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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by skidcrow

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skidcrow

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skidcrow

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“PLEASE JUST TELL ME WHERE THE REMOTE IS,” whines Josh Haverford, a scrawny eighteen-year-old slacker—and shift manager at the Bistro, for some reason.

“This is Sleater-Kinney, you fucking ingrate,” Jack says with a cigarette pinched between her teeth. There’s a thin crowd of people in the Bistro right now, but even during rush hour conversations usually transpire like this. People in Delton accept what’s outside of the typical realm of ‘good customer service’; probably because they think it adds to the family-run business vibe. She flicks the cigarette up and tucks it behind her ear, folding her apron and leaving it on the counter. “You’re not turning it off.”

“You’re only getting off work early ‘cause your dad owns the place!” Josh fires over his shoulder, too busy getting ready for his shift to trail after her with taunts.

“Yeah, and I’ll get him to fire your punk ass!” Jack fires back, pushing down on the lever of the fire escape door. Josh responds by flipping off the door as it slams shut.

“Fuckin’ kids, man,” Jack mutters outside, hesitating for a moment to dwell on how old it makes her sound. Five years since her ‘graduation’ and she’s still throwing venom at eighteen-year-olds. She shakes the feeling off as quickly as it comes on and retrieves her cigarette, lighting it. She pauses to take a drag before walking through the alley, where her motorcycle waits parked against the brick wall. Out of the few things she’s done since graduating, getting her license and a decent Sportster is definitely up there. She can bet nobody’s gonna be rocking up to P.J’s tonight on a Harley, and—Jesus, why the fuck does she care?

Her ringtone helpfully starts blaring and Jack quickly answers the call.

“Somebody’s anxious,” she jokes, her voice laced with an uncharacteristic warmth.

“Just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into a screaming match with the stick insect again,” comes a distant voice from the other end, interwoven with a lot of rustling.

“Jesus, Patrick Bateman, you laying out newspaper?” Jack snorts, balancing on the seat of her bike.

“I’m getting ready—” A pause for more rustling, “—and you’re cutting it close.”

“I’m literally looking at my bike, Erica.” She takes another drag. “I’ll be right there.”

“But you’ve got time for a smoke?” Erica’s voice is louder now, and the rustling seems to have stopped. Jack scowls, more at being caught out than anything.

“Well, considering I only get five minutes for smoke breaks...” There’s more mirth in her voice than she wants. The fuck would be wrong with ten minutes? “Just quit worrying. It’s gonna be fun.”

“You don’t even know the guy.”

“Well, the friend of my girlfriend is my friend, or whatever,” Jack quips. “I’m gonna start driving up, like, right now, so.”

“Okay,” Erica exhales, the tension leaving her voice. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” The line clicks dead. Jack stuffs her phone back into her pocket and stares at the half-smoked cigarette. After a moment, she sighs, dropping it on the ground and stomping on it. For posterity, she rummages through her jacket, grabbing her pack to check how many’s left.

Empty. Shit.

Jack all but slams the helmet onto her head and pulls out of the alley. The detour for another pack of cigarettes eats up 20 minutes of her time—she only ever goes to the minimart out by Majestic Plaza, since the guy there knows her and has a stash of imported cigarettes he sells her for cheap—and Jack stops for a smoke break once she’s secured them. Mistake number one, because right as she lights up, her phone begins to light up.

	Erica:
	Send me your location

With a groan, Jack runs a hand through her hair. She’d told Erica that was her last pack of cigarettes. Majestic is a good thirteen minutes out of the way of Erica’s. Erica is an amateur-turning-professional novelist, who can’t afford to have her public image be tarnished by her unreliable girlfriend.

											Jack:
				i just needed to stop and grab some stuff

	Erica:
	Jesus christ Jack
	I just wanted one night

											Jack:
					      just give me a few more minutes

	Erica:
	Forget it. Do whatever you wanna do

Jack’s thumbs hover hopelessly over the buttons on her phone’s keyboard. She considers fighting for the relationship, but what if it doesn’t work? She doesn’t even know where to start.

Whatever she needs to do, she doesn’t want to think about it just yet. If she can’t get boozy at some party full of strangers, then she’ll have to go to a party full of people that do know her. People that probably know the worst of her. And she’s going to do it the way she always used to—showing up unexpected.

With renewed vigor, Jack finishes her cigarette and turns her phone off, starting up her motorbike set on a course to P.J’s.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
one more hour — sleater-kinney
delton station bistro ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: erica
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Not shortly after sending out the email en masse, did Ivory spin in her office chair and take a deep breath. Her face was frozen in an awe struck expression, like, ”Did I really just send that out?”. Her puzzled face gained its elasticity back when her body finally went limp with acceptance. A slow exhale crept out of her mouth, almost forming a mist it was so thick. Of course, she sent it. Who else was going to have the intention and the reach to? She was the head of the yearbook club 3 years running, no nepobaby in sight. She spun back around and slammed her mac book shut, before checking to see if she damaged her two-band investment. Her drawer slid out revealing her tools and weapons, like an armory hidden behind a whiteboard or false painting. Instead of knives and guns, it was pens and binders. Her father always said a trapper keeper would have been easier, but she hated the bulk even though the aesthetic was clean. 

Fingers traced over meticulously curated pages of notes in a very cramped planner. The amount of planning she was about to do to ensure a smooth transition for this reunion was about to be egregious. And with weeks of deliberation and no response for the first couple of weeks, Ivy was beginning to have second thoughts on the whole thing. It was foolish of her to have no semblance of mind to believe there was a possibility it would just be her and some streamers. Another stressful attempt to balance work/life left her in a pool of her own drool, on that same dang mac. The drum of an outlook notification surged her awake, few things sent her into a PTSD frenzy, the alarm on iPhone’s being another. It was from CJ Markowitz, the last person she expected to reply, or should she have been the first? Regardless, her eyes did a full-on sprint when sifting through each and every word. Her efforts weren’t for naught. 

From there on it was a domino effect, ping after ping came in when she was doing laundry or making her fifth juice cleanse she found off TikTok. There were blunders which saw RSVPers turn to pull outs. Once the dust settled there were 5 including her that were locked in for the fateful reunion. 

The day of, Ivory is tearing with effervescent excitement. Perhaps this is the start of her redemption for not putting more effort into her peers instead of her peers’ best interests. CJ and Anni are going to be the toughest to crack, that is if they haven’t changed since graduation year. Hanna making an appearance sets her heart aflame, that whittle superstar. Lucas is going to be a mystery to her, but she never gives up a good mystery. 

With a last touch of her make up and flattening of the fabric of her top she heads out to meet her rental car. There is already sweat accumulating under her arms from the nerves. She’s been in Delton for a week now, yet seeing her neighborhood feels like the first time with each car ride. She makes her way into P.J’s, worried she’s made the owner sick by seeing the same face for a better part of the day every day. “This is the last time, I swear. And I’ll finally take that drink you think I should have had by now. Tom Collins—no cherry please and thank you” she turns around to prop her elbows on the bar while she shakes her hands out, “Come on Ivy League, a meteor isn’t going to bail you out this time.”

Or is it?

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
grown up — danny brown
hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: barkeep
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_{“PLEASE JUST TELL ME WHERE THE REMOTE IS,” whines Josh Haverford, a scrawny eighteen-year-old slacker—and shift manager at the Bistro, for some reason. “This is Sleater-Kinney, you fucking ingrate,” Jack says with a cigarette pinched between her teeth. There’s a thin crowd of people in the Bistro right now, but even during rush hour conversations usually transpire like this. People in Delton accept what’s outside of the typical realm of ‘good customer service’; probably because they think it adds to the family-run business vibe. She flicks the cigarette up and tucks it behind her ear, folding her apron and leaving it on the counter. “You’re not turning it off.” “You’re only getting off work early ‘cause your dad owns the place!” Josh fires over his shoulder, too busy getting ready for his shift to trail after her with taunts. “Yeah, and I’ll get him to fire your punk ass!” Jack fires back, pushing down on the lever of the fire escape door. Josh responds by flipping off the door as it slams shut. “Fuckin’ kids, man,” Jack mutters outside, hesitating for a moment to dwell on how old it makes her sound. Five years since her ‘graduation’ and she’s still throwing venom at eighteen-year-olds. She shakes the feeling off as quickly as it comes on and retrieves her cigarette, lighting it. She pauses to take a drag before walking through the alley, where her motorcycle waits parked against the brick wall. Out of the few things she’s done since graduating, getting her license and a decent Sportster is definitely up there. She can bet nobody’s gonna be rocking up to P.J’s tonight on a Harley, and—Jesus, why the fuck does she care? Her ringtone helpfully starts blaring and Jack quickly answers the call. “Somebody’s anxious,” she jokes, her voice laced with an uncharacteristic warmth. “Just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting into a screaming match with the stick insect again,” comes a distant voice from the other end, interwoven with a lot of rustling. “Jesus, Patrick Bateman, you laying out newspaper?” Jack snorts, balancing on the seat of her bike. “I’m getting ready—” A pause for more rustling, “—and you’re cutting it close.” “I’m literally looking at my bike, Erica.” She takes another drag. “I’ll be right there.” “But you’ve got time for a smoke?” Erica’s voice is louder now, and the rustling seems to have stopped. Jack scowls, more at being caught out than anything. “Well, considering I only get five minutes for smoke breaks...” There’s more mirth in her voice than she wants. The fuck would be wrong with ten minutes? “Just quit worrying. It’s gonna be fun.” “You don’t even know the guy.” “Well, the friend of my girlfriend is my friend, or whatever,” Jack quips. “I’m gonna start driving up, like, right now, so.” “Okay,” Erica exhales, the tension leaving her voice. “I’ll see you soon. I love you.” “I love you, too.” The line clicks dead. Jack stuffs her phone back into her pocket and stares at the half-smoked cigarette. After a moment, she sighs, dropping it on the ground and stomping on it. For posterity, she rummages through her jacket, grabbing her pack to check how many’s left. Empty. Shit. Jack all but slams the helmet onto her head and pulls out of the alley. The detour for another pack of cigarettes eats up 20 minutes of her time—she only ever goes to the minimart out by Majestic Plaza, since the guy there knows her and has a stash of imported cigarettes he sells her for cheap—and Jack stops for a smoke break once she’s secured them. Mistake number one, because right as she lights up, her phone begins to light up. Erica: Send me your location With a groan, Jack runs a hand through her hair. She’d told Erica that was her last pack of cigarettes. Majestic is a good thirteen minutes out of the way of Erica’s. Erica is an amateur-turning-professional novelist, who can’t afford to have her public image be tarnished by her unreliable girlfriend. Jack: i just needed to stop and grab some stuff Erica: Jesus christ Jack I just wanted one night Jack: just give me a few more minutes Erica: Forget it. Do whatever you wanna do Jack’s thumbs hover hopelessly over the buttons on her phone’s keyboard. She considers fighting for the relationship, but what if it doesn’t work? She doesn’t even know where to start. Whatever she needs to do, she doesn’t want to think about it just yet. If she can’t get boozy at some party full of strangers, then she’ll have to go to a party full of people that do know her. People that probably know the worst of her. And she’s going to do it the way she always used to—showing up unexpected. With renewed vigor, Jack finishes her cigarette and turns her phone off, starting up her motorbike set on a course to P.J’s.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO one more hour — sleater-kinney} ^{delton station bistro ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: erica} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}


_{Not shortly after sending out the email en masse, did Ivory spin in her office chair and take a deep breath. Her face was frozen in an awe struck expression, like, ”Did I really just send that out?”. Her puzzled face gained its elasticity back when her body finally went limp with acceptance. A slow exhale crept out of her mouth, almost forming a mist it was so thick. Of course, she sent it. Who else was going to have the intention and the reach to? She was the head of the yearbook club 3 years running, no nepobaby in sight. She spun back around and slammed her mac book shut, before checking to see if she damaged her two-band investment. Her drawer slid out revealing her tools and weapons, like an armory hidden behind a whiteboard or false painting. Instead of knives and guns, it was pens and binders. Her father always said a trapper keeper would have been easier, but she hated the bulk even though the aesthetic was clean. Fingers traced over meticulously curated pages of notes in a very cramped planner. The amount of planning she was about to do to ensure a smooth transition for this reunion was about to be egregious. And with weeks of deliberation and no response for the first couple of weeks, Ivy was beginning to have second thoughts on the whole thing. It was foolish of her to have no semblance of mind to believe there was a possibility it would just be her and some streamers. Another stressful attempt to balance work/life left her in a pool of her own drool, on that same dang mac. The drum of an outlook notification surged her awake, few things sent her into a PTSD frenzy, the alarm on iPhone’s being another. It was from CJ Markowitz, the last person she expected to reply, or should she have been the first? Regardless, her eyes did a full-on sprint when sifting through each and every word. Her efforts weren’t for naught. From there on it was a domino effect, ping after ping came in when she was doing laundry or making her fifth juice cleanse she found off TikTok. There were blunders which saw RSVPers turn to pull outs. Once the dust settled there were 5 including her that were locked in for the fateful reunion. The day of, Ivory is tearing with effervescent excitement. Perhaps this is the start of her redemption for not putting more effort into her peers instead of her peers’ best interests. CJ and Anni are going to be the toughest to crack, that is if they haven’t changed since graduation year. Hanna making an appearance sets her heart aflame, that whittle superstar. Lucas is going to be a mystery to her, but she never gives up a good mystery. With a last touch of her make up and flattening of the fabric of her top she heads out to meet her rental car. There is already sweat accumulating under her arms from the nerves. She’s been in Delton for a week now, yet seeing her neighborhood feels like the first time with each car ride. She makes her way into P.J’s, worried she’s made the owner sick by seeing the same face for a better part of the day every day. “This is the last time, I swear. And I’ll finally take that drink you think I should have had by now. Tom Collins—no cherry please and thank you” she turns around to prop her elbows on the bar while she shakes her hands out, “Come on Ivy League, a meteor isn’t going to bail you out this time.” Or is it?} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO grown up — danny brown} ^{hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: barkeep} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle

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Carlyle

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Carlyle

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Make sure to bring a smile that shines brighter than a meteor!

Sure, Ivory. She'd be right on that.

Anni rolled her eyes, re-reading the email as she waited outside PJ's in a beat-up sedan. It reeked of enthusiasm—way too much enthusiasm. Just the thought of being that chipper exhausted Anni. perhaps even more than usual given the company she was about to have.

Sliding her phone back into her jacket, Anni sighed. What was she even doing here, she began to wonder. She had been prepping for this ever since the moment Ivory's message had graced her phone screen. A second-hand red leather jacket. Equally red lipstick. Even her hair was done up. Anni wanted to show off; to shove it in their faces that little old meek Anni was a thing of the past. That she was here for business and not games. Yet despite everything, despite all the bravado Anni thought she had, she was getting cold feet.

"Get a grip, Anni." Anni told herself. "These assholes put you through four years of torture, and now that it's your turn you can't even keep yourself together? Pathetic."

She looked over towards the stereo. 6:47 PM. About time to go in, Anni figured. Turning off her sedan, she reached for the door and stepped out. A quick glance around revealed no one Anni had known, at least from where she stood. Not even Jack or her motorcycle, though Anni honestly doubted that Jack would've cared to come. She always seemed to do her own thing, or as far as Anni could recall.

Brushing the emptiness as her just being early, Anni decided to head indoors. At least she could get the "wallowing in my sorrows" part of this out of the way ahead of time.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
death of me — royal & the serpent
outside pj's ▸ bar interior
interacting with: n/a
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_{Make sure to bring a smile that shines brighter than a meteor! Sure, Ivory. She'd be right on that. Anni rolled her eyes, re-reading the email as she waited outside PJ's in a beat-up sedan. It reeked of enthusiasm—way too much enthusiasm. Just the thought of being that chipper exhausted Anni. perhaps even more than usual given the company she was about to have. Sliding her phone back into her jacket, Anni sighed. What was she even doing here, she began to wonder. She had been prepping for this ever since the moment Ivory's message had graced her phone screen. A second-hand red leather jacket. Equally red lipstick. Even her hair was done up. Anni wanted to show off; to shove it in their faces that little old meek Anni was a thing of the past. That she was here for business and not games. Yet despite everything, despite all the bravado Anni thought she had, she was getting cold feet. "Get a grip, Anni." Anni told herself. "These assholes put you through four years of torture, and now that it's your turn you can't even keep yourself together? Pathetic." She looked over towards the stereo. 6:47 PM. About time to go in, Anni figured. Turning off her sedan, she reached for the door and stepped out. A quick glance around revealed no one Anni had known, at least from where she stood. Not even Jack or her motorcycle, though Anni honestly doubted that Jack would've cared to come. She always seemed to do her own thing, or as far as Anni could recall. Brushing the emptiness as her just being early, Anni decided to head indoors. At least she could get the "wallowing in my sorrows" part of this out of the way ahead of time.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO death of me — royal & the serpent} ^{outside pj's ▸ bar interior interacting with: n/a} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Mirandae

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Mirandae Prisk

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Mirandae

Prisk

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Hanna had stayed at a hotel in Portland. She had wanted to go back home and visit her parents, but at the same time, there was the issue of her semi-public life and privacy. Although, she had promised her parents that she would visit, at some point, before going back to NYC. Hanna intended to keep up with her Steaming schedule, regardless of this little trip back home. She had made a sort of event out of it, another IRL stream, but different from the usual ones. The typical endeavor was to see and visit touristy locations and activities in and around NYC. These kinds of streams typically attracted more viewers than Hanna's gaming session. She figured it was because the people she knew on the influencer/fashion side of her professional life were able to tune in as well, having some kind of common ground to enjoy. However, the majority of her viewers were still the loyal army of simps and autists.

She took an Uber to Delton. The driver seemed unfamiliar with the small town in the middle of some crossroads, but Hanna assured him that it was quite easy to find and that any mishaps were quite alright. Hanna spent that time during the drive to get the Chat up to speed regarding all things Ritman High. It was as though pages from some excessive history tome spilled out of her mouth, as she kept yapping away without much pause. Eventually, the driver sort of chuckled at some of the more amusing points, which Hanna picked up on and included them in the 'conversation'. They killed time quite effectively, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the outskirts of Delton. Hanna had, at that point, finally reached the event at hand in her endless prattle.

“So, Ivy is going to be there -- obviously. Let me tell you, Chat: I fucking love this bitch like you wouldn't believe. She's like a superhuman or some shit. Ivy, essentially, ran the whole school and took care of everything. I'm pretty sure there's an alien in there, in her body, or something. Anyway, so, I'm kinda excited to see my sistha from anotha mistha again. And then, there's JD. I didn't quite expect her to RSVP to this thing. That kind of surprised me, but in a good way -- don't get me wrong.” The girl could barely take a quick sip of air before continuing her babbling. “This is all super cute and everything, but I can't say that I spoke with JD a whole lot. Although, I mean, you know me, Chat, I fucking talk non-stop, so me saying that I didn't talk with someone a lot should be a normal amount of talking to any other human being. We did get together at a few parties here and there, but that was about it. Anyway, JD is sweet, very laid back -- perhaps too much.” She chuckled while removing her seatbelt, thanking the driver, and stepping out of the car. A short walk to P.J's allowed Hanna to go on a bit more. “Now, the others that are apparently coming to this thing are an interesting bunch. I don't think I have a whole lot in common with them, but, I mean, that's never stopped me before, so why would it now?” She smiled and looked into the camera of her phone, and then shifted her attention to the Chat, which flowed with the usual kind of comments and emote spam. There were about three thousand viewers watching Hanna's stream at the moment.

“Now, one of these others is CJ. I spoke with her as I speak to literally anyone, but at least she, I don't know, somewhat heard what I said and reacted to it. But, I mean, I liked talking to everyone back then, even if it was like talking to a wall sometimes. So, maybe she's changed now, but I didn't have anything against her back then. On the other hand, I think Anni didn't quite just let me slide as the others did. I don't think she hated me or anything, but I could tell that I didn't come off as a 100% to her, for whatever reason, I still have no clue.” The girl chatted away without much worry for her surroundings, approaching P.J's from some obscure angle because the Uber driver could not quite find his way around Delton. “Lastly, there's Lucas.” Hanna began but sighed slightly before continuing. “I really tried, Chat -- I REALLY did. It seemed like there were so many issues surrounding this boy that wasn't really his fault. There were also these nasty rumors floating around on social media back then, and I tried my best to sort of dispel all that. There was nasty shit, like, he was a you-know-what shooter and everything.” Hanna said but lowered her voice as she mentioned the shooter part, avoiding to put the words 'school' and 'shooter' together so that she would not get in trouble. The Chat started to spam 'MonkaS' with a few 'Pepehands' in there. “Maybe I shouldn't talk about all this stuff, holy shit -- I should learn to shut up, at least sometimes. Oh well, it's out there now.” Hanna said and stopped right outside of P.J's, observing the flow of the Chat, and reading comments. “Anyway, Chat, I'm going to close right here. I'd bring you guys in with me, but I have no idea how the others would react to that, so let's give 'em some privacy, eh? I'll be on again tomorrow.” Hanna said and kissed the air in front of the camera on the phone to the Chat, closing things down.

Hanna was a bit distracted by the Stream. Even if she would have noticed Anni standing by the car, or rather just about to step out of it, Hanna might not have recognized her because of the hair and two years' worth of changes. Only brief moments separated the two from an outside encounter. Hanna managed to take a breath or two during the few seconds that she lingered in front of P. Johnson's main entrance. Okay, here we go. Deep breaths, in and out. I hope I don't make an ass out of myself, Hanna thought to herself but interrupted that moment of calm almost right away: “AAHH! Ivy!” A high-pitch screech swiftly escaped Hanna's stupidly wide smile and clenching eyes, lashes almost sticking together, as she stepped inside and felt the air of nostaliga. The girl nearly crashed into Ivory's presence at the bar for one of those hugs that only happens a few times throughout an entire lifetime.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by
Portland ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde
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_{Hanna had stayed at a hotel in Portland. She had wanted to go back home and visit her parents, but at the same time, there was the issue of her semi-public life and privacy. Although, she had promised her parents that she would visit, at some point, before going back to NYC. Hanna intended to keep up with her Steaming schedule, regardless of this little trip back home. She had made a sort of event out of it, another IRL stream, but different from the usual ones. The typical endeavor was to see and visit touristy locations and activities in and around NYC. These kinds of streams typically attracted more viewers than Hanna's gaming session. She figured it was because the people she knew on the influencer/fashion side of her professional life were able to tune in as well, having some kind of common ground to enjoy. However, the majority of her viewers were still the loyal army of simps and autists. She took an Uber to Delton. The driver seemed unfamiliar with the small town in the middle of some crossroads, but Hanna assured him that it was quite easy to find and that any mishaps were quite alright. Hanna spent that time during the drive to get the Chat up to speed regarding all things Ritman High. It was as though pages from some excessive history tome spilled out of her mouth, as she kept yapping away without much pause. Eventually, the driver sort of chuckled at some of the more amusing points, which Hanna picked up on and included them in the 'conversation'. They killed time quite effectively, and before they knew it, they had arrived at the outskirts of Delton. Hanna had, at that point, finally reached the event at hand in her endless prattle. “So, Ivy is going to be there -- obviously. Let me tell you, Chat: I fucking love this bitch like you wouldn't believe. She's like a superhuman or some shit. Ivy, essentially, ran the whole school and took care of everything. I'm pretty sure there's an alien in there, in her body, or something. Anyway, so, I'm kinda excited to see my sistha from anotha mistha again. And then, there's JD. I didn't quite expect her to RSVP to this thing. That kind of surprised me, but in a good way -- don't get me wrong.” The girl could barely take a quick sip of air before continuing her babbling. “This is all super cute and everything, but I can't say that I spoke with JD a whole lot. Although, I mean, you know me, Chat, I fucking talk non-stop, so me saying that I didn't talk with someone a lot should be a normal amount of talking to any other human being. We did get together at a few parties here and there, but that was about it. Anyway, JD is sweet, very laid back -- perhaps too much.” She chuckled while removing her seatbelt, thanking the driver, and stepping out of the car. A short walk to P.J's allowed Hanna to go on a bit more. “Now, the others that are apparently coming to this thing are an interesting bunch. I don't think I have a whole lot in common with them, but, I mean, that's never stopped me before, so why would it now?” She smiled and looked into the camera of her phone, and then shifted her attention to the Chat, which flowed with the usual kind of comments and emote spam. There were about three thousand viewers watching Hanna's stream at the moment. “Now, one of these others is CJ. I spoke with her as I speak to literally anyone, but at least she, I don't know, somewhat heard what I said and reacted to it. But, I mean, I liked talking to everyone back then, even if it was like talking to a wall sometimes. So, maybe she's changed now, but I didn't have anything against her back then. On the other hand, I think Anni didn't quite just let me slide as the others did. I don't think she hated me or anything, but I could tell that I didn't come off as a 100% to her, for whatever reason, I still have no clue.” The girl chatted away without much worry for her surroundings, approaching P.J's from some obscure angle because the Uber driver could not quite find his way around Delton. “Lastly, there's Lucas.” Hanna began but sighed slightly before continuing. “I really tried, Chat -- I REALLY did. It seemed like there were so many issues surrounding this boy that wasn't really his fault. There were also these nasty rumors floating around on social media back then, and I tried my best to sort of dispel all that. There was nasty shit, like, he was a you-know-what shooter and everything.” Hanna said but lowered her voice as she mentioned the shooter part, avoiding to put the words 'school' and 'shooter' together so that she would not get in trouble. The Chat started to spam 'MonkaS' with a few 'Pepehands' in there. “Maybe I shouldn't talk about all this stuff, holy shit -- I should learn to shut up, at least sometimes. Oh well, it's out there now.” Hanna said and stopped right outside of P.J's, observing the flow of the Chat, and reading comments. “Anyway, Chat, I'm going to close right here. I'd bring you guys in with me, but I have no idea how the others would react to that, so let's give 'em some privacy, eh? I'll be on again tomorrow.” Hanna said and kissed the air in front of the camera on the phone to the Chat, closing things down. Hanna was a bit distracted by the Stream. Even if she would have noticed Anni standing by the car, or rather just about to step out of it, Hanna might not have recognized her because of the hair and two years' worth of changes. Only brief moments separated the two from an outside encounter. Hanna managed to take a breath or two during the few seconds that she lingered in front of P. Johnson's main entrance. Okay, here we go. Deep breaths, in and out. I hope I don't make an ass out of myself, Hanna thought to herself but interrupted that moment of calm almost right away: “AAHH! Ivy!” A high-pitch screech swiftly escaped Hanna's stupidly wide smile and clenching eyes, lashes almost sticking together, as she stepped inside and felt the air of nostaliga. The girl nearly crashed into Ivory's presence at the bar for one of those hugs that only happens a few times throughout an entire lifetime.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO drive by} ^{Portland ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial The Elder Fae

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mickilennial

The Elder Fae

7941 posts

in 2786 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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It had been a long time since CJ had been on Route 125. Her butt planted on the seat of a old Indian Scout she found herself almost back within the shadows of her hometown of Delton, Maine. 

A place she would’ve never guessed she’d ever return to.

Even for a high school reunion.

Her High School experience, well, it wasn’t one she thought about often. Her pent up angst often led to her making fun of others. Her best friend from elementary school? She was dogmeat on the first day of High School. The queer kid who got sent to camp to ‘fix’ his homosexuality? Made it a big joke when he came back; even asked him if praying the gay away worked. The pretentious overachiever? Called her names and insulted her intelligence every chance she got. CJ may have been a short blonde girl, but for some she was a little devil. Didn’t really regret any of it, either.

A sigh leaves her lips as the big ‘Welcome to Delton’ sign greets her in the face. She drives past it.

“...Delton.” A mutter, buried underneath the motorcycle’s engine, “I fucking hate this place.”

Route 125 eventually turns into Main Street. Every single building she passes feels like a notched memory, one she hasn’t thought about in years. Some of them she doesn’t want to revisit. Most of them, actually. But if she hated this town so much, why did she fill out the form? Why didn’t she just delete the e-mail and move on in her life? It was a question she could not even answer for herself.

Maybe she just needed to see what happened to her. If she bet on the right horse. Rub it in. Feel happy for once. 

Despite everything going her way lately that was one thing CJ had trouble with: being happy. She hadn’t been happy since before the 7th Grade.

Sometimes she wished that was not the case.

By the time her motorcycle arrives at her destination, there’s a decent amount of traffic. A few vehicles litter the parking lot and there’s a shuffle to get inside P. Johnson’s. Parking face-forward to the door next to an empty spot she stops for a moment, almost like she was taking in the moment. She cuts the engine, removes her helmet, and stuffs her hand in her jacket’s pockets until she retrieves a lighter from the left and a pair of cigarettes on the right.

She presses her back against the wall, clenching the cigarette in between her teeth before the nicotine all settles in. One foot is bent back, pressing against the exterior wall. The other, on the ground. 

She’s not as short as she was in high school and a lot has changed. She must have looked out of it. With black coats of paint covering her fingernails, a t-shirt of some black metal band underneath her leathers, a christian cross around her neck–but only worn ironically, and faded blue-gray jeans, she doesn’t exactly look the part of a reunion guest. For some reunions were a place to look your best, for CJ… she looks like she doesn't have a care in the world. 

She feels like she’ll go inside when she’s bored of being outside.

Besides, she wants this smoke break.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
stuck here again — L7
route 125 ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: idk god
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_{It had been a long time since CJ had been on Route 125. Her butt planted on the seat of a old Indian Scout she found herself almost back within the shadows of her hometown of Delton, Maine. A place she would’ve never guessed she’d ever return to. Even for a high school reunion. Her High School experience, well, it wasn’t one she thought about often. Her pent up angst often led to her making fun of others. Her best friend from elementary school? She was dogmeat on the first day of High School. The queer kid who got sent to camp to ‘fix’ his homosexuality? Made it a big joke when he came back; even asked him if praying the gay away worked. The pretentious overachiever? Called her names and insulted her intelligence every chance she got. CJ may have been a short blonde girl, but for some she was a little devil. Didn’t really regret any of it, either. A sigh leaves her lips as the big ‘Welcome to Delton’ sign greets her in the face. She drives past it. “...Delton.” A mutter, buried underneath the motorcycle’s engine, “I fucking hate this place.” Route 125 eventually turns into Main Street. Every single building she passes feels like a notched memory, one she hasn’t thought about in years. Some of them she doesn’t want to revisit. Most of them, actually. But if she hated this town so much, why did she fill out the form? Why didn’t she just delete the e-mail and move on in her life? It was a question she could not even answer for herself. Maybe she just needed to see what happened to her. If she bet on the right horse. Rub it in. Feel happy for once. Despite everything going her way lately that was one thing CJ had trouble with: being happy. She hadn’t been happy since before the 7th Grade. Sometimes she wished that was not the case. By the time her motorcycle arrives at her destination, there’s a decent amount of traffic. A few vehicles litter the parking lot and there’s a shuffle to get inside P. Johnson’s. Parking face-forward to the door next to an empty spot she stops for a moment, almost like she was taking in the moment. She cuts the engine, removes her helmet, and stuffs her hand in her jacket’s pockets until she retrieves a lighter from the left and a pair of cigarettes on the right. She presses her back against the wall, clenching the cigarette in between her teeth before the nicotine all settles in. One foot is bent back, pressing against the exterior wall. The other, on the ground. She’s not as short as she was in high school and a lot has changed. She must have looked out of it. With black coats of paint covering her fingernails, a t-shirt of some black metal band underneath her leathers, a christian cross around her neck–but only worn ironically, and faded blue-gray jeans, she doesn’t exactly look the part of a reunion guest. For some reunions were a place to look your best, for CJ… she looks like she doesn't have a care in the world. She feels like she’ll go inside when she’s bored of being outside. Besides, she wants this smoke break.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO stuck here again — L7} ^{route 125 ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: idk god} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Mao Mao

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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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Mao Mao

Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

2342 posts

in 3162 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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Why did I listen to my therapist?

Lucas Watson winced in his seat at the sight of the 'Welcome to Delton' sign, surrounded by trimmed shrubs and vibrant flowers. He looked away from the bus window and focused on his phone, trying to suppress unpleasant memories of his upbringing in this miserable small town. The sweet jazz playing through his cheap gas station earphones somewhat kept the thoughts from sneaking up. But, of course, it got worse once the Greyhound bus arrived at Samuell Wells Rest, the bus station on the edge of town. He immediately began recalling that painful day, from the argument with his parents to his abrupt departure on a bus headed for Boston. Lucas made sure the volume for his music was increased to the max.

With nothing more than a travel bag sufficed for a straightforward weekend stay, Lucas intended to confirm his reservation at the most affordable hotel in town. That was until he saw a brochure for P. Johnson's on a leaflet display stand. It was pleasantly surprising to find that the brewpub was not only still in business, but also apparently thriving. Their seasoned breadsticks served with a side of dipping sauce was the best thing to come from Delton. Lucas took the brochure, skimmed the menu for new additions, and then decided to stop there for a quick snack. He told himself there was still plenty of time before the cut-off for check-in time at the hotel.

After walking for about ten minutes from the bus station, the parking lot was almost full, with several vehicles and a motorcycle parked there. Lucas watched from a distance as townsfolk began making their way inside, an indication that the atmosphere was about to get energized very soon. That made him wonder if he was about to see any familiar faces inside. Or who, if any, would recognize him. Five years had passed, after all. And that made him think about his parents. Were they still living along the coastline? Did they still visit town regularly? What about that damned church? Have they changed in five years? Sadly, Lucas had already known the answers.

He needed a smoke, and thankfully someone had a lighter.

Lucas made his way over toward the blonde woman, pulling out a cigarette from his cotton jacket. Too distracted with his thoughts to have a closer look at her. "May I borrow a light?" he asked while leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
scott street — phoebe bridgers
samuell wells stop▸ p. johnson's [parking lot]
interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM
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_{Why did I listen to my therapist? Lucas Watson winced in his seat at the sight of the 'Welcome to Delton' sign, surrounded by trimmed shrubs and vibrant flowers. He looked away from the bus window and focused on his phone, trying to suppress unpleasant memories of his upbringing in this miserable small town. The sweet jazz playing through his cheap gas station earphones somewhat kept the thoughts from sneaking up. But, of course, it got worse once the Greyhound bus arrived at Samuell Wells Rest, the bus station on the edge of town. He immediately began recalling that painful day, from the argument with his parents to his abrupt departure on a bus headed for Boston. Lucas made sure the volume for his music was increased to the max. With nothing more than a travel bag sufficed for a straightforward weekend stay, Lucas intended to confirm his reservation at the most affordable hotel in town. That was until he saw a brochure for P. Johnson's on a leaflet display stand. It was pleasantly surprising to find that the brewpub was not only still in business, but also apparently thriving. Their seasoned breadsticks served with a side of dipping sauce was the best thing to come from Delton. Lucas took the brochure, skimmed the menu for new additions, and then decided to stop there for a quick snack. He told himself there was still plenty of time before the cut-off for check-in time at the hotel. After walking for about ten minutes from the bus station, the parking lot was almost full, with several vehicles and a motorcycle parked there. Lucas watched from a distance as townsfolk began making their way inside, an indication that the atmosphere was about to get energized very soon. That made him wonder if he was about to see any familiar faces inside. Or who, if any, would recognize him. Five years had passed, after all. And that made him think about his parents. Were they still living along the coastline? Did they still visit town regularly? What about that damned church? Have they changed in five years? Sadly, Lucas had already known the answers. He needed a smoke, and thankfully someone had a lighter. Lucas made his way over toward the blonde woman, pulling out a cigarette from his cotton jacket. Too distracted with his thoughts to have a closer look at her. "May I borrow a light?" he asked while leaning against the wall, cigarette in hand.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO scott street — phoebe bridgers} ^{samuell wells stop▸ p. johnson's [parking lot] interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial The Elder Fae

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

mickilennial

The Elder Fae

7941 posts

in 2786 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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The blonde takes her lighter out of her pocket with her hand closest to the person who asked her for a light, flicking the flame on with a quick ‘click’ and holding it out for them to use. Her response however, is odd, but it is her sense of humor.

“...no.” CJ utters in a dry, monotone.

She had looked at the person before her. She didn’t recognize who they could be, but they did look close to her age. Chances are that they were part of the reunion event.

“What made you come back.” She asks, more of a statement than a question, though it comes from a belief they were one of her ex-classmates, “Place still sucks.”

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
stuck here again — L7
p. johnson's
interacting with: @Mao Mao
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_{The blonde takes her lighter out of her pocket with her hand closest to the person who asked her for a light, flicking the flame on with a quick ‘click’ and holding it out for them to use. Her response however, is odd, but it is her sense of humor. “...no.” CJ utters in a dry, monotone. She had looked at the person before her. She didn’t recognize who they could be, but they did look close to her age. Chances are that they were part of the reunion event. “What made you come back.” She asks, more of a statement than a question, though it comes from a belief they were one of her ex-classmates, “Place still sucks.”} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO stuck here again — L7} ^{p. johnson's interacting with: @Mao Mao} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by CaliforniaState

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coGM

CaliforniaState Biologist

Member Seen 12 hrs ago

CaliforniaState

Biologist

794 posts

in 3965 days

Seen 12 hrs ago

Bio

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“Are you sure my hair looks okay? I don’t know maybe I just need to touch up in the bathroom really quick before they get here. You think I have time? I have time right?” Ivy exhaled in a last minute self conscious frenzy. Her fingers twirled one of her many rungs of curly hair that extended well past her shoulder. The one thing that gave Ivy away when she was stressed, was her emphatic need to be touching or fiddling with something. And what seemed like a conversation to herself was more of her just talking at the bartender. He knew not where this new found camaraderie came from, for her it was the countless days she vented at him while planning the whole thing. 

“Your hair looks fine for the 12th time, your lucky I don’t double your tab—“

Before he could finish, she jumped up in excitement. 

“They’re here!” She shouted at him, not actually certain that anyone had arrived. Though the sound of a motorcycle and various other engines sputtering out gave her inclination to believe her assumption. Ivy straightened herself up from the bar, breathed into a cupped hand and then sniffed the air, teased her hair a few more times and cleared her throat. Silhouette’s of figures scattered about like shadows jumping from a flame. They just lingered there, making Ivy wonder if they just chose to ignore her detailed directions. 

It wasn’t much later that the first familiar face popped in. Hanna Whittle. The race to see who’s lips coiled up into a smile first was on. It was a photo finish, quickly interrupted by Hanna practically engulfing and tackling Ivy into the the bar stand. All the warmth and memories rushed back into her persons despite being out of touch for years now. Processing the moment, her arms worked their way up the small of her back into a deep embrace. 

“I would say you’re suffocating me, but I don’t mind at the moment. How are you? You look great as always.” 

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
grown up — danny brown
hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: barkeep
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_{“Are you sure my hair looks okay? I don’t know maybe I just need to touch up in the bathroom really quick before they get here. You think I have time? I have time right?” Ivy exhaled in a last minute self conscious frenzy. Her fingers twirled one of her many rungs of curly hair that extended well past her shoulder. The one thing that gave Ivy away when she was stressed, was her emphatic need to be touching or fiddling with something. And what seemed like a conversation to herself was more of her just talking at the bartender. He knew not where this new found camaraderie came from, for her it was the countless days she vented at him while planning the whole thing. “Your hair looks fine for the 12th time, your lucky I don’t double your tab—“ Before he could finish, she jumped up in excitement. “They’re here!” She shouted at him, not actually certain that anyone had arrived. Though the sound of a motorcycle and various other engines sputtering out gave her inclination to believe her assumption. Ivy straightened herself up from the bar, breathed into a cupped hand and then sniffed the air, teased her hair a few more times and cleared her throat. Silhouette’s of figures scattered about like shadows jumping from a flame. They just lingered there, making Ivy wonder if they just chose to ignore her detailed directions. It wasn’t much later that the first familiar face popped in. Hanna Whittle. The race to see who’s lips coiled up into a smile first was on. It was a photo finish, quickly interrupted by Hanna practically engulfing and tackling Ivy into the the bar stand. All the warmth and memories rushed back into her persons despite being out of touch for years now. Processing the moment, her arms worked their way up the small of her back into a deep embrace. “I would say you’re suffocating me, but I don’t mind at the moment. How are you? You look great as always.”} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO grown up — danny brown} ^{hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: barkeep} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Mao Mao

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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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Mao Mao

Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

2342 posts

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"What made you come back."

Lucas was admittedly caught off-guard by the question, not expecting it to come from a stranger. Still, the question was intriguing enough for him to entertain. At first, when that email was sent out, he was stubborn about not attending out of fear. Fear of reliving the dreadful years of adolescence. But then he talked to his therapist about it. They told him to go explaining that it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to resolve... well, everything. From his abusive strict parents to his oppressing time in that shitty high school. So, after much deliberation, Lucas brought a bus ticket to Delton, packed a travel bag, and replied to the email with a simple "will be there" response—all occurring last night in quick succession.

Upon using the lighter—the flame dancing along the wind—to lit his cigarette, Lucas had an answer to the woman's question. He inhaled and exhaled the smoke, holding the cigarette with his pointer and middle finger while shrugging nonchalantly as if he didn't spend time pondering on an answer, "Nothing. I doubt anyone, especially my folks, are still eagerly waiting for my return after five years gone."

Lucas inhaled and exhaled the smoke again but flicked off the fine gray ash from the tip of the cigarette. Noise from inside the establishment was getting louder, like it was enticing outsiders to come on in. So far, its trance was working on him; but first, he needed to finish. "No, I am doing this for me and me alone. I need to get my shit together and be a better person. And coming here's the first step, or so that's what my therapist told me yesterday."

"Although, I have to admit that the breadsticks were a pretty good incentive too." Lucas smirked at the woman, dropped his cigarette butt onto the asphalt, and crushed it with his combat boot. Then he made his way inside and was instantly overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The tightly packed tables exhibited indistinct chatter, the alt-rock playing on the sound system, and the picturesque drinks being served at the bar. It made him thirsty. So he went over to the bartender and placed his order for The Grey Fox (a non-alcoholic drink made with fresh lemon juice, rich earl grey syrup [earl grey tea and sugar], aquafaba, tonic water, and a sprig of lavender) and, of course, breadsticks with spicy marinara sauce. 

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
pride — american authors
parking lot ▸ p. johnson's [interior]
interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM
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_{"What made you come back." Lucas was admittedly caught off-guard by the question, not expecting it to come from a stranger. Still, the question was intriguing enough for him to entertain. At first, when that email was sent out, he was stubborn about not attending out of fear. Fear of reliving the dreadful years of adolescence. But then he talked to his therapist about it. They told him to go explaining that it was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to resolve... well, everything. From his abusive strict parents to his oppressing time in that shitty high school. So, after much deliberation, Lucas brought a bus ticket to Delton, packed a travel bag, and replied to the email with a simple "will be there" response—all occurring last night in quick succession. Upon using the lighter—the flame dancing along the wind—to lit his cigarette, Lucas had an answer to the woman's question. He inhaled and exhaled the smoke, holding the cigarette with his pointer and middle finger while shrugging nonchalantly as if he didn't spend time pondering on an answer, "Nothing. I doubt anyone, especially my folks, are still eagerly waiting for my return after five years gone." Lucas inhaled and exhaled the smoke again but flicked off the fine gray ash from the tip of the cigarette. Noise from inside the establishment was getting louder, like it was enticing outsiders to come on in. So far, its trance was working on him; but first, he needed to finish. "No, I am doing this for me and me alone. I need to get my shit together and be a better person. And coming here's the first step, or so that's what my therapist told me yesterday." "Although, I have to admit that the breadsticks were a pretty good incentive too." Lucas smirked at the woman, dropped his cigarette butt onto the asphalt, and crushed it with his combat boot. Then he made his way inside and was instantly overwhelmed by the atmosphere. The tightly packed tables exhibited indistinct chatter, the alt-rock playing on the sound system, and the picturesque drinks being served at the bar. It made him thirsty. So he went over to the bartender and placed his order for The Grey Fox (a non-alcoholic drink made with fresh lemon juice, rich earl grey syrup [earl grey tea and sugar], aquafaba, tonic water, and a sprig of lavender) and, of course, breadsticks with spicy marinara sauce.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO pride — american authors} ^{parking lot ▸ p. johnson's [interior] interacting with: cj markowitz/@TGM} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle

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Carlyle

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Carlyle

9471 posts

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Anni had made it two seconds into the building before it exploded into people yelling their heads off. She winced at the sound, the shrill hollering nearly bursting her eardrums. There was only one person capable of being that excited—Hanna Whittle, Miss Social Media Queen herself. Though the woman looked radically different from high school-era Hanna, Anni was pretty certain it had to be her; the screaming of Ivory's nickname only further confirming her suspicions.

Running her palm across an empty table, Anni chose to ignore her former classmates for now and walk towards the bar. She half-wondered if Hanna was still just as nosy as she had been in high school. It always seemed that Hanna wanted to pick Anni's brain; to know what was racking around in there. And despite each time Anni tried to push her away, Hanna never appeared to get the message, showing up the next day to pester her once more. It was like Anni had been dealing with a persistent fly that she had to keep swatting away.

If only you knew, Hanna. She thought. You would've never seen anyone else the same.

Once a rather scruffy-looking dude was done ordering, Anni approached the counter to flag down the bartender for an Allen's Coffee—a Cumberland county favorite. She didn't intend on getting drunk tonight, but one drink wasn't going to hurt. At most, it was going to loosen up the nerves she still had, and drone out the two "happy-go-lucky" lunatics that sat beside her at the counter.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
death of me — royal & the serpent
bar interior
interacting with: bartender
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_{Anni had made it two seconds into the building before it exploded into people yelling their heads off. She winced at the sound, the shrill hollering nearly bursting her eardrums. There was only one person capable of being that excited—Hanna Whittle, Miss Social Media Queen herself. Though the woman looked radically different from high school-era Hanna, Anni was pretty certain it had to be her; the screaming of Ivory's nickname only further confirming her suspicions. Running her palm across an empty table, Anni chose to ignore her former classmates for now and walk towards the bar. She half-wondered if Hanna was still just as nosy as she had been in high school. It always seemed that Hanna wanted to pick Anni's brain; to know what was racking around in there. And despite each time Anni tried to push her away, Hanna never appeared to get the message, showing up the next day to pester her once more. It was like Anni had been dealing with a persistent fly that she had to keep swatting away. If only you knew, Hanna. She thought. You would've never seen anyone else the same. Once a rather scruffy-looking dude was done ordering, Anni approached the counter to flag down the bartender for an Allen's Coffee—a Cumberland county favorite. She didn't intend on getting drunk tonight, but one drink wasn't going to hurt. At most, it was going to loosen up the nerves she still had, and drone out the two "happy-go-lucky" lunatics that sat beside her at the counter.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO death of me — royal & the serpent} ^{bar interior interacting with: bartender} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Mirandae

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Mirandae Prisk

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Mirandae

Prisk

1558 posts

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The familiar scent of her old friend filled Hanna with long-lost joy and a sense of purpose. They were quite the team back in the day, accomplishing things of all calibers with great effect. As they released from the embrace, Hanna had to shoot her gaze towards the ceiling in order to slow down the waterworks, pushing gently below her eyes to manage and prevent a mess. She was slightly emotionally eccentric these days, and nostalgia was like sprinkling water on cooking oil in a hot pan in this case. "Not this, holy fuck," her thoughts muttered before the chatterbox spun right up.

“Oh my Christ, I don't even know where to start. So much has happened since last time. By the way, I'm so sorry that I haven't contacted you, babe -- but there's literally been some fucked up shit distracting me all the time, and this Streaming thing is so time-consuming. Do you use Twitch at all or watch streamers? You totally should. I'll make you a supermod VIP in my Chat right away. Anyway, fuck, I love your hair--” Hanna managed to interrupt herself for a split second, gently feeling the soft texture of the tips of Ivy's hair. “I brought all kinds of stuff for you. I have this deal with a company and their product line through the, well, Instagram stuff, I don't know if you've seen that -- anyway, that's not important. So, I brought some of the stuff that I get for free, anyway, for promoting it, right -- there's foundation, mascara, all sorts of shit for your nails, absolutely amazing conditioner, you'll love it. It's all back at the hotel in Portland, but we'll take care of it after this thing, alright? You can't say no, because I ain't leaving until you come get it -- it'll be great, we can do a little shopping as well, on me.” Hanna's mouth ran at full throttle. It was clearly, without any shred of doubt or misconception, a sign of being extremely excited and elevated. "Right back to Ritman days, huh? I thought I had changed at least a little bit. I guess this is what reunions do. They slap you right in the face and tell you that you accomplished nothing," Hanna's mind wandered in the middle of her babbling.

“Wait -- is that Anni Simcox and Lucas Watson right over there?” Hanna half-whispered as she interrupted her megaphone of a mouth, abruptly enough to be somewhat noticeable against the sound bed of music in the background. Hanna waited a brief moment for Ivy to glance at them or in some way confirm it. “It is, right?” She added before throwing gasoline on her fiery loud voice again: “Anni, Lucas -- is that you? Hey! What the Hell, you guys don't say 'hello' or anything? Come and sit here with us, damn it.” Hanna waved at the two, just a few feet away, bright smiles all around to appear as inviting as possible to both of them. Reunions were probably worse than the first day of High School in terms of awkwardness and every other pain in the book. Although, luckily, they had Hanna Whittle there -- the biggest fucking Ice Breaker on this side of the planet. "Don't fuck this up, Banana. You only have 1 shot with these guys this time," she thought.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by
p. johnson's ▸ ?
interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro Lucas/@Mao Mao
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_{The familiar scent of her old friend filled Hanna with long-lost joy and a sense of purpose. They were quite the team back in the day, accomplishing things of all calibers with great effect. As they released from the embrace, Hanna had to shoot her gaze towards the ceiling in order to slow down the waterworks, pushing gently below her eyes to manage and prevent a mess. She was slightly emotionally eccentric these days, and nostalgia was like sprinkling water on cooking oil in a hot pan in this case. "Not this, holy fuck," her thoughts muttered before the chatterbox spun right up. “Oh my Christ, I don't even know where to start. So much has happened since last time. By the way, I'm so sorry that I haven't contacted you, babe -- but there's literally been some fucked up shit distracting me all the time, and this Streaming thing is so time-consuming. Do you use Twitch at all or watch streamers? You totally should. I'll make you a supermod VIP in my Chat right away. Anyway, fuck, I love your hair--” Hanna managed to interrupt herself for a split second, gently feeling the soft texture of the tips of Ivy's hair. “I brought all kinds of stuff for you. I have this deal with a company and their product line through the, well, Instagram stuff, I don't know if you've seen that -- anyway, that's not important. So, I brought some of the stuff that I get for free, anyway, for promoting it, right -- there's foundation, mascara, all sorts of shit for your nails, absolutely amazing conditioner, you'll love it. It's all back at the hotel in Portland, but we'll take care of it after this thing, alright? You can't say no, because I ain't leaving until you come get it -- it'll be great, we can do a little shopping as well, on me.” Hanna's mouth ran at full throttle. It was clearly, without any shred of doubt or misconception, a sign of being extremely excited and elevated. "Right back to Ritman days, huh? I thought I had changed at least a little bit. I guess this is what reunions do. They slap you right in the face and tell you that you accomplished nothing," Hanna's mind wandered in the middle of her babbling. “Wait -- is that Anni Simcox and Lucas Watson right over there?” Hanna half-whispered as she interrupted her megaphone of a mouth, abruptly enough to be somewhat noticeable against the sound bed of music in the background. Hanna waited a brief moment for Ivy to glance at them or in some way confirm it. “It is, right?” She added before throwing gasoline on her fiery loud voice again: “Anni, Lucas -- is that you? Hey! What the Hell, you guys don't say 'hello' or anything? Come and sit here with us, damn it.” Hanna waved at the two, just a few feet away, bright smiles all around to appear as inviting as possible to both of them. Reunions were probably worse than the first day of High School in terms of awkwardness and every other pain in the book. Although, luckily, they had Hanna Whittle there -- the biggest fucking Ice Breaker on this side of the planet. "Don't fuck this up, Banana. You only have 1 shot with these guys this time," she thought.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO drive by} ^{p. johnson's ▸ ? interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro Lucas/@Mao Mao} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle

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Carlyle

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Carlyle

9471 posts

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Bio

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Blah blah blah. Blah blah. Blah. Anni resisted the temptation to groan as she heard Hanna talk at fifty-miles-per-hour, no different than their time back at Ritman. She never did shut up, it seemed. Should've expected that one.

"No," She replied, yet with a dry, sarcastic tone. "I'd rather not."

Despite saying otherwise, however, Anni did just the complete opposite. Grabbing her drink, she scooted over towards their general direction, joining the two women on their side of the bar. Hanna was already headache-inducing, but what was the point of coming here if she didn't bother to interact? Her quest for revenge would've been a waste of time.

"Still the neighborhood chatterbox, huh?" Anni spoke nonchalantly, taking a sip of her drink.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
death of me — royal & the serpent
bar interior
interacting with: hanna @prisk
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_{Blah blah blah. Blah blah. Blah. Anni resisted the temptation to groan as she heard Hanna talk at fifty-miles-per-hour, no different than their time back at Ritman. She never did shut up, it seemed. Should've expected that one. "No," She replied, yet with a dry, sarcastic tone. "I'd rather not." Despite saying otherwise, however, Anni did just the complete opposite. Grabbing her drink, she scooted over towards their general direction, joining the two women on their side of the bar. Hanna was already headache-inducing, but what was the point of coming here if she didn't bother to interact? Her quest for revenge would've been a waste of time. "Still the neighborhood chatterbox, huh?" Anni spoke nonchalantly, taking a sip of her drink.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO death of me — royal & the serpent} ^{bar interior interacting with: hanna @prisk} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by CaliforniaState

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coGM

CaliforniaState Biologist

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CaliforniaState

Biologist

794 posts

in 3965 days

Seen 12 hrs ago

Bio

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She couldn’t help but detect there was something familiar under the spritz and puffs of perfume that made up most of Hanna’s scent nowadays before her arms loosened and the two pulled away. Noticing the whimsy of it all pry at her emotions made the always empathic Ivory begin to tear as well. Her eyes grew glossy and she could feel her hands clench ensuring she didn’t also cry and annoy the rest of their peers even more. And then she started and once you got the girl started there was no telling when she would stop or how her lungs even contained that much oxygen in short supply. 

While Ivory didn’t command the most presence on social media platforms, she wasn’t a stranger to them. Not of her own volition of course, but the need to bring awareness to the problems that she found important at a local and federal level. So I guess you can say it was also of her own will despite it being framed as work. Her posts to sign petitions, and call your local government rep, and volunteer events were rather a far cry from the gossip and podcasts that Hanna was dishing out or being hosted on. Ivory would also be lying if she didn’t indulge in her high school besties social status from time to time, but only a lurker at that. Her fake friends did enough commenting for her. 

“Oh no you’re fine, I get it but I guess in a different setting. You know how it is with work and the affluent geriatrics still dictating policy. I have more Twitter fingers than anything else nowadays.” There was some slight dejection in her reply, sad that the two of them had fallen out of touch and made her wonder if they would be able to resuscitate their bond or if she would fade out. “I do, I mostly just watch whoever’s on just chatting, but I do like Hasanabi. There’s a lot of those jacuzzi streams now.” Normally for any white girl to point out how nice Ivy’s hair was followed by immediately touching it or asking to touch it resulted in a micro aggression physical response. However, growing up, the two of them had plenty of sleep overs where they did all sorts of cosmopolitan styling of hair. It had been a minute so she did tense up for a split second. She guessed the bartender wasn’t lying. 

She sliced from topic to topic with ease, something Ivy was kinda jealous of. Although the prospect of being showered in luxury gifts ranging from clothes to perfumes to make up did make her smile. Again, in high school they shared almost everything being similar in size. It was a gift back then, but Ivy is a little more curvy than when she was in high school. Plus, she only really bought herself clothes as a treat during special occasions. It wasn’t that she didn’t have money, but more so that she never really needed clothes outside of her formal work wear. “I think a girls night would be just what you and I both need” it was then that Ivy realized just how lonely she was, masked behind hours of work she used to distract herself. 

Ivy didn’t get much in the way of a response to much of Hanna’s rant, knowing that they would catch up on their own time. “Uhmmm your guess is as good as mine, I think this is as much of a round of guess who as it’s going to get. So much for being the class president” she reached a hand back to cup her glass before bringing it to her lips and taking a sip that led into a gulp. At least Hanna was doing the lions share of the work that Ivy was too sober and nervous to do. Working with out of touch conservatives seemed a million times easier than this. 

“Anni! Hi, thank you for making it out tonight and accepting my invitation. I’m sure you and the others hesitated accepting and not sending it to your spam folder. I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I’m really glad you’re hear and excited to know how you’ve been. You look great, if everyone else could see you now” oh god, now she was the one babbling, maybe the hug spread Hanna’s bug to her or maybe it was just her nerves, either way she stopped herself.   

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
grown up — danny brown
hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's
interacting with: @Prisk@Kuro
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_{She couldn’t help but detect there was something familiar under the spritz and puffs of perfume that made up most of Hanna’s scent nowadays before her arms loosened and the two pulled away. Noticing the whimsy of it all pry at her emotions made the always empathic Ivory begin to tear as well. Her eyes grew glossy and she could feel her hands clench ensuring she didn’t also cry and annoy the rest of their peers even more. And then she started and once you got the girl started there was no telling when she would stop or how her lungs even contained that much oxygen in short supply. While Ivory didn’t command the most presence on social media platforms, she wasn’t a stranger to them. Not of her own volition of course, but the need to bring awareness to the problems that she found important at a local and federal level. So I guess you can say it was also of her own will despite it being framed as work. Her posts to sign petitions, and call your local government rep, and volunteer events were rather a far cry from the gossip and podcasts that Hanna was dishing out or being hosted on. Ivory would also be lying if she didn’t indulge in her high school besties social status from time to time, but only a lurker at that. Her fake friends did enough commenting for her. “Oh no you’re fine, I get it but I guess in a different setting. You know how it is with work and the affluent geriatrics still dictating policy. I have more Twitter fingers than anything else nowadays.” There was some slight dejection in her reply, sad that the two of them had fallen out of touch and made her wonder if they would be able to resuscitate their bond or if she would fade out. “I do, I mostly just watch whoever’s on just chatting, but I do like Hasanabi. There’s a lot of those jacuzzi streams now.” Normally for any white girl to point out how nice Ivy’s hair was followed by immediately touching it or asking to touch it resulted in a micro aggression physical response. However, growing up, the two of them had plenty of sleep overs where they did all sorts of cosmopolitan styling of hair. It had been a minute so she did tense up for a split second. She guessed the bartender wasn’t lying. She sliced from topic to topic with ease, something Ivy was kinda jealous of. Although the prospect of being showered in luxury gifts ranging from clothes to perfumes to make up did make her smile. Again, in high school they shared almost everything being similar in size. It was a gift back then, but Ivy is a little more curvy than when she was in high school. Plus, she only really bought herself clothes as a treat during special occasions. It wasn’t that she didn’t have money, but more so that she never really needed clothes outside of her formal work wear. “I think a girls night would be just what you and I both need” it was then that Ivy realized just how lonely she was, masked behind hours of work she used to distract herself. Ivy didn’t get much in the way of a response to much of Hanna’s rant, knowing that they would catch up on their own time. “Uhmmm your guess is as good as mine, I think this is as much of a round of guess who as it’s going to get. So much for being the class president” she reached a hand back to cup her glass before bringing it to her lips and taking a sip that led into a gulp. At least Hanna was doing the lions share of the work that Ivy was too sober and nervous to do. Working with out of touch conservatives seemed a million times easier than this. “Anni! Hi, thank you for making it out tonight and accepting my invitation. I’m sure you and the others hesitated accepting and not sending it to your spam folder. I know I can be a lot sometimes, but I’m really glad you’re hear and excited to know how you’ve been. You look great, if everyone else could see you now” oh god, now she was the one babbling, maybe the hug spread Hanna’s bug to her or maybe it was just her nerves, either way she stopped herself.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO grown up — danny brown} ^{hilton suites ▸ p. johnson's interacting with: @Prisk@Kuro} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by skidcrow

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skidcrow

Member Seen 7 mos ago

skidcrow

1751 posts

in 2781 days

Seen 7 mos ago

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So maybe Jack had neglected to check the RSVP list before crashing the party. But, shit, she seriously isn’t expecting the sight that greets her when she pulls up to P.J’s.

The motorcycle’s engine cuts dead—parked right next to a mean-looking Scout, what the fuck—and Jack moves with swift muscle memory, slipping her helmet off and depositing it on the seat, all the while her eyes barely tear away from the blonde standing against the wall. CJ fucking Markowitz, smoking with… well, Jack sorta can’t tell.

Her phone burns a hole in her jeans as she stands like a deer in headlights and she quickly rips it from her pocket, switching on the screen to be met with the notification of Erica’s missed call a few minutes ago. She can’t bring herself to call Erica back, the same way she can’t bring herself to move a few paces past CJ and straight into P.J’s. Somehow, being one of (apparently) several gays in the village still causes the biggest problems for her.

CJ’s new smoke buddy makes his leave and retreats into the glowing interior, Jack’s window of opportunity leaving with him. It’s just the two of them outside now. Jack can feel the fresh Maine air on her skin, and the lack of any significantly sized buildings in Delton leaves the surrounding wilderness free to view from any angle, yet she feels more trapped than if she were in a fucking Saw trap. Two seconds into her high school reunion and she’s already stuck between a rock and a CJ.

Swallowing to combat her suddenly dry throat, Jack jams her phone back in her pocket and approaches cautiously, arms folded.

“Figured you’d be the last person to show up at this thing.”

Because CJ, unlike Jack, actually managed to get the fuck out of this place. She was free and clear of Delton, and yet here she is, dragging her chains back like she’s about to warn Jack of three ghostly specters visiting her tonight.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
so good — warpaint
p. johnson’s
interacting with: @TGM
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_{So maybe Jack had neglected to check the RSVP list before crashing the party. But, shit, she seriously isn’t expecting the sight that greets her when she pulls up to P.J’s. The motorcycle’s engine cuts dead—parked right next to a mean-looking Scout, what the fuck—and Jack moves with swift muscle memory, slipping her helmet off and depositing it on the seat, all the while her eyes barely tear away from the blonde standing against the wall. CJ fucking Markowitz, smoking with… well, Jack sorta can’t tell. Her phone burns a hole in her jeans as she stands like a deer in headlights and she quickly rips it from her pocket, switching on the screen to be met with the notification of Erica’s missed call a few minutes ago. She can’t bring herself to call Erica back, the same way she can’t bring herself to move a few paces past CJ and straight into P.J’s. Somehow, being one of (apparently) several gays in the village still causes the biggest problems for her. CJ’s new smoke buddy makes his leave and retreats into the glowing interior, Jack’s window of opportunity leaving with him. It’s just the two of them outside now. Jack can feel the fresh Maine air on her skin, and the lack of any significantly sized buildings in Delton leaves the surrounding wilderness free to view from any angle, yet she feels more trapped than if she were in a fucking Saw trap. Two seconds into her high school reunion and she’s already stuck between a rock and a CJ. Swallowing to combat her suddenly dry throat, Jack jams her phone back in her pocket and approaches cautiously, arms folded. “Figured you’d be the last person to show up at this thing.” Because CJ, unlike Jack, actually managed to get the fuck out of this place. She was free and clear of Delton, and yet here she is, dragging her chains back like she’s about to warn Jack of three ghostly specters visiting her tonight.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO so good — warpaint} ^{p. johnson’s interacting with: @TGM} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial The Elder Fae

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mickilennial

The Elder Fae

7941 posts

in 2786 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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Not that CJ got all that far from Delton.

Still, she can’t be not amused by the circumstances. Had she decided to go inside, she wouldn’t be facing Jack for the first time in years. 

“Jackie.” she takes a long drag from the cigarette, looking up to the sky and airing it out before looking back at her former classmate, “Wasn’t expecting you to show up, either.”

It was almost like she was silenting saying ‘because you bail on everyone and everything in your life’. Jack could probably hear it in her head, like a rattling chain. That was CJ’s intention anyway. Pairing it with her old name for her probably didn’t make the rattle any quieter. CJ didn’t call her JD or Jack or Wilkerson. That had not changed. She finishes her cigarette, tossing it on the ground before stomping it out–all without breaking eye contact.

“Turns out, you can actually commit to something.”

She turns and walks into the bar without another word.

The loud music and the crowd does not bother her. Hanna Whittle screaming across the bar at two of her other former classmates does. She looks over to the table all of her former classmates are sitting at and after downing her drink she decides to head over and give this whole reunion idea a try.

“Bumped into Jackie outside. She’ll probably be in soon...” she remarks, volunteering the information, before adding to it after a short pause. “...if she doesn’t dip.”

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
stuck here again — L7
p. johnson's
interacting with: @nodogs; [the table]
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_{Not that CJ got all that far from Delton. Still, she can’t be not amused by the circumstances. Had she decided to go inside, she wouldn’t be facing Jack for the first time in years. “Jackie.” she takes a long drag from the cigarette, looking up to the sky and airing it out before looking back at her former classmate, “Wasn’t expecting you to show up, either.” It was almost like she was silenting saying ‘because you bail on everyone and everything in your life’. Jack could probably hear it in her head, like a rattling chain. That was CJ’s intention anyway. Pairing it with her old name for her probably didn’t make the rattle any quieter. CJ didn’t call her JD or Jack or Wilkerson. That had not changed. She finishes her cigarette, tossing it on the ground before stomping it out–all without breaking eye contact. “Turns out, you can actually commit to something.” She turns and walks into the bar without another word. The loud music and the crowd does not bother her. Hanna Whittle screaming across the bar at two of her other former classmates does. She looks over to the table all of her former classmates are sitting at and after downing her drink she decides to head over and give this whole reunion idea a try. “Bumped into Jackie outside. She’ll probably be in soon...” she remarks, volunteering the information, before adding to it after a short pause. “...if she doesn’t dip.”} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO stuck here again — L7} ^{p. johnson's interacting with: @nodogs; [the table]} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by Mirandae

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Mirandae Prisk

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Mirandae

Prisk

1558 posts

in 3965 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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Hanna tilted her head slightly at Anni's initial response. Although, Hanna kept the warm, inviting smile in an attempt to use Jedi mind tricks on the gal -- and it worked! Anni seemed reluctant in her surrender, going against all of her instincts, but it was impressive that she even considered it to begin with. Hanna momentarily raised both of her eyebrows at the comment about being the neighborhood chatterbox, although in good spirits. “How could you tell?” she chuckled. Anni's flippant attitude suited her much better now, especially with that new look. Hanna let her eyes throw a quick glance at the girl from head to toe -- it was pulled off surprisingly well.

Ivory seemed to be a little bit off her game. She sounded more like a politician trying to convince an uninterested voter than an old classmate. However, this was Ivy's strength back then. She really had that high-society, high-effort thing down to a tee. “Will you relax, babe? We're not trying to sway voters here,” Hanna said with a rapid pace and at a reduced tone, meant only for Ivy, even if Anni would clearly be able to hear it. “You do look amazing, Anni. I just love what you've done with your hair. It really suits you, and the look you're going for here. Absolutely stellar --” Hanna fired up while starting to rumble through her handbag for her wallet. “Bartender!” She nearly shouted, busting herself as it happened, quickly covering her mouth to shut herself up. “Bartender,” Hanna began again after the man's attention had arrived: “Could I have a good old Screwdriver, please, and I'd also like to pay for everyone here,” she said and discretely indicated Ivy, Anni, and Lucas. “And I don't want to hear anything from you--” Hanna stared at Ivy for a split second. If it was not clear that it was about the money, then she would have to spill it out in plain English later. “Or anyone else for that matter,” she said and returned eye contact with the bartender. “And that's that. We're going to have a good fucking time tonight,” Hanna promptly concluded and handed the Bartender her credit card. “I have no idea why everyone gushes over Hasanabi so much, he's not that fucking hot,” Hanna followed up her order with her famous 720-spin turnaround in topics of discussion.

CJ introduced herself to the modest gathering in an ever so casual way, as one would expect. Hanna's smile crept back onto her lips after the momentary bewilderment concerning a political meme streamer, of all things. “Drinks on me CJ, so help yourself to whatever you want,” Hanna said and indicated to the bartender to include CJ in Hanna's tab. “I'm not trying to suck anyone's dick here, but I don't e-whore for nothing, so we might as well put that simp money to good use.” Hanna had been quite unfiltered in her speech during High School, but her adventures online ever since had certainly loosened up her language use by some margin, to say the least. There was such a thing as talking too much even in Hanna's mind. It was without doubt a nervous defensive mechanism. She was no stranger to being social, but that did not mean that Hanna was completely immune to its various intricacies and conundrums. However, she figured that staying loose and not making a huge thing out of not having seen each other for some time was the best way to go about this reunion.

Hanna finally shut her mouth for a second while watching the bartender get her drink ready.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by
p. johnson's ▸ ?
interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro CJ/@TGM
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_{Hanna tilted her head slightly at Anni's initial response. Although, Hanna kept the warm, inviting smile in an attempt to use Jedi mind tricks on the gal -- and it worked! Anni seemed reluctant in her surrender, going against all of her instincts, but it was impressive that she even considered it to begin with. Hanna momentarily raised both of her eyebrows at the comment about being the neighborhood chatterbox, although in good spirits. “How could you tell?” she chuckled. Anni's flippant attitude suited her much better now, especially with that new look. Hanna let her eyes throw a quick glance at the girl from head to toe -- it was pulled off surprisingly well. Ivory seemed to be a little bit off her game. She sounded more like a politician trying to convince an uninterested voter than an old classmate. However, this was Ivy's strength back then. She really had that high-society, high-effort thing down to a tee. “Will you relax, babe? We're not trying to sway voters here,” Hanna said with a rapid pace and at a reduced tone, meant only for Ivy, even if Anni would clearly be able to hear it. “You do look amazing, Anni. I just love what you've done with your hair. It really suits you, and the look you're going for here. Absolutely stellar --” Hanna fired up while starting to rumble through her handbag for her wallet. “Bartender!” She nearly shouted, busting herself as it happened, quickly covering her mouth to shut herself up. “Bartender,” Hanna began again after the man's attention had arrived: “Could I have a good old Screwdriver, please, and I'd also like to pay for everyone here,” she said and discretely indicated Ivy, Anni, and Lucas. “And I don't want to hear anything from you--” Hanna stared at Ivy for a split second. If it was not clear that it was about the money, then she would have to spill it out in plain English later. “Or anyone else for that matter,” she said and returned eye contact with the bartender. “And that's that. We're going to have a good fucking time tonight,” Hanna promptly concluded and handed the Bartender her credit card. “I have no idea why everyone gushes over Hasanabi so much, he's not that fucking hot,” Hanna followed up her order with her famous 720-spin turnaround in topics of discussion. CJ introduced herself to the modest gathering in an ever so casual way, as one would expect. Hanna's smile crept back onto her lips after the momentary bewilderment concerning a political meme streamer, of all things. “Drinks on me CJ, so help yourself to whatever you want,” Hanna said and indicated to the bartender to include CJ in Hanna's tab. “I'm not trying to suck anyone's dick here, but I don't e-whore for nothing, so we might as well put that simp money to good use.” Hanna had been quite unfiltered in her speech during High School, but her adventures online ever since had certainly loosened up her language use by some margin, to say the least. There was such a thing as talking too much even in Hanna's mind. It was without doubt a nervous defensive mechanism. She was no stranger to being social, but that did not mean that Hanna was completely immune to its various intricacies and conundrums. However, she figured that staying loose and not making a huge thing out of not having seen each other for some time was the best way to go about this reunion. Hanna finally shut her mouth for a second while watching the bartender get her drink ready.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO drive by} ^{p. johnson's ▸ ? interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro CJ/@TGM} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle

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Carlyle

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Carlyle

9471 posts

in 3712 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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"Anyone's guess."

Anni raised an eyebrow at their compliments, clearly not buying their friendliness. "Oh, Anni, you look great!" felt more like a façade than a true confidence booster. It reminded her of when Taylor Barton complimented her homecoming outfit, only for Anni to overhear her snickering to her friends about how ugly she looked. Eugh. So backhanded.

"I doubt it'd be any different than before, Ivory. It'd probably go something like," Anni began, putting on a terrible imitation voice. "'Oh, look, the geek thinks she's something!' Bunch of cunts."

Though Anni was more than capable of paying for herself, she admittedly didn't have any qualms to Hanna announcing her intention to pay for everyone's drinks. It wasn't her money that they were going to be burning through, after all. Free shit was free shit. You didn't complain when you scored a deal like that. That said, given what she had been planning for tonight, she figured Hanna would come to regret including her in by the end of this.

Whatever. That wasn't Anni's problem to deal with. It'd be Hanna's issue, not hers.

Despite all the big game Anni was planning on, however, the worst possible person (or maybe the best, she still wasn't sure) showed up, joining their conversation. The name—that fuckin' voice—prompted shivers down her spine, her anxiety shooting through the roof of PJ's. Of course it had to be CJ of all people. CJ fucking Markowitz, once best friend, now "bitch who stabbed her in the back". Anni had seen her name on the RSVP list, but she wasn't entirely certain CJ would come in the end. And yet here she was, in all her pale glory.

"CJ." Anni coldly responded, turning to face her. "It's been awhile. Doubt you remember your 'best friend', though."

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
death of me — royal & the serpent
bar interior
interacting with: hanna @prisk, ivory @salsa verde, cj @tgm
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_{"Anyone's guess." Anni raised an eyebrow at their compliments, clearly not buying their friendliness. "Oh, Anni, you look great!" felt more like a façade than a true confidence booster. It reminded her of when Taylor Barton complimented her homecoming outfit, only for Anni to overhear her snickering to her friends about how ugly she looked. Eugh. So backhanded. "I doubt it'd be any different than before, Ivory. It'd probably go something like," Anni began, putting on a terrible imitation voice. "'Oh, look, the geek thinks she's something!' Bunch of cunts." Though Anni was more than capable of paying for herself, she admittedly didn't have any qualms to Hanna announcing her intention to pay for everyone's drinks. It wasn't her money that they were going to be burning through, after all. Free shit was free shit. You didn't complain when you scored a deal like that. That said, given what she had been planning for tonight, she figured Hanna would come to regret including her in by the end of this. Whatever. That wasn't Anni's problem to deal with. It'd be Hanna's issue, not hers. Despite all the big game Anni was planning on, however, the worst possible person (or maybe the best, she still wasn't sure) showed up, joining their conversation. The name—that fuckin' voice—prompted shivers down her spine, her anxiety shooting through the roof of PJ's. Of course it had to be CJ of all people. CJ fucking Markowitz, once best friend, now "bitch who stabbed her in the back". Anni had seen her name on the RSVP list, but she wasn't entirely certain CJ would come in the end. And yet here she was, in all her pale glory. "CJ." Anni coldly responded, turning to face her. "It's been awhile. Doubt you remember your 'best friend', though."} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO death of me — royal & the serpent} ^{bar interior interacting with: hanna @prisk, ivory @salsa verde, cj @tgm} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Mao Mao

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Mao Mao Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

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Mao Mao

Sheriff of Pure Hearts (They/Them)

2342 posts

in 3162 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

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Hanna Whittle seemed to act precisely like the babbler everybody knew from high school. Never did learn when to stop talking or use a filter though. Still, it was good to see that some people never change after graduation. But then, there was Anni Simcox. She appeared to be the same old desperate-to-fit-in mascot everyone either sidestepped or used as a personal punching bag. But underneath that red leather jacket, there was something completely different about her, but it was hard to figure out what changed in five years. Lucas didn't have time to react before more familiar faces started arriving for the main event. So he opted to wait for his drink and breadsticks at the bar before meeting up with everyone.

Ivory Williams was still quite a surprise to see lounging at a small town pub, even though she was the one that organized this whole reunion. Nevertheless, it was relatively straightforward to understand the motivations of an old acquaintance. Even if she (and their inner circle) did sorta ghost him after tenth grade. Lucas had long forgiven them for ditching a sinking anchor, making her company— after seven long years—a pleasant sight to behold. And then there was that woman with the lighter, who turned out to be CJ Markowitz. He should've been embarrassed to not have realized soon, but deep down, he was grateful for the brief moment of calm between them with a simple smoke break as complete strangers.

But, of course, now he had to actively restrain himself from groaning at her "jokes."

When his drink and breadsticks finally arrived at the bar, Lucas made sure to pay for it before taking his seat at the table. "I was waiting for my drink." Lucas finally responded nonchalantly to Hanna, referring to her question earlier. Then, he grabbed a breadstick from the tray and proceeded to eat it. Of course, it was still as mouthwatering as it was five years ago. Lucas took another one and jokingly pointed it at her while finishing his answer, "And my breadsticks, of course."

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
liability — lorde
p. johnson's [interior] ▸
interacting with: hanna whittle/@Prisk
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔


_{Hanna Whittle seemed to act precisely like the babbler everybody knew from high school. Never did learn when to stop talking or use a filter though. Still, it was good to see that some people never change after graduation. But then, there was Anni Simcox. She appeared to be the same old desperate-to-fit-in mascot everyone either sidestepped or used as a personal punching bag. But underneath that red leather jacket, there was something completely different about her, but it was hard to figure out what changed in five years. Lucas didn't have time to react before more familiar faces started arriving for the main event. So he opted to wait for his drink and breadsticks at the bar before meeting up with everyone. Ivory Williams was still quite a surprise to see lounging at a small town pub, even though she was the one that organized this whole reunion. Nevertheless, it was relatively straightforward to understand the motivations of an old acquaintance. Even if she (and their inner circle) did sorta ghost him after tenth grade. Lucas had long forgiven them for ditching a sinking anchor, making her company— after seven long years—a pleasant sight to behold. And then there was that woman with the lighter, who turned out to be CJ Markowitz. He should've been embarrassed to not have realized soon, but deep down, he was grateful for the brief moment of calm between them with a simple smoke break as complete strangers. But, of course, now he had to actively restrain himself from groaning at her "jokes." When his drink and breadsticks finally arrived at the bar, Lucas made sure to pay for it before taking his seat at the table. "I was waiting for my drink." Lucas finally responded nonchalantly to Hanna, referring to her question earlier. Then, he grabbed a breadstick from the tray and proceeded to eat it. Of course, it was still as mouthwatering as it was five years ago. Lucas took another one and jokingly pointed it at her while finishing his answer, "And my breadsticks, of course."} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO liability — lorde} ^{p. johnson's [interior] ▸ interacting with: hanna whittle/@Prisk} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by mickilennial

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mickilennial The Elder Fae

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

mickilennial

The Elder Fae

7941 posts

in 2786 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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Well, someone was into her feelings.

CJ and Anni were pretty tight once, that was true, but that had all been during elementary school. The fact Anni was still holding onto the fact that she ditched her by the time high school rolled around amused the blonde. There was a small part of her that regretted how she treated her in high school, but given what her life had turned into since her dad’s suicide she basically saw Anni as one of many easy targets that attended Ritman. It was her motto back then; make everyone feel worse than you felt. Wasn’t much different than her current one, either.

She snickers before bursting into a laugh as she shook her head.

“That’s all you got for me?” she remarks, “I don’t care.”

She looks back to Hanna, before anyone else can respond to her little back-and-forth with Anni.

“Well, I guess if you’re paying my tab I’ll go order something to eat.” she remarks, almost pausing to say thank you but decides not to before she heads up to the bar with a menu in hand.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
stuck here again — L7
p. johnson's
interacting with: [the table]
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_{Well, someone was into her feelings. CJ and Anni were pretty tight once, that was true, but that had all been during elementary school. The fact Anni was still holding onto the fact that she ditched her by the time high school rolled around amused the blonde. There was a small part of her that regretted how she treated her in high school, but given what her life had turned into since her dad’s suicide she basically saw Anni as one of many easy targets that attended Ritman. It was her motto back then; make everyone feel worse than you felt. Wasn’t much different than her current one, either. She snickers before bursting into a laugh as she shook her head. “That’s all you got for me?” she remarks, “I don’t care.” She looks back to Hanna, before anyone else can respond to her little back-and-forth with Anni. “Well, I guess if you’re paying my tab I’ll go order something to eat.” she remarks, almost pausing to say thank you but decides not to before she heads up to the bar with a menu in hand.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO stuck here again — L7} ^{p. johnson's interacting with: [the table]} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago → 2 yrs ago Post by Carlyle

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Carlyle

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Carlyle

9471 posts

in 3712 days

Seen 0-24 hrs ago

Bio

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It would've been a lie to say that Anni didn't expect CJ's indifference. After all, CJ hadn't given a single shit about her throughout high school, so why would she now? They were supposed to be tight. Best friends forever. And yet, CJ had chosen to throw it all away when she chose to feed Anni to the wolves, even going as far as to join the wolves in their ritualistic torment. Years of friendship went down the drain. Gone. Just like that.

"I know." Anni abruptly snapped in reply. "You haven't given a shit in years."

Once CJ walked off, Anni slumped back in her chair. This was supposed to be their miserable night. And yet, CJ found the perfect place—the weak spot in her armor—to poke at.  Granted, it was an incredibly obvious weak spot, one that anyone could've seen from a mile away. Her comment had clearly annoyed Anni, who desperately wanted to wipe the smugness off her face. The following laughter was just insult to injury; the icing on the cake.

Fuckin' bitch.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
death of me — royal & the serpent
bar interior
interacting with: cj @tgm
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_{It would've been a lie to say that Anni didn't expect CJ's indifference. After all, CJ hadn't given a single shit about her throughout high school, so why would she now? They were supposed to be tight. Best friends forever. And yet, CJ had chosen to throw it all away when she chose to feed Anni to the wolves, even going as far as to join the wolves in their ritualistic torment. Years of friendship went down the drain. Gone. Just like that. "I know." Anni abruptly snapped in reply. "You haven't given a shit in years." Once CJ walked off, Anni slumped back in her chair. This was supposed to be their miserable night. And yet, CJ found the perfect place—the weak spot in her armor—to poke at. Granted, it was an incredibly obvious weak spot, one that anyone could've seen from a mile away. Her comment had clearly annoyed Anni, who desperately wanted to wipe the smugness off her face. The following laughter was just insult to injury; the icing on the cake. Fuckin' bitch.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO death of me — royal & the serpent} ^{bar interior interacting with: cj @tgm} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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Hidden 2 yrs ago Post by skidcrow

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skidcrow

Member Seen 7 mos ago

skidcrow

1751 posts

in 2781 days

Seen 7 mos ago

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She flinches. Nobody else calls her Jackie. Nobody has called her Jackie since CJ, and Jack flinches because she isn’t expecting it. She isn’t expecting any of this.

Her fingers twitch for a cigarette while she watches CJ disappear inside, left only with her final remark and the slowly-building chatter that pushes through the windows like a low hum. Sometimes, Jack would get the last word in, but it was mostly CJ. It’s always fucking CJ.

Another cigarette so soon would practically be chainsmoking, and Jack isn’t really in need of a smoke, but she needs something to do. Something that isn’t being stuck in P.J’s all night with the worst reminder of high school the universe could throw at her, all while having nowhere else to go because her adult life isn’t faring much better.

Jack paws at her phone again, fumbling to flip it the right way up and stare at the missed call notification again until it burns into her retinas.

											Jack:
						        we can talk in the morning

Fuck no. Erica would flay her alive if she sent that.

											Jack:
											at pj’s

Nope.

											Jack:
								at pj’s. i can talk later

No.
											Jack:
										  i love you

No, no, fucking no.

Jack switches her phone all the way off and runs a frustrated hand through her hair. Is this how people usually feel? Constantly fucked over with a thousand things to deal with? Fuck this. If Jack’s gonna commit to this, she’s gonna commit.

With one last look over at her bike to check everything’s secure, and a firm kick to CJ’s with the side of her foot, Jack tucks her hands in the pockets of her leather bomber and strides into P.J’s, warm air settling on her cheeks as she makes a direct line for the bar. Some shitty synth pop song plays over the speakers—clearly Casey’s not in charge of the playlist tonight she thinks, watching him walk down the bar to her while the other bartender on shift deals with what can only be the Ritman group. She tries peering through the thin crowd to see who else is attending, but one glimpse of bleach blonde has her staring back down at the bartop.

“Shit, dude, did it go that badly?” Casey whispers as Jack’s attention remains fixed on the small gathering. Smoke guy from outside carries a drink and some food to the table, and that’s when Jack makes him—it’s Lucas fucking Watson. At least she won’t be the only one having a miserable time tonight. She tries to catch a look at the faces sitting at the table now there’s a clearer view, but misses her opportunity right as Lucas sits down.

Jack focuses back on Casey, who’s giving her a look that says she just completely ignored everything he just said.

“Yeah, kinda having a shitty night,” she supplies, trying so hard to look out the corner of her eye that it starts giving her a headache.

“Okay, well, holy shit, Cyclops. I’ll get you a drink before your head explodes.” Casey placates, palms spread. He disappears in a blur of his black P.J’s uniform and pastel orange undercut, digging about at the other end of the bar. Jack can probably guess what he’s fixing her up.

He returns post-haste, drink in one hand and card machine in the other.

“Am I paying or drinking first?” Jack queries, pulling out her wallet. It’s one of those fancy metal ones that every annoying tech bro with a Bitcoin account has, where the cards slide up for use. She got an off brand one at a heavy discount, but she hasn’t lost a single card since she started using it, so she guesses it’s the kind of worthwhile investment you make as an adult.

“You know customers don’t get to sample the product,” Casey remarks. “But since you kinda look like shit… it’s a shot of every rum we have, enough fruit juice to make your grandma shit herself, and a tipple of vodka.” He grins, waving the card machine in Jack’s face. She squints at the total displayed and winces, begrudgingly tapping her card on the screen.

“You’re lucky I like you,” Jack sneers into her drink. Casey balls the receipt up and expertly tosses it into the trash, folding his arms against the bar.

“You’re lucky I like you,” he playfully corrects. “Speaking of: your type, 7 o’clock. You’re welcome.”

Jack glances back and Casey pounces on the opportunity to disappear back down the other end of the bar. It’s more like 8 o’clock, not 7, but sure enough, CJ’s up from her seat and walking straight to the bar with a menu in hand. Jack silently curses and gulps down half her drink. There’s nowhere to run to unless she wants to walk right into the lion’s den and wait for the lion to get back, so she steels herself, elbow propped on the polished wood. She doesn’t know what kind of favor Casey thought he was doing her, but she mentally thanks him, shitty music ever-drumming in her ears as CJ closes the distance.

	If I was one of the good ones
	I don’t think you’d like me
	I’m one of the bad ones
	And that’s why you feel lucky

If they only fucking knew.

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█     #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
bad ones — matthew dear
p. johnson’s
interacting with: casey [npc]
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_{She flinches. Nobody else calls her Jackie. Nobody has called her Jackie since CJ, and Jack flinches because she isn’t expecting it. She isn’t expecting any of this. Her fingers twitch for a cigarette while she watches CJ disappear inside, left only with her final remark and the slowly-building chatter that pushes through the windows like a low hum. Sometimes, Jack would get the last word in, but it was mostly CJ. It’s always fucking CJ. Another cigarette so soon would practically be chainsmoking, and Jack isn’t really in need of a smoke, but she needs something to do. Something that isn’t being stuck in P.J’s all night with the worst reminder of high school the universe could throw at her, all while having nowhere else to go because her adult life isn’t faring much better. Jack paws at her phone again, fumbling to flip it the right way up and stare at the missed call notification again until it burns into her retinas. Jack: we can talk in the morning Fuck no. Erica would flay her alive if she sent that. Jack: at pj’s Nope. Jack: at pj’s. i can talk later No. Jack: i love you No, no, fucking no. Jack switches her phone all the way off and runs a frustrated hand through her hair. Is this how people usually feel? Constantly fucked over with a thousand things to deal with? Fuck this. If Jack’s gonna commit to this, she’s gonna commit. With one last look over at her bike to check everything’s secure, and a firm kick to CJ’s with the side of her foot, Jack tucks her hands in the pockets of her leather bomber and strides into P.J’s, warm air settling on her cheeks as she makes a direct line for the bar. Some shitty synth pop song plays over the speakers—clearly Casey’s not in charge of the playlist tonight she thinks, watching him walk down the bar to her while the other bartender on shift deals with what can only be the Ritman group. She tries peering through the thin crowd to see who else is attending, but one glimpse of bleach blonde has her staring back down at the bartop. “Shit, dude, did it go that badly?” Casey whispers as Jack’s attention remains fixed on the small gathering. Smoke guy from outside carries a drink and some food to the table, and that’s when Jack makes him—it’s Lucas fucking Watson. At least she won’t be the only one having a miserable time tonight. She tries to catch a look at the faces sitting at the table now there’s a clearer view, but misses her opportunity right as Lucas sits down. Jack focuses back on Casey, who’s giving her a look that says she just completely ignored everything he just said. “Yeah, kinda having a shitty night,” she supplies, trying so hard to look out the corner of her eye that it starts giving her a headache. “Okay, well, holy shit, Cyclops. I’ll get you a drink before your head explodes.” Casey placates, palms spread. He disappears in a blur of his black P.J’s uniform and pastel orange undercut, digging about at the other end of the bar. Jack can probably guess what he’s fixing her up. He returns post-haste, drink in one hand and card machine in the other. “Am I paying or drinking first?” Jack queries, pulling out her wallet. It’s one of those fancy metal ones that every annoying tech bro with a Bitcoin account has, where the cards slide up for use. She got an off brand one at a heavy discount, but she hasn’t lost a single card since she started using it, so she guesses it’s the kind of worthwhile investment you make as an adult. “You know customers don’t get to sample the product,” Casey remarks. “But since you kinda look like shit… it’s a shot of every rum we have, enough fruit juice to make your grandma shit herself, and a tipple of vodka.” He grins, waving the card machine in Jack’s face. She squints at the total displayed and winces, begrudgingly tapping her card on the screen. “You’re lucky I like you,” Jack sneers into her drink. Casey balls the receipt up and expertly tosses it into the trash, folding his arms against the bar. “You’re lucky I like you,” he playfully corrects. “Speaking of: your type, 7 o’clock. You’re welcome.” Jack glances back and Casey pounces on the opportunity to disappear back down the other end of the bar. It’s more like 8 o’clock, not 7, but sure enough, CJ’s up from her seat and walking straight to the bar with a menu in hand. Jack silently curses and gulps down half her drink. There’s nowhere to run to unless she wants to walk right into the lion’s den and wait for the lion to get back, so she steels herself, elbow propped on the polished wood. She doesn’t know what kind of favor Casey thought he was doing her, but she mentally thanks him, shitty music ever-drumming in her ears as CJ closes the distance. If I was one of the good ones I don’t think you’d like me I’m one of the bad ones And that’s why you feel lucky If they only fucking knew.} ^{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}	^{█ #1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO bad ones — matthew dear} ^{p. johnson’s interacting with: casey [npc]} _{▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔}

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