off guard. Looking up she saw it was Colton and immediately shot a look at her co-workers who immediately being chitting about how he's the "fuckboy from the gym" which only confused and annoyed Valori. He came in a few times a week and wasn't mean at the least, and besides, she never went to the gym so the comments she heard never really resonated with her. "Good afternoon..." She froze...Should she say, sir? Or maybe call him by his name? For Valori remembering customers, names wasn't hard but now she simply didn't know what the correct response should be but either way, time was running out. "Col-Sir...Um, what would you like today?" She said trying to put on brave 'I know how to human' face on.

@Danoram @LiviathRose



Ross Deluca

The redhead sat in his cruiser with his legs perched upon the steering wheel, left leg crossed over the other. One hand held a chocolate glazed donut while the other typed away on the laptop in his passenger seat. As he had been in this situation many times before, he had honed his one handed typing skills and was progressing on his report rather quickly. He had been one of the first police officers to respond to the awful car accident that had happened that morning, and the chief said he needed the report asap. This type of thing didn't happen in such a rural town very often, and the media was begging for more information.

Ross let out a deep sigh as he typed out the gruesome details. "Poor kid...taken before he had a chance..." He said as he clicked the button to finalize his report and reclined his head back onto the headrest. Being a police officer was a double edged sword. There were times where he felt like a hero: Pulling people from flipped cars, saving women from abusive husbands, coaxing the suicidal away from ledges...

But there were other times as well. Those in which he did everything in his power, but it wasn't enough. "You can't save everyone" People would say, trying to make him feel better.

"Bullshit..." Ross whispered angrily as he ran fingers through messy locks. He shifted his eyes left to look out the window just in time to spot a welcome sight: Colton Reeds, the fitness instructor with the muscles of a Greek god. They'd exchanged a few words; not much really, mostly just police questioning and such, but something about him just made Ross feel at least a little bit better. The officer exited the cruiser in an attempt to go talk to the handsome man, but was too late as he had already entered the coffee shop.

"Should I go in?" Ross wondered mentally. He was supposed to keep an eye out for muggers, but there was still a little time before it got truly dark...right?

The indecision froze Ross and left him standing outside his cruiser in the light drizzle that had just started up. Unconsciously and habitually, he bit his lip in thought. He wasn't normally so indecisive and shy, but something about that guy made it so hard to think straight...


Eliminating the Heart

Riley Bakker

Mood: Uninterested, Tired
Case: None
With: No One (Open)
Location: PD

"Hey Bakker, you hear about that wreck today?" a masculine voice called out. Riley was preoccupied working on some paperwork from an earlier case that she closed, and without looking back up, "Yeah, not a case though. Simple tragedy, it was unfortunate for those kids." The man didn't respond back as he walked off with a coffee in hand. She was tired working a double shift and with a dreaded sigh she leaned back in her chair closing the file in hand. Work was never easy, she thought this was something she wanted to do growing up, but now she's not even sure if her heart was in the right place. Getting up, she unpinned her hair from a bun letting it flair out and walked over to one of the women that sat near the filing area. "Here you go Ms. Peterson. Have a good night, okay?"

Riley headed out unbuttoning her shirt a bit, she always felt she was suffocating with her 'lack of' uniform. But with her recent depression, just about anything would make her feel like she was suffocating at this point. Riley left the Police Department heading out towards her car, unlocking the door and taking a seat inside pausing for a moment. She let the silence wrap around her like a blanket letting her eyes close for a moment before heading out. Calm music played in her head for a moment, humming its notes as she opened up her eyes starting up her Honda Civic. Riley had no real destination as home wasn't really 'home'. Her small house was nearly empty after her last relationship that went to flames in quietly extinguished in silence. No one knew what happened, nor would she even talk about it. Though it has been some time now, people more than likely forgot about it.

The one thing that bothered her most was the little star in her darkest night was also gone. Her greatest friend, her biggest love. It's not that they couldn't go see them but, with work, it was nearly impossible. At least she knew they were safe with her family. As she drove down the road, she went past the Omen Coffee Shop and noticed Deluca was standing outside his cruiser as the rain began to start. "What is that kid doing out in the rain?" She wondered as she drove past. Even though Deluca was older than she was, she still saw him as a kid along with many others. Before her way home, Riley made a pit-stop at a little Asian restaurant to order some food to go as she waited in line for her food trying not to let her thoughts plague her.


Akio Chikara

A Worthy Adversary
Mark Gordon

1568490622079.png "Remember to practice your harmonic minor scale up the neck Jim. Also practice the arpeggios up and down the neck as well. Next week, I'll show you how to incorporate them into a freestyle solo" . Jim began to write down reminders into his notebook"Got it teach. thanks for all the tips". "See you next week" Mark said as he let Jim finish his notes, then ended the call. Mark had finally finished up the last of his daily lessons. Jim was one of his best students, a 16 year old guitar player from Washington. Most of his students came from different states, sometimes even different countries. The amount of people needing lessons in this town was not very big, so Mark took advantage of the internet to compensate.

The life of a musician can sometimes be a long and hard one. Mark had to work all day all week, with only one day off. Every day he had 3-5 students across all skill levels, all learning different instruments, all wanting to learn different things. Lucky for them, Mark had the knowledge and skill to play and teach most instruments. Music was his life, and even though it was hard, he wouldn't change it for the world. Marks work day was from 10:00 am to 5:30 pm, and made enough for him to live quite comfortably for $30 per one hour lesson. It was not the highest paying job in the world, but it was enough for him to have his own place and live with some luxuries.

Aside from lessons, Mark also had jobs at the Omen's Coffee House and Club Stryker. During the week he would preform at Omens, and on weekends he would preform at Stryker. Mark loved preforming, and it was very relaxing after a long day teaching students. His gig at Club Stryker started at 7, so Mark had time to kill. He decided it would be a good idea to head down and get a coffee at Omen's, since he would be up late and needed to stay awake. Grabbing his guitars and keyboard, he loaded them up into car and headed out.



❛ Ain't nobody bringing us... ❜
Andreas Irving
" You're such a killjoy. "

Location: Omen's Coffee House
Mood: Indifferent
Interactions/Tags: None
Outfit: X
Small, quiet, careful footsteps hit the pavement below as hands curled around a set of black earphones. Andreas Irving, the man currently strolling along, loved the job that was pertaining to his current mannerisms, don't get him wrong- he got payed well, chose his own hours- being a D.J had its benefits- but he swore to god, if he has to listen to 'Closer' one more time, he was gonna lose his will to ever D.J again- and it took a lot to suck the will out of him. He'd had the line 'so baby pull me closer' running through his head for at least three weeks. He made a note to himself: when you're feeling down, at least you can't be any more shit than 'The Chainsmokers'. He pounded another affirmation into his brain, one of his few positive ones: we all have different preferences. He swiped his tongue against his lips, feeling dry skin upon contact. He realized he probably needed to get something to drink before he got fully dehydrated. A bloody nose was the last thing he needed right now.

He ran a hand through his dyed white hair and raven black roots that were slowly sprouting from the crown of his head, his fingers ghosting across one of his ears as he fidgeted. Speaking of his ears: their ringing could rival the bell of the Notre Dame. He could only pray Quasimodo would fucking run his hunchback out of his ears. Another downside to his job was that it caused his ears to ring mercilessly, plus, his hearing was pretty shit- his day was basically a chorus of 'what's and 'sorry, I didn't catch that's. His arms were strained from all their small and quick movements, so he rolled his shoulders back a bit to support his joints. His hands were particularly sensitive- they were already used to move rough material, so they were achy a lot of the time. He clutched the coffee shop's door and opened it, his footsteps less calm and more irritated as he saw the upcoming line. He inwardly groaned, his impatience taking a front as he tried his damnedest to wait patiently for his turn to order.

He sighed in relief when he finally got hid turn, ordering an iced coffee. He needed something cold. When he got his order after a fair ten minutes, he walked out and left. He didn't really have any reason to make small talk with any of the employees on shift; he was a well known face, sure, being a D.J at Club Stryker, but he didn't find any entertainment in idle chitchat with people working dead end jobs they probably didn't like, anyway; plus, they probably already got enough small talk to fill up a week for a non-barista. People could call him an asshole all they pleased, but he couldn't exactly care- he didn't care for many things. He sipped his coffee as he walked to his apartment, traveling up a few flights of stairs to reach his destination.

He got into his room, checking the time to make sure he wouldn't be late for his next shift. Club Stryker: his main performance spot. He wasn't exactly anonymous- after all, he'd let his real name slip out here and there, but his D.J name was his go to, and at clubs, he much preferred to be referred to as that. He grabbed his phone, typing in the passcode he'd memorized. He looked at the news of a crash, and frowned: that poor family. Must've been devestating, huh? He went to look at his playlist he'd planned for his next set, minus the requests he'd get (which, admittedly, would probably be shit anyway). Inherently negative: Andreas Irving, at your service.

Destructus Kloud

I ship SquidxTrump
Sven Hawthorne
(Outside Mark's House)

"Oh. I found him."

The day had been a typical pre-Autumn refreshment for Sven. The ticklish cold had been a recurring motif over the past week, a bittersweet reminder that his summer of fun had come to an end. Well, the summer part had ended anyway. There was plenty of fun to be had in town for a guy like him. Prospects looking promising, finances looking excitingly stable, girls approaching him at least once a street; it'd be a sin to say that the perfect day did not belong to the perfect man.

That is, that's what everyone but Sven thought.

Looking around in a confused manner, the young model tried to discern where it was that he needed to be. Rumour had it that there was an extremely talented muscian living right here in town, and he even gave out lessons to those that wanted to learn. In fact, Sven was pretty sure he'd seen the guy play gigs at the club he'd take his latest girl to every week. A quick online search laid bare an advertisement welcoming all, even overseas, to sign up to the man's classes. Sven had considered just messaging the guy online, but it was good to show his face around town and the musician's place was apparently not even that far from Omen's Coffee Shop, an establishment the model had found himself visiting quite often recently. Sven rarely visited the same place more than once in the space of a week as his agent had told him it would count as free publicity for the business, but it genuinely was a nice place to be.

Of course, he had exceptions. The club, for example. Brinlee was a good friend of his now, and she appreciated the extra reputation his presence gave the place. He appreciated the occassional free drink. It proved doubly so for his line of work, but being well connected certainly paid off. Any influencer needed an outlet to spew their opinion out onto the influenced, after all. Well, it wasn't that sinister, so perhaps that was just his studies talking. Ruffling the fur of his hood as if to shake off both the cold air and his distracted thoughts, Sven was beginning to give up on finding his elusive soon-to-be teacher. Sven was a self-taught pianist, but he could only claim himself to be at grade four, or thereabouts. He'd never taken a test or received formal teaching, but he'd practised by himself and read up on the theory. As cool as it sounded to the women that he had taught himself to play, there was only so far one could go before professional help was required. And so here he was today...

"Meandering around town aimlessly, like I always do..."

His introspectivity was cut short when he rounded a corner and bumped into someone who appeared to have been in the middle of loading stuff into his car. Exclaiming in surprise, Sven couldn't quite keep his balance and stumbled backwards, barely catching himself against the car parked next to the other man's. Regaining his composure, Sven was about to launch into a practised honest-to-goodness apology when he noticed who it was he had actually bumped into.

"Say, aren't you the guy advertising pianist lessons online?"

@Akio Chikara

Akio Chikara

A Worthy Adversary
Mark Gordon

Mark was a little shook by the gentlemen who had just bumped into him, but managed to regain his footing and remain standing. He then looked up to what seemed to be a collage student, with brown hair, hazel eyes, and dressed really well. He somewhat recognized the man, but he couldn't quite figure out from where. "Eh, it's a small town. I've probably seen his face before" Mark thought to himself. "If your referring to my Marks Music School ad circling the web, then yes" Mark said, loading his vintage tube amp into the trunk of the car. Huh, someone finally from town has seen his ad. It had been years since he taught a local. "I do offer piano lessons all the way up to grade 6" It was the furthest he got to before he decided to invest more of his time into other instruments. But Mark didn't just teach anyone. He needed some more information."Whats your name my friend, and what are your reasons for wanting to learn piano?"

@Destructus Kloud

Destructus Kloud

I ship SquidxTrump
Sven Hawthorne
(Outside Mark's House)

"Sven. Sorry about knocking into you, I should have been looking where I was going."

Internally, the model's metaphorical eyebrows raised in mild curiosity. He didn't recognise him? He supposed he shouldn't be so assumptive, it wasn't like he was a world famous model or anything. It was a pleasant surprise nonetheless. It had gotten quite taxing lately having to overplay the 'Mr Perfect' facade whenever someone realised who he was. Not that he minded the attention. Not at all...

As a further token of his apology, Sven stepped forward and picked up one of the guitars resting against Mark's car and helped him load it into the vehicle. He smiled as he did so, trying to seem amicable in nature. He couldn't exactly tell this man the real reason he wanted to learn to play the piano; he was probably some kind of elitist that only agreed to teach those with promise or that he personally approved of. It was the nonchalant questioning that had tipped him off. Sven liked to pride himself on being able to read people, which was partly the reason he'd taken up psychology at college, so he found it fun to figure people out and then...

"I've been teaching myself for a while now as a hobby and I've been enjoying myself since,"

Lies. This was necessity.

"But I think I've come as far as I can without real professional help. I've never taken an exam, but I'd like to say I'm roughly grade four."

He laughed bashfully as if he were aware that his self-assessment of his skills was perhaps a bit generous. Of course, it was easy for anyone to say they were anything. Sven had spent a while practising to sound convincing like the hyper-social freak he was and prided himself on his good poker face. There was a lot going on in his head that sometimes worried him, such as his avid interest in psychology, and at the very least he wanted to feel as though he wasn't entirely vulnerable to social probing. This was his battlefield, the least he could do was arm himself.

"I know we've only just met, but would you perhaps like to grab a coffee at Omen's Coffee House? It's not too far away and the service is great."

@Akio Chikara
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remember to scroll~
Sara Thompson

It was the mewling of her kitten, Loaf, that roused Sara from her dreamless sleep. The dainty feline, with its wispy chocolate fur, perched atop her chest with a look that spoke volumes. Right, she'd gotten home rather late last night... she hadn't fed it. The raven-haired woman smiled apologetically as she carefully plucked the kitten from her chest before sitting up. It was only when she held Loaf in her arms that she realized that before the cat, she'd dealt with three alarms. Three... all of which she'd snoozed and shut off to her heart's content. Sara spun around, dropping the cat on the bed, and scrambled for her phone. It had fallen to the floor, and when she reached for it, tapping the screen, 14:27 met her eyes.

"Shit, shit!" A mantra of curses left her as she rolled off the bed, grabbing the cellphone in the process, and hightailed it to the bathroom. She'd meant to wake up at eleven o'clock, but 2 o-clock was definitely nowhere close to eleven. That and her shift at Omen's one and only daycare had started hours ago. Granted, she'd been late before, and the daycare manager hadn't been that butt hurt over it; however, that had likely been because she had worked there since her senior year in high school. That and the first time it had happened had been the first time, something she had vehemently promised would not happen again. Well, that's what she got for promising the inevitable.

Blessed with short hair and the abhorrence of makeup, Sara tousled her black strands with a quarter-sized dollop of mouse and yanked the Omen daycare signature shirt and pants in barely fifteen minutes. She'd hurriedly fed Loaf and ran out the door right at three.

It was when she'd halfway crossed town that she'd checked her phone again. Late or not, there should have been a call or something because no one else was scheduled to work today. So why--it's Saturday you moron. Sara skidded to a stop, almost tripping over her own feet. There was a double take, and sure enough, Saturday beamed up at her right over the Loaf infested lockscreen. "It's Saturday... why is it Saturday? I could've swore it was Thursday." She shook her head, grumbling as she slipped the cell into a back pocket. Honestly, she should've known herself better. Forgetting things, all except names and faces, was a bad habit of hers so knowing that, she should've double checked before panicking and running about like a chicken with its head cut off. Oh well, at least she wasn't late. Nevertheless, the idea of trying to be optimistic didn't calm the scowl that had taken refuge on her face. True, she wasn't late, but she'd scampered around for nothing. Sleeping was a favorable past time after all, but there was no sense in going back home, at least not for now.

So with a sigh that reverberated with agitation, she made the short walk to Omen's single coffeehouse. With how the day had just started, she definitely needed to embrace her "inner white girl" with coffee. Besides the library, it was the one of the few places that she didn't mind sitting at for a good while. That is, if the line wasn't too long.
@WolfSol Time: 4pm-6pm | Location: Omen's Coffeehouse | Feeling: Panicked, Irritated | Mentions: N/A



Words on a Page become the Heart
Brinlee and Benton Stryker
The soft sound of Francis Forever echoed through the vacant space of the bar. But a louder tone of singing filled the void of quietness. The melodic voice attempted to stay in sync with the original artist as they sang together. A lone woman behind the counter had her auburn hair tied up into a messy bun that was becoming even messier as she swayed to and fro. It was late in the afternoon, close to evening, which meant that the Stryker Club was going to be opening soon. The hours of operation of the business should be from 1pm to 2 am. But everyone in town knew that really the hours of operation coincided with the manager's(/co-owner) schedule. If Brinlee woke up at 11am that morning then it would open at 1pm, but any later and it may differ in the day or mood. Or if one of Brinlee's employees nags her enough to open the bar.

But for the most part Brinlee tries to stay committed to the time. After all she enjoyed seeing everyone. Although there was one person in particular that brought her other feelings beside joy, Benton, her always sometimes overbearing brother. Which as she thought about him he happened to appear, swinging the bar door wide open, "Brinlee! Did you sleep in today?"

"Nice to see you too bro." She didn't even flinch in her process of cleaning from his scolding. "It's a slow day anyway. Business doesn't usually pick up till close to 9pm. We have to wait for everyone to be filled up with coffee and sweets from Omen's Coffee House before they think about coming here. It can help influence people to buy more drinks, maybe dance more, perhaps meet their special person." Benton was not impressed with her words though, a frown decorating his face. On the other hand Brinlee had a smirk on hers.

"That is not how business works Brin. You need--"
"Yeah, yeah. I need to be responsible, punctual, and mature. Blah blah blah. See, this is why your the least liked Stryker," Brinlee had finally turned around to face him. The words that left Brinlee's lips shocked Benton. He didn't know if he should feel anger or something else. It was clear that Brinlee had left her brother speechless which she simply laughed at.

"Here," taking advantage of his silence Brinlee pushed forward some cash and a small note over to him, "I was thinking of getting some coffee before I open. But since you're here you can get it for me! And yes when you get back we'll talk about the business hour and what not." Benton wanted to feel angry but he couldn't help but be slightly impressed by how she completely flipped the situation, "Fine."
"Love you!" The sound of the door slamming shut was the only response Brinlee received.

People, people, and more people. It seemed like the whole town was meeting up at the Omen's Coffee House. A small line had formed in front of the counter, Benton taking the second spot closest to the cashier, directly behind a tall, fit, blonde man. Still feeling some remnants of annoyance from his confrontation, Benton kept his gaze downwards, away from other's faces. He had tried to keep himself occupied with his smartphone but after a few minutes he got bored of it, so he looked at the money Brinlee gave him. Then he remembered that she had a note attached to it. Knowing his sister it was probably nothing important, so Benton decided to read it.

Miss you babe! Come see me! - Brinlee <3

There was no indication as to whom this was addressed to, but once again Benton knew his sister all too well. From all the coffee shop's employees there was only one person Brinlee really ever talked to in that manner, Valori. Which was weird as Benton took note that the cashier was the one and only dark-haired barista that she was great friends with. It was as if Brinlee had some sixth sense that Valori was going to be the cashier at the time.



TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Omen's Coffee House, Ordering | FEELING: Awkward but Alright​
Audence sees Valori ahead and approaches the counter, nodding a smile in her direction as he does. Not exactly the shy type, but careful with his words because he doesn't want to come off as overconfident, he waits before speaking.

"Aud-Sir...Um, what would you like today?" the woman asks him, seeming unsure, which he notices.

He snickers under his breath and tells her, "You can call me Audence. It's fine. Too many people only call me Vālor, so... It's nice to hear my first name once in a while." As he says this, he manages to avoid eye-contact by fishing for his wallet, somehow embarrassed by his assertiveness and wondering if it's too much.

Pulling out a five-dollar bill, he looks upward at the menu board but the action is empty since he only ever orders a black coffee. And so he does today, placing the bill in the tip jar. "I guess, just the same thing... I don't know much of what this place has, so..." He gets his debit card and holds it out for Valori, adding, "Large size- Sorry..."

Too many times he hears a barista have to ask their customer what size drink they want, so he's made it a point for that to be the first thing he says upon each order. It slipped his mind this time, though. Probably a result of being nervous, not just by Valori's presence, but by the girls whispering and glancing at him from behind her. "You ever notice he only tips when it's Val?"--"Five-fucking-dollars? The fuck? Homegirl's my favorite to work with for exactly that reason. You know he tips ten when he orders food?"

He cannot hear them, but he senses that it's probably just lousy gossip. After all, his ex-girlfriend used to work here.

"Hey, Valori," one of the two approaches her. Audence shows a curious expression but remains patient, simply lowering his hand to the counter while still holding his card. The girl leans into Valori's ear, whispering, "Upsell the new pastries. I want to see something..." Meanwhile, Audence glances over his shoulder at the guy behind him and offers an apologetic smile, "Register problems, I guess..."

@TerrinX @Mauve (Those in the Coffee House: @WolfSol )
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TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Outside of the Coffee House | FEELING: Cheerful​
Camaree stands in the mirror, bathroom stalls behind her, with a cheerful smile and a hand on her cocked hip. She holds her breath, steadying the phone in her hand. The screen focuses in on her, then the shutter of the camera tells her that she can relax, and she exhales dramatically.

"Okay, I'm done," she says aloud to seemingly no one, but then another girl comes out from one of the stalls and rolls her eyes. "You're ridiculous, girl..." she laughs.

Camaree laughs with her, "I know but I like this outfit..."

"Who's it going to?"

"Benton," Camaree mumbles as her thumbs tap across her phone, typing something--a text that reads: "Look, I got bangs now! Show Brinlee, please." Her friend sags in the shoulders to hear this, and she groans, "Why are you so lucky? You've got the grades, the looks, and the connections... How'd you even get to know them?"

"Get to know who?"

"The Strykers, fool."

Camaree blinks, thinking for a moment and moving to leave the bathroom. Her classes are through for the day, so she's ready to walk the town, perhaps visit the gym for its motivational properties. Then again, she already goes there three days a week for fitness training with Audence Vālor, the douche-bag druggy who puts on a fake persona to keep his record clean. I mean, from what she's experienced, he's kind of nice but that doesn't change the fact that his "hard work" is all false credited. She's seen the meds.

"I think, my grandpa...? He doesn't live here anymore but I'm pretty sure he owns the land that Club- or the Stryker Club is on... That and a lot of other commercial buildings. I don't know, though. Our families are just kind of affiliated."

Fast forward fifteen minutes--Camaree is walking briskly down the sidewalk with her bag over her head in hiding from the rain, which is only a light sprinkle but leave it up to her to act dramatic. She keeps straight, making for the Coffee House up ahead until noticing a familiar face just across the road from the mentioned destination, bringing her to a slow stop during which she waves a hand in the air and hollers, "Officer Deluca! Are you on break?" she asks him, adding without concern for an answer, "You wanna get some coffee? I want your discount." Ah, of course. All lawful authorities get a generous percentage off of their orders at the cafe to show appreciation for their bringing justice to the town.

@NightMoves (Ross) @Mauve (Benton)
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Tyler Abernathy.png
TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Andreas' Apartment | FEELING: Giddy​
Tyler adjusts his hearing aids in both ears as he ascends the stairs to a friend's apartment--Andreas Irving's--who isn't even home. He enters the place without thinking twice about whether it'd be locked or not, because let's be honest, does Andreas really look like the type to be responsible or even care? Exactly.

Tyler makes his way throughout, looking for the guy as if he's hiding somewhere, then mentally confirms that there's no one here before rummaging through the nearly empty fridge and snack-cabinet. There's nothing to suit his appetite, so he gives up and finds his way to the bedroom where he rolls around in the bed and takes a thirty-minute nap.

Sleep is probably this dude's only hobby.

That and annoying the shit out of Andreas, who just entered the room. Coming to the realization of this, hidden under the blanket, you'd think he was never asleep at all by how quickly he shoots up out of the bed and jumps to his shorter friend, who he tightly throws both of his arms around and greets in a flat, smoky voice, "Wa-ss-up, baby? Ya, I had my shoes on the whole time, yo. Might wanna clean your sheets, too," Tyler blows in Andreas' ear before quickly backing away from him and sitting on the bed again.

One of his aids had fallen out during the jump, so he starts making a mess of the place trying to find it, or else his hearing will be off. Even with it, his and Andreas' conversations are comical with how many times they have to repeat themselves. "Yo, helpmefindmythingy."

@Dizzycord (Andreas) Btw, I had no idea Andreas had trouble hearing when I made Tyler xD so I thought that was funny.


gæð a wyrd swa hio scel.


FEELING // bored, complacent
LOCATION // ibrary, 1st floor admin desk
WITH // n/a
TAG // n/a

They really needed to get some kind of clock. The library, cast in bright light and deep shadow by the setting sun, was a place where time seemed to stop. Like Homer's Lotus-Eaters, Gwendolen would lose track of time in the vast emptiness of the Omen local library. Especially on a day like Saturday, where guests stopped coming in at around 3pm sharp, and Gwendolen's responsibilities drifted off to nothingness. Now, she was out of coffee, sitting at the administration desk, staring off into the rows and rows of books that lacked flesh to accompany them.

She wouldn't be surprised if the recent crash deterred people from coming into the library at all. Pieces of "Do Not Cross" tape still stuck vengefully to the bushes that guarded the library's stone facade. Gwendolen, fortunately, had already gotten off work at the time of the crash. Her coworker, an elderly woman named Agnes who volunteered on evenings, was not so lucky. Rumor has it that she was the one to call the ambulance. And the first one to see the deceased infant. Gwendolen wasn't surprised when she failed to receive a call that morning about Agnes' absence for the day.

Nevertheless, Gwen buried herself in absent-minded time wasters, using the library's ancient Dell to repeatedly click the refresh button, hoping her only clock would go faster. She briefly considered testing herself in a game of "recite the Dewey Decimal System"... but that seemed to push her own nerd alert a little too far past reasonable limits. WIth a sigh, she got up to stretch, feeling the muscles tense and then relax within her tender back. She'd once heard that sitting wasn't a natural state of being for humans, and was bad for the body, but horrible posture came with the job. Thankfully, she the only bachelors she had to impress were the elderly men in the bingo club whose wives had already passed away. She wouldn't quite call any of them silver foxes, but some of the more... overzealous nursing home women had told her that Mr. Morgan was a riot in bed. Joy oh joy.

Stepping away from her desk, Gwen's dark brown hair cloaked her shoulders in night. Her fingers traced over the spines of the book cart that rested by the wall, covered in books that were either reserved or meant to be put back. The different textures and fabrics of books new and old danced underneath her fingertips, a wisp of library dust spiraling into the air as explored. Section 900.... Section 900... Ah. There we go. Her favorite section - History. Gwendolen, in many ways, was the town's unofficial historian. Most citizens of Omen would argue that the town doesn't have a history - and if it did, it likely wouldn't be worth remembering. Gwendolen disagreed. All history, good or bad, was worth remembering. And all she really did was catalog the weekly local newspaper.

Interesting. The book that rested in Gwen's open palms was a book on Catherine de Medici. Though she didn't find Italian and French rulership to be the most fascinating parts of European culture... She had an hour to kill before her shift ended and nothing better to do. Gwendolen plopped down onto her rolling chair, her butt pressing into the worn cushion and fingers prying open the old bibliography. With a sigh, she began to read.

I came, I saw, and if I don't do something to wake me up, I go the fuck to sleep.

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◢ Kitty ◤


TIME: 4p - 6p | LOCATION: Omen's Coffee House | FEELING: Giddy, Very flustered, Nervous as Hell

Everything happened so fast Valori barely had time to comprehend what was happening. Lucky for the green-eyed girl she'd been doing this job for years and rung it up on auto-pilot. Black Coffee for Mr.Colton "Don't worry, we use regular cup sizes at Omens, you've been here before I thought you knew." She chuckled cutely as she internally screamed only to have one of her frankly, bitchy co-workers, a high schooler who obviously didn't like working at all tell her to try and sell the poor man something else. Way too nervous to say know Valori continued "Um...W-would you like a Pastry si-Colton?" She added quickly. "I uh, um, take your time!" She stammered out before quickly sidestepping to the next register and beckoning Benton over.

"Long time no see, how's Brinlee?" She said seeming much more normal reactions and demeanor. She smiled as she took his order before popping back to the other register and ordering whatever Colton chose and jumping back to Benton "I really hope she's doing well, things should be slowing down now that summer's over." She commented almost pondering to herself. Brinlee was Valori's rock and she'd probably go insane without her. Also, she tended to drink a lot when they were around each other made socializing easier. Unlike her father Valori wasn't a mean drunk, if not a big soft stuffed animal when hammered, but for now, she was a sober confused Barista.

@Danoram @Mauve


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