#( pls do not feel the need to match length )

[hiddcnhorizcns]

open to: ladieees connection: y/m (perhaps an english noblewoman, promised to a british officer, but despises the crown’s rule and has tried to escape, or utp) is cornered against the moss-covered wall of an abandoned cottage by a british officer, adorned in the red coat of the crown. kieran has been travelling the country with some warriors from his clan to further secure alliances and stumbles upon this scene. kieran & the british officer have history together, and kieran steps in, invoking what little influence he has left as a clan leader and highlander to save y/m. muse: kieran fraser ; 25+ yrs old ; clan leader ; bio

The mist clung to the Highland moors like a shroud, dampening the sounds of the land and casting the world in a muted haze of grey and green. The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and heather, a stark contrast to the cold steel glinting in the hand of the British officer standing before the woman. Kieran Fraser pulled his stallion to a sharp halt, his keen gaze taking in the scene before him. The woman—English by the cut of her dress, but with a fire in her eyes that spoke of defiance—was backed against the moss-laden stones of the abandoned cottage, her breath coming in shallow pants. The officer, clad in the hated red of the Crown, had drawn his sword, his stance radiating the arrogance of one who believed himself untouchable. A slow, knowing smirk curved Kieran’s lips as he swung down from his horse, boots landing solidly on the damp ground. "Well now, Lieutenant Harrington," he drawled, voice rich with the lilt of the Highlands. "It seems ye’ve a talent for cornering those who cannae fight back. Tell me, do ye find it sport, harassing a lone woman on Highland soil?" The officer’s face twisted into a scowl at the sound of Kieran’s voice. "Fraser," he spat, shifting slightly, though his sword did not lower. "I should have known I’d find you slinking about in the shadows, clinging to the scraps of your once-great clan." Kieran merely laughed, the sound as sharp as the Highland wind. "Och, ye wound me, truly. And here I thought our last meeting ended on… cordial terms." His eyes flickered toward the woman, his expression softening only slightly. "But let’s speak plainly. I’ll be takin’ the lass with me." Harrington’s grip on his sword tightened. "She belongs to the Crown." His eyes glinted with triumph. "She is betrothed to an officer in His Majesty’s army, and she—"

"She," Kieran interrupted smoothly, stepping closer, "looks as though she’d rather take her chances with the wolves than return to yer fine gentlemen of the Crown." His hand dropped to the hilt of his own sword, though he did not yet draw it. "Now, ye ken me well enough to know I dinnae walk away from a fight. But I’ll give ye this one chance, Harrington. Leave, and I won’t spill yer blood on these hills." Finally, Harrington scoffed and took a step back, though his eyes burned with resentment. "You overstep, Fraser," he bit out. "And one day, your insolence will be your undoing." Kieran grinned, entirely unbothered. "Aye, mayhap. But that day is not today." Harrington hesitated a moment longer before spitting onto the ground at Kieran’s feet and turning on his heel, striding back toward his waiting horse. Only when the officer had disappeared beyond the mist did Kieran exhale, rolling his shoulders before turning his gaze on the woman. "Well then, lass," he said, tilting his head. "Care to tell me what a fine lady is doin’ so far from her fine comforts, with naught but a bastard in red for company?"

[maelliflucus]

open to : @promisedhexvens , for miss beatrice bennett ! where : the baron's cup.

the  afternoon  unfolded  like  a  sigh  held  too  long.  all  golden  hush.  polished  glances  beneath  parasols  ,  trembling  in  the  breeze.  somewhere,  not  far  from  where  she  stood ,  hooves  struck  rhythm  against  the  earth.  the  race  hadn’t  started  ,  but  their  heavy  stomps  still  echoed  in  her  chest.

isadora  hadn’t  meant  to  drift  so  far  from  the  others.  thoughts  scattered  after  the  morning’s  —gods,  what  was  she  even  to  call  such  a  thing?—  encounter  with  arden.  though  less  than  a  simple  conversation  ,  his  voice  still  clung  to  the  edges  of  her  memory.  low.  warm.  too  near.  it  had  been  nothing.  and  yet  ..  his  gaze  had  held  hers  as  though  it  knew  something  she  had  never  said  aloud.

her  lips  pressed  together  ,  eager  to  lift  her  glass  of  lemonade  ,  if  only  for  the  distraction.  how  childish  she  felt.  the  sour  citrus  couldn’t  touch  the  ache  beginning  to  thread  beneath  her  collarbone.

a  voice  floated  nearby—  pleasant  ,  practiced  ,    sounding  like  someone  she  was  supposed  to  remember.  she  turned  ,  a  reply  forming  on  instinct  ...  but  her  fingers  betrayed  her.  the  glass  tipped.  a  spill  landing  in  a  pale  splash  against  the  dress  of  the  woman  beside  her.  the  color  darkened  like  a  bruise  blooming  across  silk.  “oh—”  it  was  barely  a  sound.  more  the  shape  of  regret  echoing  from  the  hollow  of  her  throat.  “i  am  a  fool.  i  was  not  watching.  i  was …”  she  hesitated  ,  then  offered ,  “please—  allow  me  to  pay  to  have  it  replaced.  or…  to  have  it  cleaned.”

[demboiz]

open starter for w / nb ( babysitter, kid's tutor, maid, personal assistant, etc ) plot loosely based around this starring harvey donovan, 38 - 42, retired bank robber turned investment tycoon

how could she. perfectly dimpled tie is all but torn from under neatly folded collar, soaring across the study as it leaves his clenched fist. how dare she. after everything he had done for them, for their family. the high stakes harvey had recklessly taken, the calculated advances, the blood staining his hands; he'd done what any half sane man would have to provide. now that he was trying to play the part of country club wasp, trying to bury their tainted past, his wife had all but tossed him aside. instead, she actively pursued the gardener, the personal tennis coach she begged to have, even the fucking yoga instructor that suddenly had her yammering on like some spiritual freak. to top it all off with the ripest cherry, on the night of their anniversary, she was too interested in her new housewives of whatever the fuck friends to spend the evening with him. with a glass of whiskey in hand, harvey settles in the leatherbound antique office chair with a heavy sigh, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to ground himself from the raging fury bubbling beneath the surface. it's only when ears perk at a noise at the door that dark gaze lifts to fix on them and, almost immediately, the unbearable fire coursing through his veins comes to a halt, rugged demeanor softening. "called it a night kinda early," a tight smile is offered, fading just as quickly as he takes a swig from his glass. "you're free to leave. sorry for wasting your night."

[ungraceds]

it's   hard   to   be   around   him   ..   to   see   him   everywhere   and   it   shouldn't   be   .   it's   been   years   .   their   story   was   dead   and   gone   ,   the   book   now   collecting   dust   on   a   shelf   but   that   doesn't   mean   it   doesn't   hurt   to   reread   it   .   to   dabble   in   all   the   what   if's   ,   all   the   possibilities   if   she   hadn't   ended   things   so   abruptly   .   but   she   can   play   nice   ..   cordial   even   ,   and   say   all   the   right   things   exes   say to   each   other   .   whatever   they   may   be   .   can't   help   but   notice   when   he's   drawing   nearer   ,   heart   betraying   her   and   picking   up   pace   .   "   fine   ,   huh   ?"   brow   lifts   ,   stare   turning   scrutinizing   as   she   watches   him   .   "   seems   like   an   empty   adjective   to   describe   your   life   .   "   of   course   she's   heard   all   the   rumors   --   knew   of   his   relationship   drama   ,   the   fights   ,   all   of   it   .   it   still   leaves   a   sour   taste   in   her   mouth   that   while   she   tried   to   move   on   after   him   ,   she   failed   but   he   didn't   .   even   if   him   and   liz   aren't   on   good   terms   exactly   ,   he   still   loves   her   .   loves   her   in   a   way   that   she   loved   him   once   ,   too   .   pushes   thoughts   aside   and   offers   a   smile   ,   lips   wrapping   around   straw   to   wash   away   the   taste   on   her   tongue   .   "   so   i've   heard   ..   those   fists   of   yours   are   the   talk   of   the   town   .   but   i   still   think   you   were   good   back   in   high   school   ,   i   remember   you   knocking   a   few   lights   out   in   the   gymnasium   .   "   tone   is   teasing   ,   friendly   as   she   leans   against   the   rail   ,   too   ,   staring   up   at   him   .   "   college   was   long   ,   hard   .   had   to   start   working   at   a   club   to   pay   off   my   tuition   ,   "   strategically   leaves   out   the   type   of   club   ,   clearing   her   throat   as   she   shifts   from   one   foot   to   the   other   ,   "   but   it   paid   off   ,   i   guess   .   i   ..   don't   really   have   much   going   on   ,   honestly   .   working   ,   going   on   dates   ,   existing   ...   "   shrugs   ,   "   probably   no   different   than   the   girl   you   knew   back   then   .   "   back   before   shit   hit   the   fan   .

hues  glued  to  her  refrained  him  from  recognizing  silver  bracelet  ,  can’t  bring  himself  to  look  away  from  talia  even  as  he  stands  .  “  yeah  ,  no  worries  .  ”  the  corners  of  his  mouth  twitch  upwards  ,  offers  femme  a  small  grin  ,  even  as  digits  linger  a  second  or  two  longer  than  they  should’ve  .  mitch  pulls  his  hand  back  ,  his  seemingly  calm  demeanor  serving  as  a  contrast  to  what  went  on  in  his  head  ,  a  storm  of  thoughts  as  he  attempts  to  find  the  right  thing  to  say  ,  anything  that  would  give  him  the  excuse  to  s  t  a  y  a  little  longer  .  anything  to  talk  to  her  .  but  she  beats  him  to  just  that  ,  shifts  closer  as  he  ponders  on  the  answer  to  give  her  ,  his  elbow  now  perched  on  the  small  bar  .  “  things  are  fine  ,  ”  says  with  a  nod  .  it’s  a  lie  however  ,  doesn’t  want  to  bring  up  liz  ,  or  bore  her  with  the  drama  that  had  quite  literally  taken  over  his  life  .  he  wonders  if  she’d  heard  of  it  all  too  ,  the  relationship  ,  the  drama  with  gaia  ,  or  how  he’d  quite  literally  gotten  into  not  one  but  two  fights  with  legend  .  part  of  him  assumes  that  she  had  ,  but  he’d  rather  avoid  talking  about  it  all  with  talia  .  “  i  still  fight  ,  i’m  .  .  .  quite  good  at  it  now  actually  ,  nothing  like  how  i  was  back  in  high  school  .  ”  and  perhaps  he  means  it  in  more  ways  than  one  ,  sometimes  he  doesn’t  really  recognize  himself  .  “  and  you  ?  ”  he’s  curious  ,  wants  to  know  .  “  how  was  college  ?  how’s  everything  ?  ”

[thedevilsbckbone]

Open To: m/f/nb (30+)

Muse: Tigerlily Jones - 33 - burlesque dancer - bio here

Description: based on the 1st suggestion for this plot

it had been the first weekend in what felt like ages that Tigerlily had a night off from the club and she wanted nothing more than to go out and have a drink, maybe dance a little and just have a good time. She was rarely given days where she could mingle with people over drinks while in actual clothing, not one of her stage outfits or lingerie. So she got herself all dolled up in her finest and made her way to one of the new bars in town that had recently opened.

After making it to the bar and waiting her turn for one of the bartenders to become available ,Tilly couldn't help but overhear a conversation going on not too far from her on the other side of the bar that sounded a bit messy. She glanced over her shoulder to watch an individual with their back to her being bombarded by a slew of insults from a woman who was hanging all over a man standing beside her. Something about the way the woman spoke to the other irked the blonde tremendously. Or maybe it was the way that the person, who she realized was the other's ex, didn't even seem to be able to really defend themselves. She'd always hated bullies and being the type of person she was, she couldn't enjoy the rest of her evening if she just stood idly and let it continue to happen.

So once she got her drink, Tilly decided to walk up to the group, standing beside the person who had been taking the lashings. "Hey darling — sorry I took so long. I got stuck behind a group of sorority girls all ordering espresso martinis. It took forever to finally get my drink." She said with a smile, giving them a look to play along. "What's going on here?" She asked, glancing between the three.

[lt-banks]

Closed starter for @callsign-krysha

Rotary blades hummed above the helicopter as Holly jumped in, immediately slumping in one of the seats to catch her breath, to slow the thrum of adrenaline that coursed her body still. The mission has been intense, but overall a massive success thanks to the efforts of the team.

Her eyes opened as she noticed someone take a seat beside her - Krysha. She didn’t know then too well, admittedly. He was... quiet compared to the loudmouth she was. But she made it her own personal mission to crack everyone. Made for better camaraderie she figured.

She opened her mouth to share some praise over his movements during the mission, but disaster struck and stole the breath from her lungs as the helicopter jerked. She stumbled to the floor of the chopper with a loud thud and cursed as she lifted her head, spying the enemy fire. Shit. Extraction was gonna be difficult after all.

Another wobble of the chopper and she got knocked around the floor to the point her leg was hanging off of the helicopter. All it took was one. More. Jolt… and she went down, her body hitting bushy cedar tree branches before freezing cold snow.

Her eyes fluttered a moment, dizzy and disorientated as she managed to make out the sound of another soldier falling amongst the trees.

"Fuck.." She murmured, as her body sent her into a rest state amongst the snow.

[elijahfalvey]

— LOCATION: The Labyrinth.

— CHARACTERS: Elijah & Dee ( @deexkaplan ).

Elijah could always tell when Leon was particularly bored, even when the grumpy barman who he’d consider one of his closest friends wasn’t around to torment him with his thoughts in person; his phone vibrated in his pocket so many damn times he felt nothing but compelled to answer, or at the very least check to make sure that it wasn’t something actually important. There were plenty of scenarios where glancing down at the device proved to be incredibly inconvenient, like when he was busy — which, not for nothing Leon, he quite often was — or like right now, when he was tucked away in a booth at the Labyrinth across from Dee, mindlessly chatting and sharing a few drinks. He’d agreed to come out with her in order to actually spend time with her, not to be distracted by the incessant buzzing of his phone. However, the frequency of notifications was becoming harder and harder to ignore by the minute. Regretfully interrupting her, he pulled the damn thing out from his clothes and said, “Sorry, Dee. Sorry, one second. Someone keeps fucking . . .” His tone teetered on light frustration as the brightness of the screen illuminated against his face in the dim lighting of the bar, and there it was: several new messages from ‘Leon Woz do not answer 💔’ staring back at him. He huffed out a breath and decidedly put off answering any of them, setting his phone to the side on the table they shared face-up. “It’s not important. Sorry — I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

His eyes found their way to Dee’s as the screen turned on again, and low and behold, ‘Leon Woz do not answer 💔’ was calling him. The impatient bastard.

[g1bsongirl]

𖤐⋆.˚�� STATUS  ... open .ᐟ 𖤐⋆.˚  LOCATION  ... anywhere outside baybee .ᐟ

what was the saying — music on, world off ? certainly applied to iris. the girl was in a trance, fully encompassed by the ‘smooth’ sounds of 100 gecs frying her eardrums. one notch up and crimson would’ve no doubt dripped from her ears. a grimace contoured her features as soon as her playlist shuffled. who the hell snuck ‘sail’ by awolnation into her rotation ? before she could even hit next, the wheels of her rollerskates swept up from beneath her. blunt force caused her body to stumble back. looked like something out of a cartoon, had it been, a giant text would’ve appeared in a decorative bubble … ‘ boing ! ’ headphones lay beside her, the obnoxious beat blaring. perhaps the song was a warning sign ? should’ve listened. instead, she accepted defeat, laid there and took a gander at the sky. “ s’nice day — huh ? ” head tilted as she squinted, trying to catch a better glimpse without mutilating her pupils. “ is it just me or does that cloud look like billy the puppet ? ” wasn’t her first time falling and it certainly wouldn’t be her last. “ y’think you could spare me a hand ? ” she extended an arm out, fingers splayed, and offered a lax grin.

[thetorturedmusesdept]

@youllalwaysbemyporcelain Marie & Miguel

The crowd was still cheering as Marie and Miguel exited stage left, having just performed their duet Baby It's Cold Outside together at the Winter Market. Immediately, Marie got helped into her big fluffy, furry white coat by a member of the tech crew, who she thanked. Her heart was still thumping, racing hard in her chest from the adrenaline that always came with performing. Such a rush Marie always felt, every single time, and it only grew when the crowd cheered. She loved performing, truly loved it, and performing at Christmas time just felt even more magical.

She was grinning from ear to ear when she took Miguel's arm in her hands and leaned on his shoulder, walking with him to the dressing rooms. She giggled, sighing dreamily. "That was so fun, I can't wait to do it again. We absolutely should perform together more often. Our voices compliment each other, non?"

Luckily, the dressing rooms weren't far. As they walked closer to her door, Marie continued to gush about everything. "You are a natural on the stage, Miguel. This is so great, wasn't that amazing?" Again she asked a question without letting him answer before continuing on, now at her dressing room door. "You sounded so good, I cannot thank you enough for performing with me, monsieur." She turned to open her door and walked inside, turning back around to face him. She had her mouth opened to speak, but that was when she saw it.

The mistletoe hung just above her dressing room door... right above and in between Marie and Miguel. She had hung it there as an excuse to show affection through cheek kisses with those she liked or was close with, and more than that, she had a very romanticized fantasy of experiencing a real mistletoe kiss one day. Now.... it hung between her and her friend.... Miguel. Her eyes traveled from it to him, slowly, and she felt heat in her face as she blushed out of embarrassment. Did she just cheek kiss him like she normally would any other friend? Would that be awkward? They had gotten close in the short time they'd known each other, but would he feel awkward about sharing a kiss, even if just on the cheek? Would he want a real kiss?

Would she? "Sacre bleu... Of course, I uh-um, I forgot I put that there." She laughed a bit awkwardly, and casually shed her coat and tossed it aside as she tried to think of whether or not to go for a kiss - and what sort of kiss to make it. She tried to read Miguel, tried to feel for what he wanted. "Mistletoe... I mean, you know what they say, right...?"

[angelbenningflint]

who: open starter ( @eventidestarters ) where: district 13

The first weeks after the arrival of the folks from 8 and 12 had been hard. Most of them had lost everything. And Ángel who took pride in being able to cheer people up, was unable to do so. Not only because the loss they had suffered was so immense, but because he could barely get himself to leave his rooms. Their loss had reminded him of his own. His matching wound may have not been as fresh, may have protected itself with scar tissue, but it was there all the same. He found himself feeling much like the young boy he once was, trapped in a room for a much different reason. But eventually, after remembering all he had learned from the good doctor, he found himself able to face them, embarrassed at how long it took him to welcome the new members of 13 into the fold.

But as the weeks passed and that dark feeling seemed to no longer haunt the halls, Ángel began to love all the new life that had been injected right into the heart of 13. He could feel the fresh energy pumping through the veins of their concrete home. He loved talking to them, getting to know what it was like in the other districts, hear what their food tasted like, what traditions they held. He also loved showing them how they did things in 13. Their food might not be impressive, but their tech was, and as a tech supervisor, it was something else to watch them interact with it.

All that being said, for the most part, Ángel loved the new circumstances of 13. But, as someone who had lived alone for the past 7 years, suddenly having a roommate was...Something that made him want to stick a fork into an electrical socket.

"Oh for fucks sake," he cursed as he walked into the last hideout spot he had on his mental list, only to find it occupied. "Did everyone suddenly develop a rat like sense of being able to sniff out all the hidden nooks and crannies of this place?"

[wickedlvst]

closed for @hurtrite for this starter call // based on (x)

platinum hair shone brightly in warm candlelight, leaving the resemblance of a halo, as she took a few tentative steps towards the blonde giant of a man. with the eyes of both their clans upon her and her older brother’s gaze glaring daggers into her back to keep her moving, knowing all too well how she’d fought this alliance tooth and nail, it was impossible not to feel like the sacrificial lamb led to its slaughter. not that she couldn’t understand why her older brother had been pushing this marriage, all too determined to end the war that had already cost both of them their father in a brutal battle, leaving most of the men of their village incapacitated if not a mutilated corpse on a field drowning in blood. if it meant offering her up as a sacrificial offering to a merciless barbarian to avoid further bloodshed, not to mention the eradication of their people, he probably would have let them all fuck her one after the other right there on the battlefield. freya couldn’t even really blame him for this decision, instilled with an overwhelming sense of duty and loyalty for her people - even if she hadn’t been allowed to fight with them as so many other women of their village had. the jarl’s daughter was too precious a cargo to risk her getting hurt, too valuable of a bargaining ship. it hadn’t mattered to either her father or brother that she could fight as least half as well as some of their men, that she’d have rather faced the possibility of a brutal death out there with them as opposed to being left behind to imagine the worst, without being able to do anything to help.

but freya supposed it didn’t matter anymore. all she could do now was to hold her head high and make the best of an impossible situation. if it meant sleeping with a knife in her bed to keep her future husband from killing her in her sleep, so be it. only a fool would trust him to not try anything so cruel and she might be many things but a fool she was most certainly not, mind almost as cunning as that of the trickster god. she came to a stop only a few feet away from him, keeping her body with all her might from trembling at his intimidating presence. she was not going show any sign of weakness, refusing to act like the prey her family apparently considered her to be. forcing a smile onto her lips, she squared her shoulders, trying her best to make for her lack of height and overall fragility with a good posture. "i look forward to bringing our people together and setting an end to this war that's already cost too many lives", she opened the conversation, tone polite yet an attentive listener would easily notice the hint of an accusation behind them, obviously putting all of the blame for the bloodshed on him, "may the gods bless our connection."

[hcllishsins]

closed starter > ft. @veneror !! ( lucifer )

this version of hell was .. different . it felt more permanent than avernus . which , one could suppose it was . especially considering , you know , he died . his plan to take part in the rite of ascension failed , and instead , his bastard of a master managed to complete his ascension , sacrificing astarion in the process . the vampire wasn ' t entirely sure how long he ' d been in hell , since time passed different here . perhaps it had been a week ? maybe two ? at present , the elven vampire was crouched over his prey , his fangs sinking deep into the demon ' s flesh . as the rich , crimson blood flowed into his mouth , a rush of exhilaration washed over him , momentarily drowning out the screams of his victim . demonic blood tasted more bitter than that of someone who was alive . but .. even though he himself was dead , his hunger still remained , and it was even more ravenous than before . and so , he needed to feed . thankfully , even in the depths of hell , there was a twisted sense of satisfaction in the hunt . the scent of another flooded astarion ' s senses immediately , and he heard the slight footsteps that entered the mouth of the alley way . the hand that held the victim up immediately loosened and dropped the limp body . spinning on his heel , then came a harmonious giggle . a hand swiped over his mouth , clearing away any droplets of blood that may have stained his chin . " ah .. " he hummed , raising a both of his hands , palms facing the other . " it ' s not what it looks like .. well , actually .. it is EXACTLY what it looks like .. oops ? " then came another giggle , seemingly holding no remorse for almost killing the demon who now lay hunched on the ground .

[sterlingwhitvale]

who: @fatefought (ezra klair) where: d13 kitchens

It really wasn't fair for 5 year olds to have food allergies. They were young and stupid and unobservant. And his 5 year old had a tendency to passionately partake in conversation with whoever was at her table while eating, never paying attention to what she was shoving in her undiscerning mouth. And Sterling, had gotten lax. He was so used to himself, Cecelia, or their families preparing their meals and knowing of Satina's allergy, or being in the capitol where every meal was made to order and could be easily changed, that in all the changes of coming to 13, Sterling had forgotten to let someone know.

It was harder here, of course, all meals being prepared en masse for the large population, and he had no idea, really, on how to make it work. And he had stewed and stewed on it, almost to a ridiculous amount. Although, he had realized some hours in that thinking on something small, like a food allergy, was a great way to avoid thinking on the other, much larger, issues in his family's life at the moment. Notably, the increase every day of questions from his kids about their mother's whereabouts. He was running out of answers, and each day Jax looked at him more and more intensely. It was unnerving, his own eyes staring back at him in that way.

So he took his 30 minutes of 'reflection' time to make his way down to the kitchens, having finally figured out the best way to go about it would be on a small person to person sale, rather than a large one. --- He was surprised to see the man he had heard was practically the sole reason so many tributes had escaped the arena was present, working away in the kitchens, when Sterling had expected him to be elsewhere, in the training rooms, perhaps. "Ezra, right?" He knew better than to sneak up on someone who had been in the games, so he tried to make himself known as quickly as possible.

Sterling was not a loquacious man by nature, and having never spoken to the man before, it wasn't a tone he usually took with people he didn't know. But in a way, he felt as if he did know him. A man who joined the rebellion due to his love for a victor. It was his own story, as well. Perhaps the familiarity was undesired by the other party, but Sterling, having never needed any company other than his wife and his family, both the one he created and grew up in, found himself adrift as he had lost most of those and unsure if they'd ever be found. So, almost embarrassingly, he found himself reaching out.

"Blacksmith. Rebel. Cook. Anything not in your skill set?"

[outofthiisworld]

✦˖° @jfouler a chance encounter !!!

ᯓ💜˖° Mr. Fowler had a curious visitor today— an invisible one, that is. A ‘ghost’ followed the vice principal all throughout the halls of Sunset County High School as if she were nothing more than a lost puppy.

And what a strange place it was. The school's brick walls, so unlike the aluminum alloy and stainless steel aboard the space station, were full of children's chatter. She smiled. What a strange, but nice sound.

Not to mention how everyone here seemed to be controlled by some sort of bell! The grizzled man she followed (‘Mr. Fowler’ they called him) scolded a small group of kids that hadn't moved with the bell. She flinched ... but they just laughed, only to then scurry off at a word she never heard before.

It was at that very moment in which GHOST-713 did not want to know what detention was ( scary … )

The final bell rang and soon quiet replaced the chatter. Still invisible, she watched as Mr. Fowler typed away on a keyboard and occasionally ran a hand through his hair. Hey, Doc did that, too! He did a lot of things that Doc did, huh?

Maybe that's why GHOST-713 had forgotten herself as he tried to leave. How could she not? Mr. Fowler, though grumpy with a heavy frown, was far too nice. Just like Doc! So, she reached out, just like she did whenever Doc tried to leave— and grabbed Jamie’s arm.

[murphbronson]

who: closed for @carsonwest where: the Silver Saddle when: approx. 11:15 pm

"Well, fuck."

A honky tonk bar wasn't exactly his usual scene, but he'd heard on the radio that the place was running a two-for-one beer special on the same weekend that he happened to have some free time. In all honesty, he'd mostly wanted to get off the ranch for a few hours. Eating, sleeping, shitting and working all in the same place (no matter how large it was) was beginning to chafe. He'd known when he signed on that he'd have very little home-to-work life balance, but still. He needed a breather every now and then.

Apparently, his need for a temporary reprieve was about to be his own undoing.

In a fit of spiteful defiance, he'd wandered into the men's bathroom earlier to smoke a cig and scroll on his phone - because there was no way in hell he was going to walk all the way back outside in the cold just to take a few puffs. Wasn't his fault most of the places in this town had gone woke and banned smoking and vaping on the premises.

When he'd eventually left, he thought he'd stubbed out the filter good enough before tossing it into the trash, but apparently a few embers had still been smoldering - enough to catch and set the whole damn thing on fire.

Now, he was standing outside (shivering in the cold he had been trying to avoid) as the fire department rolled up, red and white lights flashing. The fire had already been put out, management had seen to that, but the building still had to be cleared before they could all go back inside.

As the crowd around him bitched and moaned about their abandoned drinks and lack of adequate outerwear, Murph sighed and mustered up what little dignity he had before breaking away from the mass of people lingering in the parking lot and approaching the nearest firefighter.

"So uh. Just so ya' know, it wasn't that big of a deal. Just a cigarette butt torching a few paper towels in the john." He shrugged. "S'already out."

[thedevilsbckbone]

Open To:  m/f/nb (30+)

Muse: Asakura Midori - 32 - Criminal Defense Attorney

Description: Midori and y/m grew up together, even developing feelings as they got older but before things could blossom into something more, she was shipped off to boarding school in another country by her father, the head of an international organized crime syndicate, in an attempt to keep her safe. She and y/m lost touch after that, as she distanced herself more and more from that lifestyle, until years later when an assassination attempt puts her father in the hospital and brings her home, she discover that not only is y/m now affiliated with her father's organization but is in talks to take over the business once he's gone.

Midori had agreed to meet them over dinner, needing to be caught up on what had happened to her father. It had been an obvious assassination attempt and while she knew discussing such matters was a direct conflict of interest to her job and reputation, at the end of the day he was still her father and she cared about him. She may have hated the monster he became, but he was still that man she'd looked up to when she was a young girl. Back when her eyes were still too innocent to see all his faults. She felt she owed him an obligation to be here if these were to possibly be his final days.

She had come to terms with this inevitable a long time ago. In truth she had expected it sooner. What she hadn't expect to find though, once she had come back , was that the very person looking to take over her father's blood soaked empire, was the very person she had considered one of her closest friends growing up. Back before she'd put as much distance between herself and this life. The very person sitting across from her now. It had been years since they'd seen one another, yet somehow Midori couldn't help but feel the deep sting of betrayal at the knowledge that they had thrown their bright future out the window just to suck up to her father. She'd always thought they were smart and were meant for greater things in life - but now she could see they were just like everyone else - motivated by money and power. And it hurt.

"You know it's funny - I remember specifically how you used to hate my father almost as much as I did." She said, mouth twitching into a sad smile at the memory of it as she continued to scan the menu in front of her. She recalled how much her father would talk down on their friendship back when they were in school, specifically about how close they were. "Now you talk about him like you look up to him." Her tone took on more of a scoff then, not bothering to hide her disdain. "When the hell did that all change?" She asked, lifting her gaze from the menu to meet theirs expectantly.