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Notes/changes in Riley.  With the final realization that Voight's wife is dead (sadly), there will be a softer edge to Riley's history, but I will fix those kinks out later.  Mainly I wanted to make a note that she holds both a desk job in the filing room at the CPD {at her father's precinct} as well as a part-time gig at Molly's, because the firemen there are good people who will keep a close watch on her...and it was also the place she was assaulted and where Jay saved her.   Mainly thinking aloud here, getting my thoughts out. You can ignore me or weigh in your two cents, and if you'd like to RP just let me know.  XOXO.

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                                 ↁo not ｐｒｏｖｏｋｅ me;

                    i will ＴＥＡＲ you αpαrт

                                    ——- & make you wish

                                            you were

                                          d̶̶e̶̶a̶̶d̶.

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Willa Holland

ContentMode #12

Photographer - Jaesung Lee

Hair - Aviva Perea / Starworks Artists

Makeup - Adam Breuchaud / Starworks Artists

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She furrowed her brow, placing the pills upon the table as rapidly as she could think to do. Swallowing hard, her hands clawed at her petite arms as she bit into her bottom lip. True, her entire body was shaking, and where it may have made her feel good for a moment in time, what would that have cost her? What had she done? How could she have been so stupid to have actually reached out to a dealer? Good one, try explaining that to your father if he were to ever find out.  There was a penance for wasting their {a dealer's} time. She knew from experience mainly because she had once been in similar shoes. You learned to prey on the weak, get your money and get the fuck out of there. Suddenly, Riley managed to look up in a bit of comprehension.  She took in a deep breath, pulling herself away from the wretched white objects that would be her demise. Slipping from the booth at the diner she stood to her feet and gawked about for a moment to be sure no one had seen her make a fool out of herself. 

          ------"But. You're not me." She finally stated. She was cognizant that this might not end so well, but better her health above anything else. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out a hundred. The cost of the given item could have potentially roamed up to three times that amount, but the dealer still held her product. Riley had managed not to consume them and thus believed the dealer deserved less than what they'd originally bargained.  "Here. For your trouble." She averted, nodding to the Benjamin as she sat him on the table. 

Bronwyn sat next to the strange woman and waited for her to make a decision. It was deals like this that made Bronwyn hate her ‘job.’ As time passed it became clearer that the woman hadn’t had pills in a while and that taking the pills could be a bad decision. Part of Bronwyn wanted to take the pills, put them back in her case, apologize and leave. Her moral side was desperate to tear through her indifferent defenses and give the customer a hug and tell her everything would be okay.

But ultimately, Bronwyn just wanted money. She plastered a smile on her face and looked into the tear filled eyes of the young woman. “It wont be so bad, you know.” She encouraged her with kind words. “You’ll feel so much better and hey, I wouldn’t mind the extra cash either.” She laughed lightly. “But seriously, I don’t want to push you but…think of how much better you’ll feel. You look like the kind of girl who knows how that is.” She shrugged. “If I were you, I’d take them.”

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Hey ya'all. I know I have some responses to get to over here and I am not neglecting I just got busier than I anticipated. I'll make it up to you. Don't worry. xoxo. But for now? I need to hit the hay. xxoo.

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Beep beep. Beep beep. Beep beep. BEEP BEEP! -- The alarm bellowed clear into Riley's mind-stream. She could hear it wrestling against her deep siesta, her dreams. Groaning, her hand reached out as she bashed it into the plastic radio hoping she'd managed to set the 'snooze' button. Suddenly she arose from her place upon the bed...someone else's bed. Her cerulean orbs darted about as she took in her surroundings, gasping for air. This was not her apartment. It was...cleaner...brighter...different.   Furrowing her brow, she cleared her throat and hummed as she softly remembered what had happened, or at least partially. The whole terrifying experience had sent her through a spiral of slight memory loss.  Jay had stopped an all out assault on her life...he had brought her here, to his home to look after her and he had tucked her in...and slept on the couch. Pushing the covers from off her body, she swiped his robe from off the back of his bathroom door and wrapped it around her tiny figure, securing it, before tip-toeing into the living room to check on him.  A soft grin kindled itself upon her lips before she sat at the edge, watching him for a moment.   "Hey, hero." She mused loud enough to wake him. "Want some breakfast? I know this excellent place, makes the best waffles." 

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Sighing and giving a gentle roll of her eyes, hoping it wouldn't have been seen, she hopped over the bar with very little effort on her petite end, and gathered a glass of seltzer water. She placed it in front of the woman, pursing her lips as she took in a deep breath, the bartender only eyeing her for a moment, she was known for making quirky judgments that weren't necessarily welcomed by her fellow staff...but of course Cass rarely, if ever, paid any mind to it.  "Would you like anything to eat maybe? Sometimes that helps, believe it or not." She offered. For once she was feeling a bit more on the kinder side of her brain.

Mara glared at the woman for a long moment before her stomach rolled over. She groaned, leaning forward and settling her forehead against the cool surface of the countertop. “I’d love to help you out— but your low tolerance levels really aren’t my concern right now.”

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"Okay....but can you maybe do it over there? I have a low tolerance for bodily fluids." Riley stated, raising her brows as she stood on the other side of the bar. It wasn't exactly the most ideal occupations to uphold, a waitress at a shady pub in town considering her past, but it was the best she could get for the time being, considering her none-too-pleasant history and all. 

"Think I’m going to be sick—"

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Palms rested, spread open wide as the white pain-killers gawked back up at her, tempting, persuading, creating a delicate balance between her sanity and reality. Licking her dry, seemingly chapped lips, she took in a deep breath. The tears pooled at the crevices of her bright jade orbs whilst her limbs began to shake in anticipation. She had been told she was stronger than this, much stronger than this...but in that moment her will power was fading immensely, as quickly as sand within an hourglass.  She peered relentlessly at the product she had kept tucked away for such an occasion. She knew relapsing was eminent, or so she had been coached by her peers, of course, those who knew nothing about what her therapist and sponsor had told her, the encouragement they'd attempted to build came caving down.  Come on Riley.  You're better than this. You don't need them... You don't... She attempted her best to regain what little composure she had left.  She just did not want to feel anything, not in that moment.  And what she did feel? She yearned to dissipate.  Help...

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"Look Tommy. I don't do that kind of thing anymore. You're going to have to find another go-to-girl alright, now scram before my dad sees ya." Riley demanded of the former "friend", if he could even be called that. But the moment he latched onto her arm, her eyes shot up, actually surprised by his movement. Never had she expected a rookie of his nature to do such a thing. "Oh. Tommy." she sighed, faking a bit of a damsel in distress-mode, pouting out her lower lip, before her knee was sent right between his legs, and she popped his wrist out of its socket with a rather resilient "POP".  Leering at the fellow she quickly turned about only to be faced by a a new individual.  "Oh come on!" She whined. "Look, I didn't do anything wrong he came at me...self defense. "She pleaded, not knowing if this was one of his Tommy's pals or someone else. "Clearly, either way, you don't want to mess with me." She warned, just in case.

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"I don't see it. But lucky for you I grew up in a household full of lawyers and the judicial system. There is this thing called a fair trial. State your hypothesis and case, provide some proof and the jury may rule in your favor."  Cass playfully retorted.

"Really really."

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She paused in her tracks for a moment, shooting him a look. If ever he had received the evil eye from her father, well, he certainly would sense the similarities in her fiery cerulean gaze. It was her way of warning him against trying anything in particular. Pursing her lips, she took in a deep breath through her nose, cleared her throat and continued on her way. "Yup." She answered.  "Shit hole in the wall type place, I guess you could say. But it is all mine." She happily stated, and it was true. Some of the money she had stashed away from her dealing days took care of the rent, and the honest job she had managed to acquire in the filing department at the CPD {no doubt so her father could keep a close eye on her} helped to secure her income, for now.  Cass, much like Voight, had never been one to stay in one place for too long. The only difference was, Hank had found his home, his "family" whilst she had honestly felt left behind, it was the sole reason of the great hindrance in their relationship.  "You think you'll be able to ID that guy?" She asked, referencing his little brush with his unlucky fate. 

"Even better, we’ve got to the part where you invite me to your house."

Ryan commented as a smirk played on his lips, starting to walk towards her place next to her. His car was back at the station and he didn’t feel like paying for a taxi, not that he had any money left, the idiot who pushed him on the ground managed to take them.

"You have a place?"

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As soon as the woman spoke up, Cass sighed, returning a none-too-pleased expression upon her. "Yeah. I guess." She bitterly stated through grit teeth. Truth be told, for the first time in a long, long time, Riley felt somewhat good about herself. She was right on track with the program, she was right on track with bettering her life for her mom, her brother, her father. She was right on track, and it felt nice. It was bitter moments such as this that created the uncertainty, the uneasiness.  "Maybe." She mused, raising her brows, her voice short, the same hot-temper as her dad. "I guess I'm just too witty, and too quick for them."  She shrugged, playing along for however much longer she needed to...until Renee began on the aspect of being able to take a hit whenever she wanted. She was not exactly sure how she was meant to take such a harsh sentiment. Swallowing hard, Cass gawked at the stranger before her. Her fingertips twisted and pulled into a tight fist before she released them. She contemplated on whether or not violence was a truly appropriate measure, but she knew she was better than that, not to mention she would have been put in a great deal of trouble had she decided to bop the twit in the face.  "Fun. Is that what you call it?"  She smirked, obviously mocking her at this point. "Well if that is all you have to look forward to, I can see how it would be classified as fun." She concluded, batting her lashes in a mere: 'I'm better than you'-type fashion.

It was then that Riley realized just how intelligent her sponsor had been, to set something like this up. She must have been full aware that she would have bumped into a patient there. At least, Riley had hoped that was her intent, because whilst she stood there before this perfect stranger, she had found herself wondering if she had been this...pathetic...She had enabled drugs to rule her life, take over, and at what cost? She no longer felt that desperation from her youth. She felt...free. For the first time in a long time she could honestly say it was alright to be clean, to be sober, especially while eyeing Renee curiously.  

{StraitJacket|Cass}

A snicker came from the brunette as she stood there watching the other woman, narrowing her eyes in her direction as if she was analyzing her every movement. How much longer they had left talking to each other was a mystery to the both of them as she could clearly see Cass try and peek over her own shoulder to see if her sponsor was around, shaking her head. “Let me guess. They’re trying to show you what could happen if you were to slip up with your recovery? How convenient for them.” Renee shook her head. It was funny, really. How others tried to scare people into not wanting to end up in a place like this. As the thoughts as to what the other woman could have possibly done in her past to earn a sponsor from it all, Renee couldn’t help but laugh at her next comment.

"Maybe you’re the one who belongs in the straitjacket around here then, being a crazy bitch and all." Renee moved over to the side of the room in order to lean against one of walls. "At least when I get out of here I can still have a life. You know, have fun using and everything. I can’t even imagine having my fun taking away from me like that.”

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Cass drew her lips together, pinching them against her teeth as she studied the woman before her. She attempted not to showcase too much of a judging manner, because, in reality, whom was she to place such judgement on any given person considering her shredded and less than pleasant past? She took that bit into consideration as she released her lips with a light pop and opted to cluck her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shrugging lightly. "Looks can be deceiving." She responded quite 'matter of fact'.  "I'm a crazy bitch." She retorted in a light teasing fashion, gawking over the woman's shoulder if only to see if she might catch a glimpse of her sponsor.  Usually when they expected her to show up at a location like this, she didn't second guess it. There was some hoopla having to do with the lesson of the day and Cass merely grew accustomed to it. 

{StraitJacket|Cass}

"I don’t see you being the one in the straitjacket around here." Renee shook her head, tilting her head to the side as she took in the features of the woman standing before her. "Sponsor? You don’t exactly look like you need a sponsor." She added with a snicker; pursing her lips. It was pretty amusing that her so called sponsor wanted to meet in a psychiatric hospital none the less.