#☁️ ⠀ ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ THREAD .

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status : open location : idk an alley or something by the library she works at, a street, something

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ───────────  imani  was  usually  restless  but  especially  on  her  days  off.  typically  a  fan  of  the  silence,  she  didn’t  know  how  to  move  through  it  when  the  world  around  her  was  wide  awake.  it  was  only  when  they  were  sleeping  did  she  feel  safe.  it  was  the  kind  of  alone  that  wasn’t  so  lonely.  yet,  when  the  world  moved  around  her  and  she  stayed  stagnant,  the  loneliness  was  palpable.  growing  up,  her  bedroom  was  sometimes  shared  with  about  three  other  kids  lost  to  the  system  and  the  houses  were  far  from  quiet  throughout  the  day.  even  the  alone  time  she  did  find  wandering  the  streets  until  the  sun  went  down  was  accompanied  by  the  sound  of  traffic,  heels  on  concrete,  and  the  dings  of  bicycle  bells  as  they  sped  past  her.  living  on  her  own  brought  the  kind  of  solace  she  had  no  idea  what  to  do  with.  so  just  as  she  always  had,  she  took  to  the  streets;  searching  for  the  comfort  that  could  be  found  in  a  busy  neighborhood.  no  matter  how  her  surroundings  changed,  the  noise  stayed  the  same.

with  her  backpack  strapped  comfortably  to  her  back  she  found  herself  back  at  the  library  she  spent  most  of  her  time  in  anyway.  however,  she  didn’t  go  inside  this  time;  she  made  a  detour  through  the  alley  at  the  side  of  it  to  greet  the  furry  friends  who  had  come  to  anticipate  her  arrival.  “  i’m  late,  i’m  late  i  know.  sorry.  you  wouldn’t  believe  the  traffic.  ”  she  spoke  in  response  to  their  whines  while  they  rubbed  against  her  backpack  as  it  reached  the  floor.  the  body  walking  beside  her  didn’t  go  unnoticed  and  she  reached  a  hand  out  to  stop  them  before  they  could  get  any  further.  “  hold  on  there  speedy,  quick  question  since  you  clearly  like  them  fast…───  ”  there  was  a  pause  for  her  to  laugh  a  little  at  her  own  joke  and  she  pulled  out  two  canned  food  options  that  she  couldn’t  decide  on  just  yet.  “  do  you  think  these  guys  deserve  chicken  or  salmon  ?  maybe  dry  food  ?  a  mix  ?  i  have  a  bag  in  my  bag,  i’m  just…───  so  indecisive  y’know  ?  ”

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☁️ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ─────────────         imani   wasn't   all   too   pleasant   to   be   around   then.   her   usual   genial   smile   and   dulcet   tone   had   been   drowned   out   by   exhaustion   manifesting   itself   as   anger;   an   accumulation   of   every   bad   feeling   she   tried   to   ignore   finally   bubbling   its   way   to   the   surface.   it   was   an   uncontrollable   sort   of   rage   that   imani   didn't   know   how   to   handle.   her   way   of   self   regulating   her   emotions   was   to   keep   it   to   herself;   cry   when   she   needed   to,   deep   breaths   when   crying   wasn't   enough,   and   self   isolating   when   the   combination   of   the   two   hadn't   worked   either.   it's   not   that imani   thought   her   way   was   the   most   healthy,   but   it   was   the   only   way   she   knew.   growing   up,   there   was   never   anyone   there   to   hold   her   hand   and   tell   her   feelings   were   valid,   that   it   was   okay   she   felt   the   way   she   did   and   no   one   to   teach   her   how   to   move   past   it.   like   most   things,   she   taught   herself.   she   did   the   best   she   could   with   what   she   was   given,   and   in   her   adulthood   continued   to   try   to   do   her   best   to   make   a   difference.   though   she   never   said   it   out   loud,   imani   hoped   to   impact   even   just   one   life   the   way   she   wished   someone   would   have   impacted   hers.   it's   why   the   vandalization   hurt   so   much;   its   discovery   wouldn't   just   affect   her   but   the   people   she   was   trying   to   help.   it   broke   her   heart   to   think   of   the   look   on   their   faces,   or   any   hope   for   something   in   their   life   to   be   different   to   falter.   maybe   more   selfishly   it   broke   her   to   think   that   all   her   work   was   insignificant.   that   despite   her   best   efforts,   she   was   still   insignificant.

         the   shadow   that   lowered   itself   beside   her   was   unexpected.   the   harsh   scrubs   against   the   pavement   came   to   a   slow   stop,   and   imani   watched   akira   roll   up   his   sleeves   and   set   to   work   on   a   task   she   never   would've   asked   him   to   do.   as   his   suggestion   rung   out   guilt   was   added   to   the   searing   blend   of   emotion   and   her   features   softened   into   something   much   more   apologetic.   imani's   body   rose   up   to   rest   on   her   heels   once   more   as   his   words   rung   out;   her   head   already   shaking   no   before   he   could   complete   his   suggestion.   ❝   you   don't   have   to   do   that.   ❞   she   reminded   gently,   almost   fearful   of   what   his   reaction   would   be.   ❝   i   wasn't   trying   to   guilt   you   into   helping   or   anything,   this   isn't   your   fault.   ❞   another   reminder   she   should   probably   share   with   herself   but   instead   her   focus   remained   on   him.   ❝   why   would   you   want   to   help   me   ?   ❞   the   confusion   is   clear   in   her   tone.   it's   not   that   she   believed   akira   to   be   a   bad   person,   that   was   the   furthest   thing   from   the   truth.   she   thought   the   world   of   the   man,   envisioned   futures   for   the   two   of   them,   but   imani   was   just   another   face   in   a   sea   of   bodies   to   him.   not   even   a   side   character   in   the   story   of   his   life,   hardly   a   recurring   guest,   much   more   of   a   continuity   hire   set   in   place   to   make   sure   the   routine   wasn't   jarring.   it   also   didn't   help   that   she'd   just   bit   his   head   off   for   walking   on   the   sidewalk.   ❝   i   was   just   so   horrible   to   you,   i'm   sorry.   and   now   your   hands   are   all   dirty...──   ❞   voice   trailed   off   as   her   head   dipped   and   she   begun   searching   for   hand   sanitizer   to   help   get   his   hands   clean.   ❝   i   shouldn't   have   spoken   to   you   like   that,   i   don't   know   what's   wrong   with   me.   i'm   so   embarrassed.   ❞

*˖ ⊹     the  tense  expression  that  paints  akira’s  face  only  deepens  as  imani  turns  to  snap  at  him,  her  words  sharper  than  he’s  used  to  hearing.  truthfully,  he  watched  her  for  a  while  from  across  the  road,  trying  to  piece  together  what  exactly  she  was  doing  hunched  over  the  sidewalk  like  that  with  what  looked  like  a  yellow  kitchen  sponge  and  bucket.  unfortunately  the  reality  of  the  grisly  scene  became  increasingly  clear  as  he  approached,  and  so  did  the  fact  that  she  was  cleaning  the  stringy,  gooey,  orange  mess  that  litters  the  steps  on  her  own.  there’s  a  twinge  in  his  heart  that’s  small,  but  noticeable,  one  that  carries  his  feet  right  to  where  she’s  cleaning,  and  he  intends  to  catch  her  attention  before  he’s  standing  right  before  her,  but  he  doesn’t.  instead  the  small  movement  of  his  shoe  bumping  hers  seems  to  send  her  into  a  spiral,  and  while  he’s  used  to  imani’s  longwinded  sentences,  he  feels  like  this  time  it’s  different.  the  usual  airy  tone  of  curiosity  he’s  grown  to  know  her  for  has  been  decimated.  imani  is  upset  ──  no,  frustrated  ──  in  a  way  akira  hasn’t  seen  her  before.  he’s  both  speechless  and  concerned  as  her  request  for  him  to  turn  and  go  back  the  way  he  came  rolls  over  him,  and  it  takes  time  for  him  to  process  what  she’s  said  before  he  can  react.  

since  he  doesn’t  get  the  chance  to  say  something  before  she’s  turning  her  attention  back  to  the  steps,  he  settles  on  the  idea  that  his  best  course  of  action  is  to  not  speak  at  all.  with  slow  movements,  akira  lowers  his  bag  to  the  ground.  his  hands  make  quick  work  of  rolling  up  the  sleeves  of  his  shirt  ──  and  then,  without  saying  a  single  word,  he  drops  down  to  one  knee  beside  her.  he  doesn’t  look  at  her  as  he  starts  scooping  up  chunks  of  pumpkin  guts  into  his  hands,  grimacing  at  the  slimy  feeling  as  they  slip  through  his  fingers  but  reaching  to  discard  them  in  the  bushes  beside  them  anyway.  “  if  you  have  a  second  sponge,  “  when  he  finally  speaks  his  voice  is  soft,  delicate,  reassuring,  and  he  raises  his  gaze  to  study  her  for  a  brief  moment  before  it  returns  to  picking  the  sturdy  white  seeds  from  the  crime  scene,  “  i  can  start  at  the  top  and  we  can  meet  in  the  middle  ?  “

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status : open location : outside the library !

☁️ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ─────────────         it   wasn't   the   first   time   someone   had   defaced   the   decor   in   front   of   the   library;   imani   knew   it   wouldn't   be   the   last.   yet,   it   especially   hurt   her   feelings   in   the   fall   and   winter   months.   hosting   activities   like   pumpkin   carving   for   the   locals   was   as   close   as   she   was   able   to   get   in   partaking   in   an   activity   socially   reserved   for   families.   it   wasn't   something   that   was   funded   by   the   library   or   board   itself;   the   pumpkins,   tools,   candles,   and   refreshments   all   coming   out   of   her   own   pocket,   but   she   never   minded.   there   was   something   special   in   seeing   the   way   a   child's   eyes,   or   that   of   a   young   adult,   lit   up   when   they   got   the   chance   to   do   something   they   thought   they   never   would.   so   it's   not   the   money   lost   that   fills   her   with   sorrow   as   she   arrived   to   open   the   library   to   several   smashed   pumpkins   and   disgusting   graffiti,   it's   knowing   that   at   any   moment   someone   who   attended   could   show   up   and   see   their   hard   work   demolished   for   reasons   she'd   never   understand.          imani   didn't   give   herself   a   chance   to   feel   the   mix   of   emotions   coursing   through   her;   the   anger,   sadness,   confusion,   hopelessness   swirling   within   her   would   have   to   wait   to   find   a   home.   she   focused   solely   on   cleaning   the   mess   up   and   thinking   up   an   excuse   to   give   anyone   who   came   asking   where   the   pumpkins   had   gone   until   she   had   the   time   to   replace   them.   her   brow   was   damp   with   sweat   as   she   bent   over,   scrubbing   at   the   orange   still   smeared   on   the   steps   of   the   library.   at   least   it   looked   orange   to   her.   truthfully,   she'd   been   scrubbing   so   long   she   didn't   think   to   take   a   break.   it   only   took   one   small   nudge   against   her   foot   to   set   her   off.   ❝   oh   my   god   !   don't   you   see   me   working   here   ?   ❞   her   voice   grew   in   volume   as   she   finally   lifted   her   body   up   to   rest   on   her   heels.   "   don't   you   see   the   mess   out   here   ?   who   did   you   think   was   going   to   clean   it   up   ?   i   know   new   york   is   small,   but   it   isn't   that   small   you   could   have   easily   went   around   me...───   ❞   a   pause   and   a   deep   breath   later   she   shakes   her   head.   ❝   it's   not   even   worth   it,   just   please   go.   inside,   further   down   the   sidewalk,   back   where   you   came,   just   somewhere   other   than   here.   ❞   with   her   peace   said   she   hunched   back   over,   viciously   rubbing   at   a   spot   that   just   wouldn't   get   clean.

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status : closed / ( @apcthetics​​​ ) location : we outside the gala this time oooooohhhhhh

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ────────────  typically,  if  imani  found  herself  hiding  away  from  a  party  it  was  because  she  felt  out  of  place.  the  celebrations  she  attended  throughout  her  life  were  few  and  far  between;  a  good  intentioned  birthday  party  thrown  by  her  social  workers,  holiday  get  togethers  put  together  by  classmates  and  carried  out  during  homeroom,  pity  invites  to  classmates’  parties  she’d  only  know  for  a  semester  before  she  was  rehomed.  despite,  trying  to  have  a  good  time  there  was  no  one  there  she  could  look  to  when  she  felt  uncomfortable.  no  eyes  she  could  meet  from  across  the  room  and  encourage  to  make  a  quick  escape  for  a  minute  before  turning.  she  didn’t  have  a  set  of  friends  to  huddle  around  the  snack  table  with  and  discuss  who  they  thought  was  the  cutest.  there  was  no  body  secretly  pining  for  her  in  the  way  she  pined  for  him.  all  she  could  do  was  retreat  to  the  corners  of  the  room.  to  make  herself  as  invisible  as  she  felt,  and  listen  to  the  conversations  going  on  around  her.  using  her  time  locked  in  those  spaces  she  became  an  unknown  third  party  watching  everyone  interact  around  her.

this  time  was  different.  imani  hadn’t  slipped  away  from  the  festivity  because  she  felt  out  of  place,  it  was  because  she  never  wanted  the  night  to  end.  everything  felt  temporary  with  how  fast  paced  it  all  seemed  to  be  moving.  she  just  wanted  a  moment  to  remind  herself  that  it  wasn’t  so  fleeting.  a  moment  to  ground  herself  in  the  knowing  that  this  was  her  reality.  so  use  to  playing  by  herself  it  wasn’t  long  before  her  mind  related  her  surroundings  to  that  of  one  of  her  favorite  book  adaptations;  little  women.  with  one  check  to  ensure  there  was  no  one  around  she  set  in  motion.  the  dance  jo  and  laurie  had  shared  was  muscle  memory.  she  moved  as  if  she  truly  did  have  a  partner,  every  light  step,  each  muscle  spasm;  her  laughter  filled  the  air  until  the  sound  of  someone  approaching  tore  her  out  of  it.  her  movements  stopped  abruptly,  and  she  faced  them  with  red  cheeks  and  a  chest  that  rose  and  fell  with  the  cardio  she’d  just  done.  “  oh  !  hi  !  i’m  mortified  !  ”  she  greeted  with  a  nervous  laugh  as  she  smoothed  out  the  front  of  her  dress.  her  eyes  unable  to  meet  akira’s  gaze  for  more  than  a  few  seconds  before  she  had  to  look  away  again.  “  don’t  suppose  there’s  anyway  you  could  act  like  you  saw  absolutely  none  of  that  is  there  ?  ───  how  much  of  it  did  you  see  exactly  ?  ”

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status : closed / ( @foxtcils​​ ) location : the library imani be working out !

☁️  ⠀    ⠀  ⠀    ⠀  ────────────    as  the  temperature  dipped  so  did  the  amount  of  bodies  that  filtered  in  and  out  of  the  library’s  front  doors.  the  consistent  snowfall  made  the  trek  to  the  building  a  harsher  one  to  make,  and  with  school  being  let  out  for  the  holiday  break,  staying  inside  where  it  was  warm  and  comfortable  was  much  more  appealing  than  any  festive  activity  she  could  come  up  with.  normally,  this  time  of  year  made  her  feel  lonely.  she’d  sit  at  her  desk  looking  out  into  the  empty  aisles  and  create  vivid  stories  of  the  kids  who  use  to  the  fill  them  and  how  they  were  spending  their  holidays  with  a  house  full  of  family.  happy  as  she  was  for  the  kids  and  her  imagined  full  tables,  sparkly  presents,  and  loud  laughter  as  snow  angels  were  made  with  friends,  there  was  always  be  a  tinge  of  envy  there;  a  longing  for  that  type  of  a  belonging  never  dulled  within  her,  it  just  pounded  longer  during  the  holidays.  this  season  she  was  grateful  to  have  a  distraction  in  a  loose  fitted  cardigan  and  a  smile  that  always  reached  his  eyes.

the  vacancy  within  schools  that  resulted  from  holiday  breaks  also  meant  akira’s  library  visits  becoming  more  frequent.  every  time  the  library  doors  would  slide  open,  he  head  would  snap  in  its  direction  as  if  it  was  her  personal  pavlov  dog  experiment.  the  pleasant  smile  she  were  for  all  guests  only  growing  into  a  delighted  one  whenever  he  came  through  the  door.  approaching  him  became  easier,  but  it  didn’t  meant  finding  the  right  words  to  say  did.  the  confidence  she  had  built  up  from  previous  conversations  dissipated  the  second  she  locked  eyes  with  him.  since  the  snowstorm  had  knocked  the  power  out  she  was  hopeful  that  lack  of  lighting  would  help  with  that.  after  shifting  through  the  desk  drawers  of  her  and  her  coworkers,  she  came  from  behind  the  front  desk  with  five  candles  and  a  lighter.  “  this  feels  like  the  set  up  to  the  emotional  midpoint  in  an  apocalyptic  story...───  ”  she  started,  careful  to  set  the  candles  around  the  books  as  to  not  disturb  his  set  up.  “  y’know  where  the  heroes  lick  their  wounds,  and  unveil  dark  histories  and  lost loved  ones  they’ve  lost  because  of  whatever  clever  name  they’ve  given  their  monsters.  ”  she  let  out  a  quiet  laugh  as  she  lit  the  candles  one  by  one.  “  that...───  probably  didn’t  make  much  sense  but  um...───  there’s  a  little  light  now  !  i  also  have  blankets  back  there  if  you  get  cold  or  anything,  and  snacks  too.  just  let  me  know ! ”

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status : closed / ( @foxtcils​​ ) location : we have not moved <3

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ─────────────  imani tried to formulate a natural crossing of paths the moment she realized akira was at the party too. she thought it would be easy to casually bump into him while getting another drink, or confidently say hello as she just so happened to pass by him as if she was noticing his presence for the first time. as a journalist, one would think strategizing was her strong suit but it of course fell flat when her only strategy she had was going unnoticed; sitting silently in diner booths, or at bus stops to eavesdrop. she was only so good at what she does because she was good at being unremarkable enough to go unnoticed, but she wanted akira to notice. when she recognized him that nagging thought of whether he had recognized her too attached itself to her heart and hadn’t let go. the grip it had was like a needle piercing into sensitive skin when it became clear that he didn’t.

she almost talked herself out of approaching him; her feet bringing her two steps closer before she turned around and would walk the same two steps in the opposite direction. in the end she left it down to flipping a coin and uttering a soft “ oh my ” to herself when it decided she would speak to him after all. not wanting to disobey divine intervention ( or so she convinced herself ), she ended up making the walk to his side, her finger coming up to give his shoulder a quick tap before she could psych herself out of it and spoke before she could give him a chance to. “ i love your costume ! ” it was the first thing she could think of, and felt like a well enough conversation starter. so naturally, she ruined it. “ milo thatch was one of my first childhood costumes, and, what i consider to be, the best disney prince out there. it definitely suits you. ” she decided with a nod before realizing the implication of her words. “ because of the researcher, explorer part ! y’know, excited for to discover something new, connoisseur of oddities, not the uh...─── other stuff. not that you’re not prince like or could have prince qualities, what do i know ? really ? ” a gulp and a quick aversion of her eyes later she was ready to change the topic. “ are you having fun ? ”

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☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ──────────── imani tag dump !

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ANSWERED  . ☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ THREAD  . ☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ MUSING  . ☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ VANITY  . ☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN⠀ ﹕ ⠀ INTROSPECTION  . ☁️ ⠀  ⠀ IMANI BROWN ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ TEXT  .

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status : open ( im annoying i know and i apologize ) location : we still out here

☁️ ⠀  ⠀ ⠀  ⠀ ─────────────  it’s not that imani hated parties, she just wasn’t good at them. as the professional people watcher they grew to be, she enjoyed being alone in a crowded setting with a pen in one hand and a journal in the other, crafting stories on who she thought these people could be and where they came from, how they ended here. which was why she wasn’t good at parties, there wasn’t really any room for jotting down notes on their surroundings without looking like a weirdo. no, she was expected to participate. as people fluttered in and out of her surroundings she caught glimpses of conversations; drama that happened in the last few days, or even the last few hours, a deep dive into who was hot and who was not, and anecdotes that were as exciting as the way the storyteller recounted it. imani didn’t have any of that. her life consisted of her library, and her apartment; even the thrills that came with being a journalist weren’t all that thrilling because she did it from the comfort of anonymity so it wasn’t like she could share it. without any of that to serve as a crutch she relied on the one thing google taught her were great conversation starters: fun facts.

“ you know forests actually serve as an origin for some of the greatest legends...─── the elfin forest in california, know for its goblin sightings, highgate cemetery in london where dracula is based, the island of dolls in mexico, even yosemite national park has its fair share of native tales attached to it. it’s theorized that because of the ‘ no one can prove you’re right, but they can’t prove you’re wrong either ’ idea behind a forest it’s easier to attach these ghost or horror stories to them because what are forests if not big areas with big trees obstructing your view, and skewing your sense of direction. no one is ever in the same spot twice and no one takes the exact same route to said place, so the tales really write themselves. ” the excitement in sharing the thoughts she’d stumbled upon was clearly dwindling as she remembered where they were standing. “ though i suppose that’s not really something you wanna hear in the middle of night while in a forest, huh ? ”