IC Black City

[SilverWisp]

hh

hh

AVORAN

Drip...drip...drip...The blasphemous black ichor-esque ink dripped from the swirling portal that closely followed Avoran as he carefully and deliberately directed the enormous brush with considerable effort. Hours had been counted in the soft ticks and click of the wall clock that now rested against the pile of luggage and clothing which had been tossed into the hallway since the rug had been wrenched from the corners of the room and rolled away. Now, having already laid three of the four ritual circles onto two opposite walls and the ceiling, Avoran's had become well and properly splotched and stained by the ink: it ran into every line and groove of his muscles, pooled into the gaps of his fingernails and plastered his hair to his head. The handle of the pen, which partially laid across Avoran's chest and shoulder, was colored in an uneven silver and bore the shadowy impression of the fingers of a black spirit whose entire form was either so massive or so terrible that it had never been perceived in its entirety. Yidra had, on many an occasion just like this, speculated on what was attached to the great hand which held the silver stem that drank endlessly from the infinite dark of the sky. Avoran had never seen more than the portion of the brush that he used to create and re-create the ritual circles, so the spirit's supposing was most useful in filling in the empty air between strokes.


Far as any of us can remember, it's always been writing...or drawing. Never seen it myself, not even with my gift. Every time I've tried to fly to those mountains, they never get any closer. Every time I use the sight, my vision is clouded. What's the big deal anyway?" Yidra clicked its beak sharply as if the mere notion of the pact sight being obstructed was quite irritating, Black on black. Probably can't even see what its doing. Could you imagine? You're the curious one out of the two of us, don't you ever wonder what that brush paints when we're not the ones doing it? Oh! Those last two aren't right. Go back. Do it again. And do it right this time!


A dull, heavy and, somehow, perceptibly annoyed pressure stopped Avoran in mid brush stroke. The muscles in his thighs and arms tightened as the ink-drenched tip of the brush began to retrace its path along the ritual circle, pulling the mistaken symbols up from the wood, along the bristles and into its belly. A labored sigh passed Avoran's lips as control was passed back to the magi. The truth was (one even beyond Yidra's knowledge), while he hadn't seen more than the brush itself, with every mistake he had felt the incredible force of the unknowable something that had, since time was remembered, painted endlessly on those unreachable cliffs. It was, in part, an alien sensation. But, as strange as being pushed around by an unseen hand was, there was a familiar emotion that Avoran had immediately clocked as an artist's frustration. "Sometimes...when it gets quiet. When it's just the brush, the ink and me. It must be something great, you know? Maybe frustrating sometimes. A detail that it can't get quite right. That's why it let's us borrow it. It has to take a break from whatever it's doing out there. Out where even you can't see, it leaves the canvas alone. Even if just for a couple of hours."


Yidra tilted its head and eyed Avoran curiously, You wouldn't be trying to suggest something, its tail-feathers rustled, a kindred spirit? Two artists just misunderstood? Imagine that! Remember, you're just transcribing my instructions. It's a copy! You know what, I bet that's what it's doing out there. Endlessly copying from something else. Hah! Maybe we should make a new deal? The two of you can paint in the dark fo- Yidra paused and hopped across the floor to a stop a few paces away from Avoran, What now?


"Huh? Oh," Avoran muttered as he released his hold on the brush handle, "nothing. It's done. Longer than the last one...19 symbols longer or so," his focus retraced the details of each of the four ritual circles had been painted onto the walls, ceiling and floor. Quite unintentionally, Yidra's petty chiding had come wrapped in an unpleasant truth: more often than not, Avoran had done little more than copy the design and sequence of the ritual circles down to the last detail. He had intended to be more intentional about the process with the purpose of learning more than what Yidra could be bothered to explain. Why do you ask? It wouldn't interest you. You wouldn't ask a vampire the particulars about their blood-line would you? Ok, maybe YOU would. But that's besides the point. This is just a formality, what comes next is what matters. Avoran hadn't bothered to push back on the spirit's logic. Instead, he nodded in the moment and tried to make note of what he was doing and, much to his surprise, it turned out that he was retaining more than he'd actively recalled. But what about the two completely stand-alone symbols? Those would have to be explained. Wouldn't they?

19? 25? 40? Who cares? It does what we need it to do. Besides, you should be grateful. I added something that will make your...education go a bit more smoothly. But first, Yidra said as it hopped over the lines of the intricately detailed inner ring and the broader strokes of the outer ring, return the brush and finish the job. There's much to do. So much to do.

Avoran murmured a phrase and, as if called home by an expectant master, the brush slid up his body, pulling most of the excess ink that had dripped and coalesced on the floor, that had stained his skin and matted his hair, up and into the portal above, disappearing into the black. But a moment later, the swirling portal circled into nothingness as if the plug on a drain had been yanked from the bath. Teeth clenched, Avoran rolled his shoulders and worked at the knots roughly before shaking out his arms. The carpeting and the wall (and ceiling) paper could wait until the next morning. Like Yidra said, there was much to do.

​

"There...that should do it," Avoran said with a slight nod, "order forms are live. Pre-order forms? Sure, why not. Those too," he mused as he save the final round of updates on his laptop, "a little bit of excitement for the new clientele."

​

「 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[Lulunopia]

~ Silas ~

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS​

Loud chatter sounded around him, their conversations melding into a medley of noise. It annoyed him seeing people speak louder and louder just to hear each other. Only for others to get louder as well. 'Monkey see, monkey do,' Silas thought to himself as he pulled out his phone, sending a quick message to Gideon. He needed to make sure the man wasn't coming into town soon. For a while now Gideon has been visiting him more than the other way around.

So, here he was, standing in a crowded train station glaring at any were that walked toward him. A habit he has gotten into and finds rather hard to break after what happened to his eye. Then again he was stubborn like that. A buzzing in his pocket would stop that train of thought as Silas pulled out his phone;

Snake:
Nearly ate shit trying to mop the office, you? And I don't know, I've successfully avoided having to visit my parents for three months. Why don't you come visit me?

Sighing Silas felt slightly bad for not having visited him. Well today he was gonna start changing that. Quickly typing and sending: Can't complain beyond the people around me being annoying. Pausing a second before sending: I was planning on visiting this month…way to ruin the surprise

"NOW BOARDING TRAIN TO NEW TOKYO CITY"

Putting his phone away Silas looked up and smirked, time to surprise Gideon.

@wren. ​

 

[Dusk]

JAX

"Everyday?" Jax questioned through a breathy laugh, both amused and horrified at the thought. "Wouldn't you run out of things to write?" His amusement lasted another second before he slipped into contemplation.

"Hm." His suggestion had been a momentary musing but Jax found himself pondering the idea in earnest. He imagined himself retrieving a fine letter from his mailbox — something special amongst the bills and adverts. As much as safety was a matter of concern when it came to Jax's decision to keep his residence private, he wondered if it would be worth it. Truthfully, he had to admit he was being paranoid when it came down to it. What was he even protecting when it came to Halo?

Jax chuckled again, this time with a hint of embarrassment. He quickly pushed it down.

"Interested," he replied in an off-handed manner, playing it as cool as he could. "Something about them fascinated me as a child. I don't know why. I'm sure the reality won't live up to the expectation." Aeaea did sound like a lovely place to visit,

"Can my answer wait until the end of the night?" He asked as he brushed a piece of hair back behind his ear.

Although he left it open, Jax set his menu back onto the table as Halo started to speak. Jax's attention returned to his date as the other man spoke about the restaurant and its menu. His visit hadn't been recent, either, but Halo's age put recently into a different category entirely. Jax suspected he had been there the more recent of the two. He kept his own experience to himself as it felt like a trivial thing to share.

"I'll try that," Jax responded as Halo shared the foods he had previously ordered. Jax wasn't a picky eater and it was a lazy strategy of his to order the meal of his date whenever he was uncertain what he wanted. It wasn't a bad way to try new things — even if he wasn't sure about the tomato soup. Fig salad, however, sounded delicious.

"Unless you object," he added with a teasing smile.

「 @PavellumPendulum 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[Dusk]

KEATON

Keaton wasn't going to say anything else to Penny but he didn't have the chance either way as a customer entered the building. She was someone he didn't recognize, and Keaton left her and Penny to their discussion. He focused his attention on Jo. Cool as Penny was she lived in BC and it wasn't hard to pay her a visit whenever he wanted.

"Let me know if I can help or anything," Keaton said as he dropped himself facing the wrong way into a nearby chair, resting one arm and one elbow on the back of it. He was always happy to help out.

"Yeah," he replied to her question about his work. "Finally finished an annoyance of a customer's car. Made a case of everything." He waved a dismissive hand. "Glad to be rid of him." Technically, he still had to return the car but with it fixed he hoped it wouldn't be a big deal. Hoped.

Keaton sat forward in his chair to peer at Jo's tablet. "Whatcha workin' on?" Despite his effort, he couldn't quite get a view of the tablet from his position.

"I'm not gonna be a distraction am I?" He asked following his previous question. He doubted it, hell, she might've even wanted a distraction. She did invite him over and she wasn't the type to do that if she didn't want him there.

"Any plans for Halloween?" He questioned with a tilt of his head, a regular mannerism of his. "You dressing up?"

「 @Ghostie 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[MaryGold]

VINCENT ABBOTT
VAMPIR

LOCATION | INTERACTION | MENTIONS

There was something about the metallic smell of a freshly sharpened knife that brought those familiar excited tingles down one's spine and a placid smile. The blade was sharp enough to draw blood upon the lightest touch, clean and sharp enough to see a detailed reflection and deflect the ceiling light off. It was a finely crafted tool and a new one that Vincent had yet to use. Well, that would very soon be remedied as someone so kindly gave him the perfect opportunity to take it for a test run. The circumstances were not the happiest, but when were they ever?

Across from the knife-wielding criminal, Vincent Abbott, sat a bloodied vampire, bound, but not gagged. No, Vincent wanted to hear what he had to say before they proceeded to the real purpose of this meeting. It was the least he could do. There was no use in the man shouting, he knew better than thinking anyone would come to his aid. Not on Vincent's turf, not in Dionysus, tied to an old sturdy chair on the second-floor lounge. There was no point in even taking him to the backroom except to save the floor from being stained with blood.

There were comfortable seats provided for Vincent to sit back in as he looked over the provided tools. Though, only one had captured his eyes and attention in whole. He always had preferred knives over everything else.

Observing the weapon in his hand, Vincent softly hummed a happy tune -- that happy tune being Kidnap the Sandy Claws of all songs. "I do apologize," he said, breaking his own fluid hum. Yet, the look in his eyes indicated no feelings of remorse at all as he went on without hitch. "Just the other night I watched the Nightmare before Christmas. I put it on for Benjy," his dog and best boy there was. The way he spoke about the English Bulldog would have fooled any person into thinking he was a person instead of a small canine. "A few of the songs got stuck in my head." He chuckled, shrugging a single shoulder playfully.

Vincent looked back at the man with an amused smile. It was sure to be a chilling one to him. "I enjoyed it more than I thought I would. You know someone once called me Jack Skellington. Of course, now that I've seen the movie I'm certain that he made the comparison to make fun of my appearance." Even now, he couldn't help but roll his eyes at the memory, but it was quickly followed by a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. But now was not the time to recall and reminisce over the old argument.

"Anyway, enough about me, this is about you," Vincent smoothly climbed out of his cushy chair, knife still in hand. "You owe me money, Mario. But not only do you refuse to pay me, but you also disrespected me on top of it." Vincent sighed at the inconvenience.

"You raised the price," Mario grunted, sounding as tough as a bruised and bloodied man tied to a chair in front of his weapon-wielding captor could. Unfortunately, his defense wasn't a strong enough one for Vincent to release him.

"Well, duh," a third voice spoke up, belonging to Annabelle, Vincent's right hand. "Did you think it was going to stay the same after the value of the land Vince so kindly rented to you went up? Come on, Maurice."

"Regardless, you made a big show it, refused me my money, and hurt my poor messenger. And we can't have that, now can we?" Vincent approaches him, using the dull side of his blade to lift the man's chin and meet his gaze. "You're not scared now, but you will be." Mario swallowed. Vince held back a smile, pinching his lips. "This blade is alloy steel, but the tip ... it's silver. I'm sure you know what that means vampires like myself and you."

There it was, the fear he had been trying so hard to contain came tumbling out before Vince had even used his weapon. "I-I I'm sorry." His voice was shaking now. "I'll pay you your money, all of it. I swear, I'm sorry, Mr. Abbott."

"Oh, you will. But first," Vincent gripped his jaw tightly in his hand. "Open wide." He had to be made example of, Vincent did not like to take anyone's shit. Plus, he really wanted to test his new knife, it would have been a waste.

The tip of his knife light pressed against its victim's tongue, a light sizzling sound could be heard. But before it cut any deeper and further, a new voice made itself present, "Mr. Abbott, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the police are here."

Vincent pulled his knife to relieve Mario and whipped around to face the waiter. "The what?" Angry and flabbergasted. Who would dare call the police on Dionysus, on him? He quickly looked back to Mario and the man answered wordlessly with a quick shake of his head. "I'm coming down. Annie, I trust you can take it from here?"

"Of course, Vincent. Have fun." She chirped in her usually chipper and childish way.

"With the police?"

"Or not." That said, she pried the knife from his hands with some effort and handed him his topcoat before gently shoving him in the direction of the stairs. All the while, Vince racked his brain as to who might have been audacious enough to call the cops on him. Not even his worse enemies were foolish or daring enough to try it.

The second his feet hit the first floor, he raised his face and offered a "welcoming" smile to the boys in blue. "Good afternoon, officers. How can I help you?"

​

"Again, sorry for the trouble, Mr. Abbott," George apologized. Was it George? It didn't matter if remembered their names after this small encounter, what mattered was that he knew their badge numbers and that they were simply new fresh-minded recruits on patrol. Tenacious, but easy to deal with. "It must have been a false report." He was embarrassed, how cute.

"I'm sorry you had to waste your time here, but I'm glad it was easily resolved." And that they had no warrant to search the place. Why did he even pay the pockets of so many on the force if they couldn't even keep their men's noses out of his business at times like these? Still, Vince smiled and played the part until they were out of the door. "Have a good afternoon and be careful in this rain."

A few more niceties passed between them and they were gone as quickly as they came. Much to Vincent's relief and peace of mind. An exhausted and agitated sigh passed through his lips as he closed his eyes took a moment to himself.

There was no way of figuring out who made the call from the patrol officers. They only got orders, not names. One quick call to one of those paid pockets in the office would figure it for him, however. And that was just what he was going to do.

Vincent reached into the pocket of his coat and pulled out his cellphone. Just as he did, the square device vibrated in his hands and the alerting ping followed after. One swipe of his finger and the familiar name appeared on his screen. A text from Isiah. Vincent paused, snorted, and smiled involuntarily. What did the blonde pianist have to say now?

He took this moment to sit at the bar and rest his chin in the palm of his hands, using his fingers to hide his smile, as he opened up the text message. So, he was back in town? Vince was unsurprised. He had some semblance of an idea of what his tour included, and by some semblance, he knew the whole tour place from place. He simply didn't know what day, Isiah would be returning.

Vincent hummed softly, gazing at the text and the selfie along with it. It was a pretty picture, nothing he would tell Isiah, the man's ego was large as it was and he wouldn't want him assuming he was attracted to him at all. But, as pretty as it was, it was taunting. The whole text was, which was usual for Isiah. When weren't they taunting and bickering with one another?

And it struck him. Vincent shut his eyes and exhaled through his nose. That blonde, blue-eyed, bastard. He called the cops on him. Of course, he did. And now he was jeering him.

Immediately, Vincent rose to his feet and shoved his cellphone into his pocket. "August!" He called for the younger vampire. "You're in charge of the club, I have some business to take care of and I don't think things will be as busy tonight be prepare everything as usual. Tell Annie to wrap things up with Mario, opening time is in a few hours." He instructed the man zealously. "If you need me, call me. But I should be back before then."

He made his way to the exit and stopped the moment he opened the door and was reminded of the rain. The cool air sent shivers down his spine. He would need an umbrella.

​

He didn't want to leave the warmth of his car.

The rain had only picked up the money he slid into the back seat of his car and it hadn't calmed down the vehicle stopped in front of the far too familiar Fisher house. Outside the door was nothing but a cold and wet mess, the only thing that would keep him warm was the heat of his own anger. But he wasn't going to step out to get soaked to the bone without being sure he'd be let in first.

He pressed his leather-covered fingers against his temple and thought. Or at least tried to. Was this worth it? Yes, of course, it was. Vincent often let strong sheer emotions cloud his judgment, it was a weakness as much as it was a strength. His patience was not abundant.

"Wait here for me," he commanded his driver with sharp words and made a move to leave only to be stopped by the pinging of his cellphone in his pocket. Who was it now? It better not have been Annie or August, he hadn't been gone long enough for a text now.

Ripping off the glove from his hand he opened the text and met with a pleasant surprise. Anais. She was in town? Vincent's eyes lit up. What were the odds of that? He smiled, but it disappeared almost as fast as it appeared. He still has someone to address.

I'm sure you already know the answer to that. Come by as soon as you can, I'm always happy to see you. And he meant every word. There were few people Vince was close to, but perhaps, he was the closest to Anais. Maybe that was because in a roundabout way, they only really had one another near or far.

The text had been sent and Vincent cleared his throat, "I'll be going now," he announced and received a wordless head nod from his driver. There was nothing more that needed to be said. He opened his car door and pulled out his black umbrella, opening it to shield him from the rain. It did its job well.

He could have waited patiently and rung the gate, but again, Vincent's patience was not abundant. And he knew the code anyway, he had ears and some people had tongues that were loose under the influence. The more you know. So, a few pressed buttons, and the gates were open. It was sure to piss Isiah off. Good.

This rain was doing no good for health, nor was the cold. It boosted his motivation to quicken his pace to the door. And when he was there, he pressed the doorbell. He wasn't completely devoid of manners.

「 @wren. @peach 」​

 

[MaryGold]

AKIRA FLORES
VAMPIR

LOCATION | INTERACTION | MENTIONS

69 years old and he could not seem to find where on earth he had placed his journal. Perhaps he was getting old. But, really, what was old for a vampire? He was still called a young many by many others amongst his species and dealt with far fewer issues than the lot of them despite his temporary forgetfulness. It was not a cute quirk in the least. It was only increasingly stressful and frustrating as a whole. More so when it involved matters involving his work, work that was scheduled with the utmost importance that very day.

Akira search through his mess of a desk, clearing old and crumpled paper along with bottles of ink and chipped mugs. This was why they said a clean space, was a good space. But when it came to writing he was too immersed in his own work to pay any heed to the messes he created around him. And if his writing never gained any popularity, then he would have his desk to look back at to confirm that he was - is a writer.

Lo and behold, digging through his mess, Akira finally found the old notebook buried under several other books. He couldn't help the smile that spread across as he hold the book close to his chest and pulled it away only through the tea-stained pages (courtesy of his clumsy hands). Everything was as it should be, but he focused more on the last pages listing the date of his appointments with Edmund and the notes he had written down during or after. Small little lines such as; add more character exposition, don't sass in your head he can and does read that, rewrite notes on laptop, what is his smell, booze?, buy more ink, and it is rum, rum, sage flowers, leather, and dates.

All important things, obviously. He plucked his pen from his desk and quickly scribbled down another note. He doesn't eat at mealtime during work. And quickly after, buy dinner. With his final notes for the moment entered, he shut his notebook and slid it into his felt and leather messenger bag. He was going to be late for his own meeting if he didn't walk out any time soon.

As quickly as possible, he fixed his makeup and pulled his hair back into a single low hanging ponytail, letting just a few strands fall out to frame his face. Once his sweater was on and his bag over his shoulders, he briskly walked into the living room and pulled out his umbrella from the holder in the foyer. He heard it was to rain a little today.

​

It was going to storm. Akira did not have to be merfolk to know that. The gloomy pattern of the clouds and the ever-increasing pace of the drizzle that turned more and more into a rain told him that much. Whoever the weather forecaster was for the news channel needed to be reviewed, they had too many resources to get this wrong. A storm was just begging to follow after this act and Akira wondered if he would be able to get home before then or how bad it would be.

Luckily, the Silver Blood had brought his best umbrella. It may have been childish, but it was his favorite umbrella. All that was thanks to the Starry Night art on the inside while the outside was a midnight blue. He reached his hand outside the umbrella to catch a few raindrops with his free hand. Cold and wet, something he did not particularly mind compared to the dry and hot summer heat. This season was his favorite.

He only pulled back said to check his phone. His keen hearing allowed him to hear the familiar ding over the pitter-pattering of the rain he stood in. Are we still meeting tonight to discuss your manuscript? Edmund. Akira hummed softly to himself as he quickly typed out a reply.

I wouldn't miss it for the world.

No. No. That was far too enthusiastic for a work-related meeting.

Yes.

Very eloquent, very elegant. Akira clicked his tongue. Overthinking a text message with a yes or no answer is needed. He needed to return his Masters's degree in English. It was a mystery how had ever achieved it, to begin with.

Yessir ;)

No, perhaps he should -

"Here you are, sorry for the wait!" The new voice startled him out of his ridiculously convoluted thoughts.

"Oh, thank you. It smells delicious," Akira grinned at the food vendor.

He had known them for some while and it was the closest thing to home food that he could get in the city, aside from his own cooking, of course. It was not super fancy nor made with poor quality ingredients, so, he knew Edmund could eat it. It was French cuisine. As much as he would have liked to show off his chopstick using skills, his favorite Japanese place was too far and he was running thin on time.

As he reached from the paper bag, he remembered his hands were full. He stopped to look back at his phone and was stared back at the stupid smiley face message that had been sent. Damn. Don't think about it, Akira. He shoved his cellphone back into his pocket, grabbed his food, and continued on his way, holding his umbrella high and chewing on the corner of his lip.

He was just a few blocks away from the theatre. He could have taken the bus or a cab, but he didn't mind the rain or cold weather. It did wonders to cool off his head and focus his thoughts and the discussion of his book for the day. Within just a few months they had made a lot of progress and he was more than a little excited to share his project made with Edmund's help to anyone and everyone.

So, by the time he was walking through the glass doors of the theatre, his hands and face were cold, almost numb, but his spirit had raised. And he was no longer double-thinking small, mostly meaningless, text messages.

"Oh, hi, Akira," a stage crew member of who he vaguely knew the name to be Marika greeted him as he was closing his umbrella. "Mr. Fisher is in the house." she gestured to the auditorium doors. Seeing how she was in a rush, she didn't wait to say anymore and swiftly left to God only knows where.

Akira slowly walked through the doors and down the stairs. There were far too many seats and he was used to meeting in his office. But he was soon able to find him, his blond hair peaking over the velvet seats. The moment he spotted him, he quickened his pace, only slowing his pace as he approached him. "I hope I'm not late." He whispered, unsure if it was even proper etiquette to raise his voice in the room and far too uncomfortable to do so in a room full of people he didn't know. Was it peculiar? A little, he had been a popular singer years ago after all.

"I know you don't eat, so, I brought you lunch," he raised the bag to prove his point and grinned, "you can thank me later."

「 @wren. 」​

 

[MaryGold]

LYDIA YORK
FAE

LOCATION | INTERACTION | MENTIONS

Bitter and tasteless.

Two words that went well together, but never a good sign when used to describe anything. Food or people. And in the case of her morning, Lydia would use it to describe both the breakfast wine served at her table and the man she had spent the night with. But the worst of the two was the latter and she had no doubt of that. His speech was rude, whiney and she had spent most of the night consoling the man with intimate acts one might receive from a partner — a lover — rather than the sexual acts he had paid for. She didn't kiss him, tell him he had done good, that he was doing the best he could because it was a lie. He was selfish, self-absorbed and an absolute fool, crying about his unreciprocated love to a woman who he had given no reason for her to love, and in fact, the opposite.

Lydia had taken job after job since she was able to work. From the start to her current point, she had received a mixed amount of clients. Those who clearly wanted a distraction whatever pains life dealt them and instead of losing themselves in a warm body and scandalous acts without having to pay anything but material wealth. There were those who simply liked sex and then there were those like the man who was currently sleeping soundly beside her, rinsing the acts of the night before — if you could call anything that happened. He was part of those who couldn't get through much if anything at all, and simply broke down. Because what his type really wanted was someone to cry on, to be intimate and vulnerable with, even if it was fake.

Maybe it was the personality she showcased, bright, warm, and comical Lydia. Always offering small talk, enjoyable talk, and a smile. Was it that demeanor that made them think "yes, I can break down in front of her and receive kind words and affection"? She had received one too many requests from the same clients who fell into the same routine with her. When she was younger, she had sympathized more, now that she was older, wiser, and not so naive, she could see more than half of them were at fault for their own problems. Men and women. Her patience was not as everlasting as she pretended it to be.

Lydia hated this job, and those clients added to the reasons. She didn't hate it because she thought of it as wrong or disturbing. No, she hated it for the same reason anyone would hate a job they never wanted in the first place but needed to take care of themselves. The redhead hadn't taken a single client since she had been joined the theatre, the real occupation she had dreamt of. But when a coworker begs for you to take a night for them because you owe them, you do it. Even if it's cutting it close with the job you actually like.

Setting down the glass of wine, Lydia sighed deeply. It was too early to be drinking in the morning, but after staying up so late and knowing it'd be cold outdoors, she would need something to warm her insides. And warm her from the inside the wine did, even if it was not the most delicious beverage. It was enough to get her moving, sitting up from her spot at the table and slipping on the same dress she had worn the night before, and sliding into her heels laying haphazardly on the floor.

The day was still young, the sun had barely risen, the only one who had been in the very hotel room awake beside herself was the room serviceman. Considering all she had to deal with the night before, she deserved a breakfast on him. She didn't eat much, but she ordered enough. More than enough. He would have a spread to wake up to.

She also treated herself to a tip from his wallet. For a high-class werewolf, he was not carrying a lot of cash on hand. Only fifty dollars, but it was fifty more than Lydia had before. Therefore, there wasn't a single complaint from her. She stuffed the dollar bills into the pocket of her coat and as quietly as she came, she left.

​

Neira and Nigel were not faes, they were angels, angels sent to her when she needed them most. Lydia knew herself to be a lucky one to have such close companions in her life. They were supportive even on the days she didn't feel like star material, which was often. And she never felt that way more than when she walked into her friend's apartment to shower and change clothes. She stayed at their place so much, she practically lived, there being a member of the family.

Unfortunately, her stay had been short, as that was all she stayed there to do and quickly found herself at the next scene, the theatre. They were all working hard on a new production, after all. A production that she had pitched, and once she had won the leading role for.Her first lead role … The thought of it sent shivers down her back despite it being announced weeks again, despite all the practice she had been going to and feeling out the character. The same excitement lived in her from morning to afternoon to the nearing evening.

The sky was gloomy, the weather cold, but Lydia was nothing but warm underneath the skin for most of the day. She had a little too much energy, but she blamed it on the fae blood she had been born with. All the mischievous or bright energy she had, the fae blood was always the cause.

It meant her breaks were scarce, and few in between. She wasn't the one in charge of making sure everything went right, but it didn't mean she didn't try to do everything she could on her end. After all, she most certainly had something to prove. Edmund had been skeptical about the idea, but relented, and a few people knew it was her suggestion. There was pressure, but she refused to let it suffocate her. Which was exactly why she took the call from her father sheepishly in practice.

"No, papa, it's a musical. Anastasia! I told you about this weeks ago, remember?" How many times did she have to repeat herself? Too many. She didn't blame his bad memory, but his nonchalance frustrated her mildly.

"I understand, but why would I go to the city just to see that play?"

"Because your one and only daughter is in it and playing the lead role.." An absolute "duh" was the epitome of her sentence and yet he still didn't seem to get it.

"I'll see what I can do, Liddy. But no promises … Holiday season is busy in the village. Oh! I'll call you back, Geraldine brought brownies."

"T-"

click

Fuck Geraldine's brownies. A frustrated Lydia groaned and dropped her phone carelessly onto her dress room desk. This was ridiculous. She could call the old man every day and he still wouldn't remember, which meant, he wasn't going to show.

The mere thought made her stomach twist in dread. She wasn't a child, she didn't need her parent to show up to every show ...But it would be nice if he showed up to one.

At least, there were some people she could count on. One of them being in a leading role just as she. Lydia left the heavy feeling on her heart in the dressing room to rejoin the cast, hoping to look as light-hearted as she felt before.

"Ethan," She called out to the young man, tapping his shoulder gently. "On a scale of 1 through 10, with 1 being the worst and 10 being the best, how well do you think this production will be?" It was an easy answer but hoped that he was just as confident as she felt. Otherwise, there would be a little cause for worry.

"I'll give you a hint, the answer rhymes with ben."

"Lydia, well it's bound to be a ten since you're in it."

"You charmer," she grinned despite herself, her mood instantly improving. Was she too easy? She chose to focus on the caller rather than answering her own question. "Hello, Elizabeth. If we're both companions of Ethan, we have to get along somehow, someway, it was written in the stars." She rocked forward on her toes and back onto the heels of his feet.

"Did you bring something to eat?" She asked her co-star, humming gently to herself. Because she surely hadn't. "I can order us both something now... Or maybe I can ask Bryan to bring something. I don't know what he's doing."

「 @wren. 」​

 

[MaryGold]

ISAAC FLETCHER
WEREFOX

LOCATION | INTERACTION | MENTIONS

"And that's a wrap!" Isaac twirled his finger in the air, marking the end of a particularly successful day. Something rather rare for his little business, but when they were in the city there were always opportunities to be found. They just had to leave in a timely manner and relocate to a new spot in case any unsatisfied customers returned with a cop in the arm. He could smooth talk his way out of a lot of things, but he rather not take any chances.

With the day ending, he moved to close the windows to the bus. His fingers were quick and nimble, reeling in the items hanging from the window bars, for display, and shutting the windows tight. And not a moment too soon. The sky was turning grey and he could smell the petrichor in the air long before the fat drops of rain came around.

As if reacting to the weather, he suddenly felt the familiar dull ache in his stump. Sore feeling that intensified within seconds, but not so painful he could not remain to stand. Still, he faltered, stumbling back from his spot but small hands grabbed a hold of his arm in a tight and secure grip. Thomas was standing at his side wearing that same concerned look whenever he returned with bruises and cuts after a "misunderstanding".

"I'm fine," he assured the fae child, ruffling his curls with his hand. It did very little to assure the child. He was 8, but wiser than most people Isaac had ever met. A tragic perk of being forced to grow up fast. "Really, I'm fine. I'm just getting old." As if the age 27 was old in any species' lifespan.

Regardless of his assurances, he let the kid guide him to a seat as if he was some senile grandpa without direction. Getting off his feet - foot did help alleviate the pain. Either he had been doing too much standing and walking around or his stupid prosthetic needed a replacement. "You know, I'm starting to think the universe might have it out for us. You know, between the whole orphaned thing and bodily issues. You with no voice, me with no leg."

Thomas wasted no time forming the sentence "and the missing finger" with his own wriggling fingers no less. Thomas smiled - smiled - when Isaac rolled his eyes.

"I lose count sometimes." That earned him an even greater grin as he tucked himself under his arm.

There wasn't a moment of peace before there was a knocking on the door before they slid open. Walking up the steps was a wet Layla, shaking droplets of water from her loose curls. "Sorry, I'm a little late." She greeted the two with a grin. The weredog was one of the few people Isaac trusted in the city, especially with Thomas. "I hope I didn't make you late for your appointment."

He smiled. "I won't be late."

​

Isaac was a liar. He was late. Not so late that the door was closing on him, but late enough that Leon would make a note of it. Though, he never did anything with those noted comments and Isaac was happy about it. Leon was an excellent doctor, and he found himself checking in appointments regularly not just for his clinical skills alone. That much was obvious.

In most cases, he avoided clinics if he could. He was the type that rather suffer through the pain with a grin than see a professional and drown in the debt you gathered for treating a paper cut. Leonidas was affordable, however, and more than that he actually seemed to care. It was perhaps his most attractive feature, aside from his objectively pretty appearance. He seemed rather accepting of his flirtations. Even if it led nowhere.

Isaac hold his umbrella as a cane, gripping the wood hook handle as he joined Leonidas in standing. He did his best not to laugh or chuckled at the first comment, but the smile on his face said it all. "I'll try not to make it a habit, Dr. Leon." He responded, following the man in tow to the back room, bunching his shoulders as a shiver passed through him.

The weather was colder than he had anticipated and his waistcoat did very little to protect him from the cold. "Not really," the response is reflected and absolutely untrue. He had to pause before shaking his head and asking, "I suppose I have been experiencing some aches and soreness with my stump. And a recurring cough," like a true working-class lad.

He was relieved to be seated on the examination table once they reached it. He crossed his legs and leaned forward slightly, catching Leon's eye. "What are you doing this Hallow's Eve?" It was an innocent enough question. And Isaac was very interested in hearing the answer. "There's always a fuss over the holiday, are you dressing up or attending any parties? Both?" His eyebrows raised.

What would Leon even dress up as? He almost seemed like the type to wear his lab coat and call it a costume. It would be a successful sexy doctor, but nothing out of the ordinary.

「 @wren. 」​

 

[unanun]

The dish slipped from her gloved hands. It bounced in the metal sink twice, emitting tinny thuds before it touched a cup and gracefully shattered into three pieces. The shock froze Hilda in position, making her voyeurism more obvious with each passing second as the faucet filled the sponge in her hand and it overflowed from her fist.

The embarrassment was slow to come. The tips of her ears slowly bloomed read and her wringing hands disappeared under a cloud of suds as she turned her attention back to the sink, from which came the sound of extremely squeaky clean porcelain as she lugged cup after dish after cup into the drying rack. Her intensity was essentially the guilt of being caught in the act, and her shoulders only relaxed after she had peeled the gloves from her shiny, perspiring hands and inverted them to dry.

"If you don't mind, Miss Mayari," she finally enunciated, though her head was down and hands clasped in front (the right one had a red scratch that ran from the pad of the index finger well into the palm, maybe from the broken dish), "I have a few other tasks to attend to in the household. I hope the snack was to your liking. You are free to stay however long you wish, as well as your siblings, although I understand that you are due back for your own dinner." On the countertop was various mise en place, a grid of small bowls with diced and chopped aromatics and herbs.

@PavellumPendulum

 

[PavellumPendulum]

HALO

Beauty was everywhere, regardless of whether you wanted it to be there or not. Halo loved the world and what it was, despite it all, because of how beauty found a way to grow through the cracks. It was impossible to stomp out the people that shone in this world, to take away every ounce of joy away from the world. Of course, he did not want anyone to try, because the people he held dear to himself were so precious that he couldn't bear to even think of losing them. He could talk about the things he found beautiful without ever needing to stop and think. He chuckled quietly at Jax's shock at his statements, only giving him his graceful mimicry of a slight shrug. "I would only run out of things to write about if you ran out of patience to read about them. I love sharing everything about my life with you, I only worry about boring you to death."

When asked if his answer could wait, Halo gestured vaguely, expression gracious. "By all means, there is no rush. Even if you say no and decide you would like to come with me later on, I have no qualms with flying you out to me whenever you are ready." He was quite certain that Jax wouldn't, since his friend often seemed to be the type that shied away from being reliant, from any situation where he could perhaps be burdensome, but he wanted to offer it anyway.

He laid down his menu after only perusing it for a minute. Though he wasn't usually the type to always seek out the same experiences, there was some comfort to be found in sticking to what you already knew that you liked at restaurants. Jax's willingness to trust his tastes made another smile grace his lips. "I would never mind. I find it to be a compliment."

When a waiter found them again, Halo ordered for the both of them, but allowed an extra moment for Jax in case he'd thought of adding anything to their order at the last moment. With their menus gone, Halo clasped his hands together, fiddling briefly with one of his golden rings. He often wore matching rings with many of his lovers, though he could never wear them all at once, lest he one day decided that he wanted his hand to become unusable. "Did I tell you what the theme of the exhibition that I am taking you to is? I think it may have slipped my mind."

「 @Dusk 」

code by wren.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

MAYARI

This wasn't normally the type of reaction she elicited in women. Mayari wasn't really the subtle type, mostly because she was too impatient for that type of shit. She was an adult and the ladies that interested her were adults too, of course. Why not just skip putting on the kiddie gloves and just get right to the good shit? Truth be told though, she couldn't quite tell if this response was good or bad, hearing the clatter of the dish in Hilda's hand slip and turn into a handful of shattered shards rather than a vessel for eating. Mayari stared, mayhaps looking more like she was morbidly interested rather than coolly unaffected.

Still, it worked out in the end. Hilda didn't respond, but as Mayari's unrelenting eyes observed her, she caught the flush of her ears poking through her hair. Offering her up some silent mercy, Mayari turned her attention back to the snack in her hands, a smirk playing on her lips. The maid had gotten her fill of teasing for the day, it seemed.

And so when Hilda turned one more, in order to announce her departure from the kitchen and to tend to other tasks in the household, Mayari didn't make a big deal about it. With her own hands wiped clean of crumbs, she stood up and with a slight tilt of her head, she stuffed her hands in her pockets. "Don't mind at all. See ya, Hilda."

The Maluya-Catindig siblings left soon enough, leaving Hilda in peace. … At least until their next chance meeting.

「 @unanun 」

code by wren.

 

[SilverWisp]

hh

hh

AVORAN

Avoran barely noticed the flashing screen of his cellphone which lay face down on the far corner of the mattress before the call went to voicemail. The caller ID displayed a name that had, over the last few months, appeared with increasing frequency. Jon Franks, huh? Were you waiting for me to finally get comfortable? Avoran ran his fingers into the freshly-washed curls that hung down in front of his eyes and pushed them back out of sight and with his free hand, unlocked the phone and put it into speaker mode.

Jon Franks had found a comfortable bench across the street from the apartment building to park and people watch while he waited for his most recent, and profitable HR investment to arrive from out of town. Through half a mouthful of fresh, soft baked pretzel, he spoke cheerfully, "How are you liking the new apartment?" he asked and then continued without waiting for an answer, "My friend, it pays to live well in this city! Too much shit to tread through to not have somewhere comfortable to sleep it all off. Anyway, I've got something for you, a nice 'welcome to town' job. You interested?"

He's going to have to teach you that trick someday...Yidra mused as it stood on the windowsill, looking down and across the street. When they met Jon Franks, there didn't seem to be anything more remarkable about the man aside from the depths of his financial assets. His acquisition requests on the other hand, painted a picture of a man who would, and perhaps had designs on, casting the most unnatural darkness upon the Sun itself and plunge existence into shadow. Yet there was something disarming about Jon; something that prevented anyone from getting a steady fix on the man. One could ask a room full of people, some who would even call themselves a close friend, to describe Jon Franks and no two responses would be terribly alike. If it weren't for the increased regular business, Yidra would have insisted that they have nothing more to do with the enigmatic Jonathan Franks. Best see what he wants. He's outside...waiting. For how long, I wonder?

Though fatigue clung to him like a weighted blanket draped around his shoulders, the hum of the insatiable engine that was his curiosity proved time and time again to be more than enough motivation to get him up and moving. Without a word, Avoran tapped the "end call" icon , dressed quickly, pulled his briefcase out from under the pile of odds and ends that had been dropped off in the hall and left the apartment.

By the time the locking mechanism of front door of the apartment building turned over and clicked into place, Avoran was already halfway across the street, his boots tapping against the pavement. Rubber burned against tar as tires screeched to a halt, scoring the road. Angry faces poked out over windows to shout and curse at the single-minded moron who had practically jogged into traffic. Honk! Honk! "Ey! Watch it, will yah?" "FUCK YOU, pal! You tryin' to get hit?!" One of a kind. First edition. Limited edition. Partially burned, now restored. Found in a safe in a submerged vault off the coast. What now? What's next? Whenever it came to a Jon Franks acquisition, there was always something that made the inevitable and sometimes considerable obstacles worth the time and effort. He couldn't help but smile.

​

「 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[Dusk]

JAX

"I'd be overwhelmed before I got bored," he admitted truthfully. But Jax knew he would've gotten tired of the letters eventually. Halo was a deep and intense romantic, and it was an answer to match. Where would he store so many letters? It seemed almost cruel to dispose of them. Halo had an interesting life but Jax didn't need to know every aspect of it every day. He was already as far from a mysterious man as possible, anything Jax wanted to know he could ask.

Jax was happy to accept large amounts of money and expensive gifts from anyone who offered, he had many times. And he didn't protest many of the dangerous things clients requested of him, either. He even willingly went places that weren't safe or smart — things he knew better than to do. He even did things because he knew it'd get him hurt. So why was he so hesitant to accept travel as a gift? Even from Halo? Especially from Halo.

…Especially from Halo?

Jax decided not to linger on that thought.

"I'll think about it," he said with a small smile. And he would.

A smile that carried over to Halo's favourable response to Jax's decision to mimic the other man's meal. It rarely went over poorly but Halo appeared especially pleased. The waiter appeared, took the order from Halo, and was gone just as quickly as he arrived taking their menus with him.

Jax didn't have to think before he responded to Halo's question regarding the exhibition. "You didn't." And Jax hadn't asked — it had slipped his mind just as it had Halo's. His eyes flickered briefly to the movement of Halo's hands and the golden rings glistening around his fingers. One of which matched the gold ring on his own finger. His gaze trailed up his arm with intent before it settled back on his date's face. He grinned.

"Tell me what I'll view tonight?" He asked with a raised brow.

「 @PavellumPendulum 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[Ghostie]

hh

hh

ARABELLA

Bella sat on the bus quietly, her pink kitty cat headphones blasting Sudden Revival as she tugged and twiddled with the long sleeves of her boho-style dress. Despite it cuteness, she was almost dreading her outfit choice; but Arabella knew that was just her anxiety talking. She looked amazing and her outfit was wonderful! It wasn't like she wouldn't be trying on weird shit at the thrift shop with Stella anyhow.

Or should they go to a movie, where she could be less… awkward? She couldn't embarrass herself by talking too much if they went to a movie. Well, she could, but sure definitely wouldn't in fear of annoying Stella and everyone around them. Now she was really overthinking. And now that Bella thought about it, the two of them hadn't cemented down an idea for their plans tonight.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the elderly woman next to Bella tapped her shoulder, making her move the headphones to around her neck. "Didn't you say were going to that hip coffee shop near here? Well, this is your stop, dear." The woman smiled, pointing to the doors. For once, Belle was glad she had a tendency to blabber off to people too much sometimes; or else she'd have missed her stop.

"Oh! Thank you so much; have a good rest of your day!" Bella waved as she breezed down the bus aisle and onto the Black City streets. She quickly made her way to the coffee shop where Stella worked, finding the lavender-haired beauty wiping down counters; the chairs already put upside down on tables to signal the end of the day. "Heya wonderful!" Arabella beamed with a small but energetic wave. "I am here to whisk you away! Either to a movie, or thrifting! Or whatever, considering we never decided on plans!"

「 @Dusk 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[PavellumPendulum]

HALO

Though it wasn't like Halo ever allowed himself to put together and show off any exhibitions that he wasn't actually proud of, he did have to admit that this one was feeling a touch more special than his other ones. It wasn't strange of him to do homages to his family, as each and every addition to his well-loved lineage and list of lovers was just as loved as the last, but this one was based entirely on pieces dedicated to each and every member of his family. It was the product of nearly a decade of work and though he was certain that he'd have to add more as the years went by, he was already extremely proud of it as it was now.

Jax's grin invited his own smile to shine even brighter. "It is my best exhibition to date, I'm certain. I told you that I have been putting something important together and this is it. The entire project is a display of exactly 69 pieces." Halo explained, a soft chuckle leaving his lips, "To celebrate my age, of course." An amused smirk played on his lips, self-satisfaction in his eyes, before he continued, "Each one is dedicated to a member of my family. One for each of my mothers at the entrance, followed by one for each of my lovers and each of my children. I plan to keep it updated with time, but I am absolutely delighted to finally share it in its current state with the world."

In truth, he had wondered if Jax would be okay with a piece dedicated to him in the collection, but he hadn't named any of those important to him in the pieces, only generally alluded to them in titles and descriptions in order to maintain some privacy. He was sure that Jax was not ashamed of the relationship that they had, but he did know that he could be quite forward and long winded with his declarations of love.

"As a result, it is quite an expansive collection. But I do hope that you'll enjoy it as I have enjoyed creating it."

「 @Dusk 」

code by wren.

 

[wren.]

hh

hh

EDMUND

Akira's response comes much sooner than anticipated, and the words that greet him are even less expected.

Yessir;)

Akira's always been friendly, but that response is downright cheeky. If he didn't know better, he'd say it's flirty. Well, he is still relatively young and hot-blooded. He probably doesn't know how that might come across. Either that, or he just considers them close enough to tease. Does this make them friends? Is he overthinking this? Probably. He tucks his phone away, leaning his head into his hand and chuckling into his palm. He's not even sure what to say to that, so he'll just wait until he sees Akira later. Meanwhile, he might as well use this time to look over billing.

​

He's halfway through his task when Akira's voice suddenly sounds at his side. "No, you're not late at all, Akira," he assures, "I thought we'd be meeting much later, in full honesty." Not wanting to come off as turning him away, he pats the seat beside him in a silent invitation for him to sit down. "I'm afraid you might have to sit through some of my lecturing; we're still doing rehearsals."

The bag of food draws a low chuckle out of him, and he takes it with little complaint. "You spoil me," he teases, "I ought to hire you as my personal assistant at this rate." For a while, he'd suspected Akira's caregiving was a way of earning his favor as his patron, but it swiftly became apparent that Akira is just a kind person in general. Normally he wouldn't be so open to accepting favors like this, but Akira is nearly as stubborn as him, so complaining would be pointless. Not to mention, he's grown rather fond of the man's companionship, and he'd hate to seem ungrateful and push him away.

He helps him spread out the array of food between them and tries not to let it show how hungry he actually is now that there's food in front of him. "It smells delicious. Where did you get it from?" He goes immediately for the cup of onion soup, hesitating only for a moment when he realizes it might make his breath stink like onions for their entire conversation. That would be mortifying, but he's already grabbed it, and it would be weird for him to suddenly go back on it. Whatever, he could always just read Akira's mind to make sure he isn't silently suffering. While he's at it, maybe he can find the motivation for the earlier text. If there even is one.

"So, how much progress have you made on the novel since we last spoke?"

「 @MaryGold 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[wren.]

hh

hh

ISIAH

Isiah is only mildly concerned when he hears a sudden thudding while he's setting the table, already quite used to Jesús's bumbling. He's never met someone as clumsy, nor perhaps as dim-witted. But he's naive and good-hearted, so it makes his flaws more charming than irritating. Usually. "Did you die?" he calls, impassionate as he moves back to the open kitchen to grab their plates. He returns just in time to see the man bounce down the stairs and across the floor, those spooky shadow tentacles of his breaking his fall as they bring him to his seat. Do all darkness magi get that? Or just Soos? Or is this something all magi can manifest one way or another?

He knows very little about his magi heritage. Sure, he'd studied under another Light Magi in order to control his abilities enough to hide them when he was younger, but that doesn't equate to understanding an entire culture. Some people would probably find that sad, but he can't say he feels a particular emptiness over it. He does sometimes take a look at magi affairs, though, out of curiosity. For example, he saw on the news that today there is a large charity event being hosted to help orphaned magi children get in touch with their roots. Are any charities looking to help closeted rich adults?

Maybe that's why he let Jesús stay with him. While he can be charitable on occasion, he's certainly no philanthropist, and inviting a strange man that he'd found in a dumpster into his home was an extremely out-of-character thing for him to do. But when he'd learned that he was in a similar situation as himself, being half Vampir and half Magi, well. Perhaps it poked at something in him. And maybe he'll never be able to get in touch with his own magi roots, but he can at least help Jesús understand his Vampir ones.

He sets the plates down on the table just in time before Soos hugs him, saving them from potential disaster. "Yes, I am," he chuckles, patting the other man's back. "I texted you early this morning, and I've been here for some hours, did you just now notice?" His playful smirk vanishes into surprise as Soos manhandles him into his seat before taking his own. Now, look, he likes a little manhandling sometimes if you catch his drift, but Soos's energy still leaves him reeling sometimes. He barely has any time to answer any of the man's questions with how fast they escape his mouth.

"First of all," he begins, "Keeping meat on the rarer side is for your own good. Unless you agree to start drinking blood more organically like a good boy?" A rhetorical question of course. He pours them both some of the wine he'd pulled out earlier while cooking, this time an expensive Pinot Noir type. The brand is popular for a reason. "And darling, I don't find hot guys during my tour; they come to me," he assures with a cocky smirk, taking a sip from his glass. "All those cute fans who pay to see me after the show? I practically get my pick of the litter. As for fun, well. I try to do a little sightseeing here and there and visit some old friends when I'm nearby. But the tour usually keeps me from getting too wild, unfortunately."

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he pulls it out to see Cordelia's name beaming up at him. Everyone else had responded as expected, but the amount of time it had taken his cousin to reply back had admittedly struck him. She wasn't usually one to keep him waiting for very long. Judging by her text, something rather serious must have happened. I'm always down for a drink. How about tonight? You can pick the place, it'll be my treat.

He smiles apologetically at Soos as he sets his phone aside, but before he can explain his reason for ignoring him, the doorbell sounds. His food is going to get cold by the time he even gets a bite of it, isn't it? "I'll get it," he sighs, getting to his feet and heading toward the front door. Who could it possibly be at this hour? Most of his friends were working, and they would have messaged him ahead of time to unlock the — Oh.

Quick as a bullet, he flies back to the table, slamming the rest of his glass of wine. He needs it before he has this damn conversation. Whatever it is. With Vince, it's almost guaranteed to be aggravating. He sets the glass back down with more force than necessary, shooting Soos an exasperated look before floating back over to the door.

"Vinny~" he greets as he opens the door, licking the wine from his lips before plastering on his 'innocent' face that probably looks too mischievous to be believable. "What a pleasant surprise. I see I have to change the gate code again. If you wanted to welcome me back so personally, you could have just told me you were coming and I would have let you in." He steps back, gesturing for the man to come in like a proper gentleman. "Come on in before the rain washes away your whiskey cologne," a subtle diss, "Jesús and I just sat down for dinner if you'd like to join us for some wine, at least."

「 @Justin | @o0peachie0o | @MaryGold 」

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS

code by wren.

 

[Dusk]

STELLA

Cheery pop music played through her earbuds as Stella scrubbed down the counter, the last of her tasks for the day before locking up. She bobbed her head to the music. Her shift was almost over and she was more eager than usual to see it come to an end. Stella liked her job. She had great coworkers and her manager was chill as fuck. Most of her customers were chill, too. Stella had a rapport with the regulars and she'd made a game of guessing what the irregulars were going to order. And the shop obviously always smelled of coffee, which was a major plus. But that day Stella was eager for her shift to end because she had a date.

She didn't have to wait.

Bella arrived at the coffee shop exactly as Stella finished cleaning up the last of the counter. Bella arrived a few minutes earlier than perfect, but Stella wasn't going to complain about getting to see her friend earlier rather than later. Stella leaned away from the glossy counter and greeted Bella with a wide grin.

"Hey yourself, gorgeous." Stella had always been quick to compliment Bella. And Bella was gorgeous. The magi had thought that from the very beginning. Bella O'Connor had shown up only a couple of months after Stella got her job, and she immediately stood out. Bella proved to be not just pretty, but charming as well. She was creative and romantic and Stella found herself smitten. They'd hung out before, as friends. But this was their first date. Stella had been confident the other woman would say yes but it had been nice to have it confirmed.

"Give me a minute and we'll be out of here. Oh and—" Stella gestured to Bella's usual order of a green tea frappuccino, "—this is for you," she added with a smile. The green drink sat next to a blended caramel coffee concoction that was Stella's drink for the evening. Stella slipped briefly to the back where she rinsed, wrung, and hung the rag before washing her hands and grabbing her bag. It took her only a moment before she was back with the target of her admiration.

"I am here to whisk you away! Either to a movie, or thrifting! Or whatever, considering we never decided on plans!"

Stella laughed lightly, enchanted by the idea. They hadn't set a plan which worked fine for her. She preferred to play it by ear. Rigid plans had never suited her. Stella pressed her finger to her lip, thinking a moment.

"Well, we already have our drinks for the night," unless Bella wanted to get some other drinks later. "We should hit up the stores. See if they have anything good before they close up for the night. Then we can see what we feel like after that?" Stella suggested on her way out of the door. She waited for Bella to go out first so she could lock it up behind her.

「 @Ghostie 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[Dusk]

JAX

Jax huffed through his smile at Halo's joke. Of course Halo would unveil the exhibition the year he turned 69. He might've even planned it that year just so he could make that joke. Jax didn't know a great deal about the specifics of sculpting, but he knew it took a long time to make that many statues, even if they were small.

But Halo's smile was a charming thing and there was something especially wonderful in the way he lit up when talking about art, and more so when he talked about his family. And at that moment, he was talking about both.

69 people. 69 family members Halo loved. Jax couldn't imagine caring about that many people — or being cared about by that many people. He spent as much time around people as he did on his own but he was something of a solitary creature by nature. But the majority of those interactions were superficial. Jax had few intimate friendships, not that he minded. Even at his most sociable, he hadn't had many friends. Jax was comfortable keeping a few close contacts. He was comfortable being alone. But he did find himself lonely sometimes when he examined the company he kept. He liked it that way, didn't he?

Jax's smile faded into a softer one, barely visible on his lips.

"Impressive," he said. He imagined the statues as rather large, despite having no evidence for it, but even if half of them were small there were still 69 of them, and Halo's work wasn't sloppy. At least none of the work Jax had ever seen.

Jax wondered if Halo had included him as one of those lovers, he hoped not. Jax adored Halo, slow as he was to admit it, but he was an impermanent fixture wherever he went and he felt it was wrong to be given permanent dedication. He didn't ask. Somehow either answer made him a bit uncomfortable.

Jax perked up. "I'm sure I will." He said sincerely. Statues were among his favourite types of artistic expression. He enjoyed the physicality of them — the unquestionable solidity and depth. "I'd love to ask more questions but I think that might ruin the surprise, don't you?" Jax teased.

「 @PavellumPendulum 」

Code by Jenamos

 

[Lulunopia]

~ Elizabeth ~

LOCATION | INTERACTIONS | MENTIONS​

The auditorium was dim, just enough light for the students to see. At the very front of the room a teacher droned on and on about calculus equations. Students dotted the seats with most having a tablet or laptop in front of them. Sitting closer to the front row Lizzie took notes on her tablet, using a stylus to write on blank pages. Her gaze moved from the board to back as she rapidly took notes.

Seeing as the teacher was throwing a pop quiz at them, Elizabeth felt unprepared to say the least. Who the hell does a pop quiz this soon into the semester?! It may have only been a month since classes started, but Lizzie felt like it was too soon. Then again it may just be the stress she's been under. She should have known taking on so many art projects at once would stress her out. But alas, stress is a part of her daily life now.

Blank and bored expressions sat upon every student's face. No one seemed to really be listening, well except her and the other ones that actually wanted to succeed. This class was her hardest class and not many passed, she could see why now. That's not to say it isn't a hard class, hell even Liz struggled with it.

"Alright, we'll pick up tomorrow with the quiz," The professor called out as the lecture came to its conclusion. At those words most students bolted from the class while others lingered. Today, Elizabeth bolted from class where she would usually linger. Her feet dragged her through the halls and out the building only to be met by wet grounds and chilly weather. A bland look on her face Lizzie started her trek home, ready to run if the rain hit again.

> ~~~ <​

By the time Elizabeth entered her apartment she was a little more chilly than she would have liked. Kicking her shoes off at the door she exhaled heavily glad to finally be home. Today felt like it was going so slow and the day wasn't even over! "Bella! I'm back!" Liz called out. When no response came she shrugged her shoulders and simply went to her room. Might as well work on some of her commissions, maybe even knock out a few that are close to being finished.

Walking into her slightly smaller room Lizzie dropped her bag on her bed as she moved to her desk. The desk wasn't messy, it was rather clean for an artist. Orderly is more like it. Pencils and pens organized in a container next to a standing container holding blank white paper. The center of the desk was clear leaving room for her tablet to sit or, need be, blank paper. Sitting down at her desk Liz pulled out her tablet and swiftly unlocked, pulled up the current commission she was working on, and began drawing.

> ~~~<​

About an hour later Elizabeth's phone would go off.

Jumping slightly, having been lost in her work, Lizzie picked up her phone and answered it, not bothering to look at the contact. "Helloooo my dear." Hearing Ethan's voice Liz smiled. Of course it was him. "Hello darling!" She replied with a grin.

"How are classes going?"

At this question Liz let out a groan of frustration. "It hasn't been bad, bad but what kind of teacher throws out a pop quiz at the beginning of the semester! In calculus nonetheless!" She was definitely still hung up on that. "Not to mention I've taken on way more commission than I should of." Elizabeth paused before continuing her rant, "I swear these teachers have it out for me. I have 3 papers, a quiz, and…I think like 15 total pages to read. I get that I'm in a few more advanced classes, but that doesn't mean you gotta kill me with assignments!"

Huffing she was about to continue when he started talking to someone on the other side, Lydia was their name. "Oh! It's nice to meet you Lydia! It must be fate that we have met!" Elizabeth agreed cheerily. Gasping at Ethans suggestion she exclaimed, "Oooo you should definitely join us for a disney night!"

@wren. @MaryGold​