#bronx.interactions
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Closed: Bronx ft @smckesprite Location: Sugar Lounge
"Let me tell you, sweetheart; if they targeted this place next I wouldn't even be surprised. Many of us work late and even leave with patrons sometimes". Bronx took a sip from his martini — a watered down one. Make up and performance outfit still on; corset and a flowy white shirt underneath were giving Regency debauchery, which a lot of people seemed to be into around here.
A hand extended to the other's face to fix hair over their face and push it back. "Now, that's better. Why would you be hiding such a pretty face like that, hm?" a little smile and another sip. "I don't think you're a regular. Is it your first time at the lounge or do you just keep to yourself?"
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"Silver, one of them is like this thick", he said while illustrating the size with his index and thumb, "it has a cross carved into it. The other one is thinner and is like a little chain and the third one is just plain silver, but also thin", Bronx explained while scratching his brain for details about his jewelry. He followed the others stare towards the lost and found bin; his head cocking slightly to the possibility of his things being in there while the other talked about with clear disgust about the hideous pile. "Right", Bronx agreed, teamwork is top notch, but... "it will also be faster like this", and he grabbed the bin to flip it over and empty its contents. Then, his eyes scanned the things now on the floor before diving in to search for his rings. "I got this, no worries, you don't want your book smelling like dirty feet and suspicious things, do you?", Bronx commented while shooting a brief look towards the clerk and then down to the book in his hands. "What's your name? I was startin' to think this place was run by ghosts or dust bunnies. Never seen someone before," but yet again, Bronx had ungodly timings to do things.
"rings? what did they look like?" his book was abandoned on top of the machine, keys jingling in his quick movement towards the little store cupboard reserved for employees. for the most part it was filled with detergent, bags of loose change, the occasional piece of misplaced underwear; if they had any hope of locating the lost jewelry, it was there. "i don't think these machines are strong enough to swallow anything like that without us noticing, so i think you're in good stead. the lost property is—" the boy visibly grimaced as he peeled an unwashed shirt from the top of the bin, "—it's horrible. but if we found them, they should be in here." his voice was sweet, pitchy, laced with a mancunian accent that seemed alien in the depths of alaska. jasper's nose twitched, a palpable displeasure, "it'll be light work if we do it together." @thvnderr
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SENT BY @b4rredteeth ( Pesor )…
an uncanny farmhouse with a ‘ ROOM FOR RENT ’ sign
“LISTEN—— I know you’re probs looking to upgrade your living conditions, but this is too creepy… even for me and I slept in the clown tent for two weeks when my apartment flooded”, Bronx commented while leaning to the side to almost whisper the words, afraid that someone or something might be listening.
To be honest, he didn’t even know if that was the reason they were visiting this place, but a joke here and there seemed better that to admit plain fright at the sight of what could potentially be a murder house. “Could’ve found ya a place at the apartments y’know?”, he continued with a little chuckle, but even against all voices in his head, he took a couple of steps forward.
“Well, let’s get going then, it’s never too early to get butchered to pieces by a crazy man with a pig head as mask. Let’s take a look around at least”.
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OPEN STARTER || @liminalstart
“Are you a local? I’ve been hearing a shit tons of stories about a haunted house near the abandoned mill. Is it true that a whole family was axed to death and whatnot?”
They tuned to the other while sipping from their drink. Bronx soon looked back to their phone while scrolling through some article about some haunted places in the area.
“Although according to this thing, all Centralia is haunted...”, they added. “Hey, I don’t have work today because I misbehaved the other night so I was temporally suspended——— anyway, do you wanna check it out? Looks either promising or mad bogus”
#liminalstart#bronx.interactions#could be the coffee shop or the bar or even a food court or something#even the park or whatever place works for you
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SENT BY @nxnbinarydracvla…
end of the road
It’d been weeks since Bronx and Cyrek had their heart-to-heart and left the topics rather unfinished thanks to Mother Nature aka the triplets that decided to explode in sudden agitation as if to break away any other kind of tension that had formed between the gangster and his ex boss. Still, they were in the old truck together yet again as if things were normal, as if things had not changed, as if they had not talked in weeks after the younger one decided to give up on the gang for the time being.
DEAD END.
The sign was bright red indicating that a cliff or loose rubble could cause problems if didn’t hit the brakes. He had been silent the whole way, not even daring to look to Cy because the oldest knew how to read him like a kindergarten book.
‘She’s not as good at bein’ alone like she makes out. And neither are you’. Bronx still remembered these words every day, specially after the first week or so away from the gang felt like release but soon enough he started to feel like drifting. There had been nothing to keep him in Anchorage aside of the strong friendships and jobs he had found, of course, but still, he couldn’t bring himself to leave, not even after googling bus tickets to the border or plane tickets to somewhere far away. He just could never complete the transaction. DEAD END. Ever felt like even the dumbest thing could bring you to tears? Dropping your pen, spilling a glass of water, tripping with the rug at the entrance: silly little things that tip the emotions just enough to trigger something. He felt like this at seeing the sign. But he held it back bravely and held a sigh back as well.
“Not like I doubt your genius or anything bo— Cy, but… you sure this is the correct road? If this is gonna be our new kissing place I don’t mind much but yeah, being in a vehicle kinda stuck gives me some Valentine’s Day blackout vibes, so if we could pick somewhere else to make out, that’d be peach”.
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Bronx was sitting at the steps of a random building, bleached locks combed between his fingers. He was holding a chocolate cigarette between his fingers because he had acquired certain disgust to tobacco recently for some reason — which was the possible reason of his anxiety peaking.
The voice of someone brought him back from a potential hurricane of terrible thoughts about pretty much anything and everything. Bronx looked up at the person and had to squint his eyes because this person's silhouette was right against the sun, which made them look both terrifying and divine. Hand on his forehead to get a better look, the boy tilted his head before responding. "You look like a god or something with the sun creating a halo around you and everything", he replied, "if I asked for permanent rest and peace would you be able to give that to me? Memory deletion works too; I'm just done with everything, honestly", he said before turning to rummage in his bag and he pulled out a bottle of rum. "Does God like to drink?"
THE SEARCH IS ON… to be helpful @anchoragestarters
Abhinav had not presented himself as one to help with the search - he did not count himself the best individual for such ventures and he didn't want to worry his kids. Not that they would be too surprised if he did throw his body at the problem, like he would, constantly, to their annoyance. Instead he was grumbly aware that he'd be needed later, when this was all over, he would end up with a whole lot more people in the chair opposite of himself. Which, despite that it was his job, filled him with dread.
They took a deep breath, walking along the main road between the art shack and the clinic, knowing he would probably find someone who needed to a pick-me-up, not that he could offer more than words, but even the thought of offering some words, was enough to quell their own feeling of being on the edge of something bad. It wasn't that odd for Anchorage to be losing people to disappearances, it happened more than they were comfortable with, but they'd seen plenty of new people arriving.
Walking up to the first person he saw with slightly slumped shoulders, he offered a genuine smile. "You alright there, bud?" Bud, not a word he would usually use, but people reacted well to offers of familiarity, even if they were strangers. "Any way I can help?"
#bronx.interactions#bronx: abhinav#death tw#alcohol tw#lmk if this doesnt make sense for whatever reason
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SENT BY @prismagpie…
the lot behind a somber hotel
“I’m starting to think…”, Bronx begun as he looked around the empty lot. There was nothing but thick darkness and the distant barking of dogs. The hotel rose imposing behind them as it casted its shadow over the field. The couple cars at the front indicated that the place was either still running formally or that some shady business was being discussed inside. “…that the invitation we received from those frat boys at the coffee shop had the wrong location on purpose”, he finished while zipping up his jacket. “So as I see it, we have three options: find the actual party, go find our own fun or get into that hotel and see if it’s like a ghost building or something, like those ghost ships and planes that show up every now and then to some people”, he expressed while balancing on his heels and toes in a forth and back motion. “Aren’t you cold by the way?”
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SENT BY @tea-rcses ( Mary Ethel )…
a police station on edge during a blizzard
There were three things that had Bronx chewing on his inner cheek anxiously as the cops rushed from side to side with grunts and stress plaguing their faces:
1. The cops themselves, of course. Bronx had had his plenty of runs with the law throughout his life and he was no stranger to the police station and even to most of the cops working there. “Hey, Steve!” “How’s the family, Mr. Shen?” “Did your daughter have that recital already, Karla?” Bronx had become familiar with most of the people there to the point where he would make ( or try to make ) friendly conversation to most with both positive and negative response. Still, there were the triple of bodies in the place for whatever reason and some of them were clearly not fond of the dancers stranded in there with them; which takes us to the second point…
2. Mary Ethel. Anchorage’s very own Mary Magdalene. They were pretty, too pretty, plastic pure, artistically driven ( which led many patrons into the club ) and also played at Cy’s band. Jesus, they were basically anything Bronx had ever wanted to be and more, although the sadness behind their eyes made him wonder if maybe he saw them with rose and green colored lenses sometimes. He could not hate her, not one bit, because she was also a victim of life, of the crudest decisions taken by generations before them. They’re painfully similar and yet, awfully different in their reactions. Bronx hugged himself tighter not knowing if he felt more threatened by their presence or a police station full of angry people.
3. The blizzard. The very reason of why they are trapped here in first place. Emergency services entered and left the building constantly as some people came in to report situations and crimes that had happened in the last minutes. Everything seemed way too important at this point to pay attention to a couple of sad souls at the corner that had been brought in by a cop for some unknown reason and had been long forgotten since; and yet, dirty looks were sent his way every time he stared at the exit for too long.
“Would rather be freezing my ass to death out there rather than spending any more time here”, he mumbled with crossed arms and a glare at the old secretary at the desk that kept looking their way over her spectacles with judging looks. “Oi, Virgin Mary”, he called for his companion, “should we try to reach the door once and for all and risk a possible arrest or wait here until someone actually tells us why we’re here?”.
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"Mhm", Bronx acknowledged her words about the truth. It was exactly that what had pushed him out of the gang and almost out of the city, but still, here he was tolerating a hellish cold and with an increasing rate of getting gutted out any instant. So many fingers had been pointed in the past months that he could believe almost anyone could be the author of said crimes. "But would you die for it?", Bronx added with his own brown eyes looking her way.
He looked back down. The remaining taste of tobacco pooling at his gums and under his tongue as he blew softy as if trying to discreetly exorcise the caught venom in his lungs out. No, really, he should stop smoking. "I can imagine. I'd be shitting bricks and ripping my hair out if that happened to me. It's good she has you". Oh, this was probably the guilt. That guilt he felt when he first started ripping off the posters of a missing Bronx back in Cali. Of being the putrid copy of a poor woman's child who had left the house after an argument. Bronx scanned Mary Ethel over again. She was a good daughter. "Lemme know if there's anythin' I can do aside of like looking for a hacker or something", he shrugged. Kind words rarely left his lips in this side of Anchorage, but he guessed his colleague needed some support anyways.
"Do I look more rotten than you?", the dancer scoffed in a teasing tone; "at least the aesthetic is playing though", Bronx added with a little smirk. "I dunno. I mean, I was kinda targeted twice in the New Year's event and then during Valentine's Day; but I guess that if I'm still alive, the killer either got bored of pissing on my day or i totally gave them a boner and I'm getting a pass", Bronx laughed this time and it was very much needed; he ended it with a shrug. "I don't know, I think only people at the trailer park got it", he said. "But it makes me curious of... why. This is startin' to feel very Wes Craven".
The dimly lit alley was a stark contrast to the vibrant energy that often radiated from the streets of Anchorage. The subtle hum of the city seemed distant, muffled by the looming shadows and the shared heaviness of the air. Mary Ethel leaned against the brick wall, a thin veil of smoke curling from her lips as she observed Bronx's actions, his cigarette's final moments becoming a metaphor for the tensions that lingered in the wake of recent events.
Bronx's subsequent comment drew her attention, and Mary's eyes held an enigmatic spark as she met his gaze. His words were tinged with a touch of cynicism, a perspective shaped by a reality that was all too real. She knew he wasn't wrong; the authorities might be preoccupied with more pressing matters. A small smile played on her lips, an acknowledgment of the shared sentiment. "Disconnecting might be an option, but you know as well as I do that sometimes we can't just turn away from wanting the truth, no matter how harsh it is," she replied, her voice carrying a hint of determination.
His shift in tone caught her off guard, a moment of sincerity peeking through the layers of their conversation. The inquiry about her mother was unexpected, and a sense of gratitude touched her gaze. "She's holding up, as best as anyone can in these circumstances," Mary answered, a mixture of emotions passing across her expression. "Thanks for asking. I just hate that she was in hysterics. It's not something I'm used to dealing with when it comes to her. Everything else seems mechanical, timed perfectly- but talking her out of a nightmare was," she takes a deep inhale of her cigarette, "Taxing." Tilting her head, she muses, "I'm surprised you didn't get one of those phone calls. You oughta have a couple of targets on your back. You're more rotten than me, aren't ya?"
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CLOSED: Bronx x Jo ( @jofms ) LOCATION: DULCE TIERRA WINERY & VINEYARD
“You are the lady of the fox and the dead plants, aren’t ya?”
Bronx spoke up before shoving snacks into his mouth. Dressed in his staff attire, the Bastard was ignoring the unspoken rule of leaving the food for the actual guests, but hey, he had been working his ass off the whole time; he sure deserved a taste, right? He looked at the woman up and down shamelessly as if inspecting her outfit for the night. Not bad, but he would have added a couple of accessories. Masks and everything, she hadn’t been hard to spot after seeing her meet with Sky more than once throughout the night. “I’ve heard ‘bout ya. Having fun at the party?”
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CLOSED: Bronx x Banks ( @drkvlght ) LOCATION: DULCE TIERRA WINERY & VINEYARD
“This is shit”, Bronx complained as he leaned against a pillar at the back, pulling his mask of for a moment to rest from the pressure around the head caused by the elastic band. He reached for an aperitive at one of the tables, shoving the cheese into his mouth without little care of possible witnesses. In fact, he probably looked close to a starved mouse when he felt someone nearby. Slowly, he turned around hoping it was not Micah or Sky, and a sigh of relief left him as he discovered someone else. “Yeah, so... don’t tell anyone about this, okay? I don’t know if us staff are allowed to take food from the main tables”.
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Closed: Bronx x Nari ( @sxtmefree )
Location: Diner
"It's almost Valentine's Day..."
Bronx muttered while carefully painting his nails over the table, the smell of cheap nail polish filled the are around him and a couple of sips to his peanut butter milkshake could give the idea that he didn't give it much importance.
"Almost one fucking year since the Carnival's fucking jump scare. Can you believe the police has found out nothing? Unbelievable. I'm starting to think they're into this as well."
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"Shut up, girl", Bronx laughed at her drama about the t-shirt, "You know I appreciate you, you dummy". He stretched to ruffle her soon-to-be-ruined hair. As if he was not an annoyance himself. Bronx knew he could be quite a handful, so these little moments of higher moral superiority were something he would snatch at the first opportunity. "As a dancer at the lounge, I can smell a broken heart from miles away; they always bring in the most cash," he replied with a smile, "so yes, I could smell your rejection from very far away", Bronx teased. "But listen, if they rejected you is just because you deserve someone even better, you'll have to learn how to be patient until another person arrives to your life to make you happy in the best way possible." He advised as he moved between his bedroom and the bathroom to start preparing everything they would need. It was not like Bronx knew much about love... or anything at all; sudden contemplation got him thinking if he had ever fallen in love but the answer came in negative. He had seen his friends fall in love, though, that had to count for something... right? "December is gonna be fucking cold, so having you as temporal roomie doesn't sound like a bad idea; but you'll have to bring the snacks at least if I'll have you here all the time". Bronx stopped on his tracks to think between both possibilities: having her waiting in the darkness of his apartment like a gargoyle perched on his couch waiting to attack or feeling the ominous dread of being followed in a town were murderous events took place every now and then. "At least if I scream in my apartment it will be less embarrassing that screaming in the middle of the street, so I think waiting for you in here seems more appealing to me than pissing my pants mid-street."
He smiled at the compliment thrown back at him, the brief vulnerability shared between them was shown through little sincere smiles before the idea of naked souls became too much to handle even for him. "I have clothes specifically saved for hair dye so no biggie," Bronx shrugged off before going to his bedroom again to fetch said shirts and shorts. "So are you gonna cut off your hair or are we gonna dye your whole mane? Just to know how much product to start mixing," he called from over the depths of his dim-lit bedroom, before coming out victorious with a change of clothes for her and an old shirt on himself to avoid unnecessary accidents on nice clothes. "Are you going to the Halloween party?"
Shrugging off his refusal to use her clothing as a napkin, a perfectly reasonable thing to do, Ava released the hem of her tee, unable to stop herself from sassily remarking, "Ooh, someone's too good to wipe their hands off on my shirt. Whatever, you know I'd offer anytime, even if it's not appreciated." It was simply the way their friendship worked, regarding each other with playful annoyance, at times incredulous disbelief, and underneath it all, bursts of genuine affection. "Yeah yeah, story of my life apparently, so I bet you could smell the rejection coming off of me before I even got to the door," she flippantly replied, letting out a long, slow breath that made it sound like she was a deflating balloon. "Uh, I don't make the rules. You leave your lights on, that's an open invitation for me to come invade your space. And if this is how decked out in fairy lights you keep your place for Halloween, you won't be able to hide from me at all in the month of December," she informed him as she took a proper look around the place at his seasonal decorations, the comment sounding vaguely like a threat. "So... you'd much rather come home to me waiting for you in the dark than hunting you down in town? No, cool, just making sure we're on the same page," the brunette pressed on, barely giving Bronx a moment to confirm or rebuff her statement.
Her cavalier demeanor about the unwanted turn of the evening crumbling and threatening to fall away completely at her friend's sincere comment, urging her not to change too much, Ava tentatively peaked her head out from the depths of self hatred she'd been drowning in all night. Whenever things like this happened to her, she always assumed it was because there was something wrong with her. After all, she was the common denominator when all of her little infatuations inevitably crashed and burned. So the reminder that there were people out there that liked her as is meant more than her wounded pride would let her adequately express right then. "Thanks, B. I mean... not the part about me being dense. Rude. But the rest of it. I think you're pretty cool too." A smile tugging at her lips when he threw an arm around her shoulders, she brought her arm up to his hips, leaning against his frame. "You should know by now that it's never okay to ruin my clothes. Unless you're trying to catch a right hook. So if you won't mind offering up a sacrifice for me, that would be great."
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CLOSED: Bronx x Quinn ( @expctance ) LOCATION: DULCE TIERRA WINERY & VINEYARD
Bronx didn’t know if seeing a familiar face amongst the masked crowd was a blessing or a curse considering he was there to work and not enjoy; but hey, better Quinn than Stella or Cyrek, right? Even though he knew the teasing would see no end with the mechanic, they were still the best option. “Never saw you as the type to fancy these types of events”, he commented with a cheeky smiled as he carried a bottle of wine, the one he was supposedly serving around for the moment. “And see? I’m workin’! Told ya I’d be payin’ some of the money after the holidays; should’ve never doubted me, Pérez”.
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CLOSED: Bronx & Ash ( @prismagpie )
LOCATION: SANTA’S WORKSHOP
“I really can’t decide...”
Bronx was crouching next to the wooden boxes were the lifeless thin plush bodies of several toys laid pathetically. He dug through the fake fur looking for the best options. He had already paid a ticket, so now he REALLY had to pick one; maybe a bear that could match his stolen diadem or maybe a cat? He liked cats; but nah, he could find something better.
He reached for the sleeve of the closest person and pulled them down with him. “What do you think? Bears and dogs are the most common but I am sure there somethin’ cooler buried in here like a bat or a dragon or, I don’t know, a cow? Anything but the boring options”.
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CLOSED: Bronx x Quinn ( @expctance )
LOCATION: Wrench-It
“Be honest with me — “, Bronx laid back on the wall with crossed arms earning him an air of seriousness, a certain level of danger even! Of course, all the posing and acting fell the moment he saw Smudge enter the shop. “Ohmygod”, he squeaked while walking crouched to reach for the fat cat and pick it up with the risk of being absolutely rejected by the animal, but it was worth a shot. “ — so fluffy, so pretty, you’re so fat, an absolute unit”, the Bastard whispered to the animal. Oh, the car, RIGHT. “Ah, as I was saying. I need ya to be honest with me...”, he started again, “...should I like... invest in something else rather than keep fixing this thing?”
The car was an old model he had pretty much dragged out of a junk yard and begged Quinn to help him repair it in exchange of the bucks he could give them and the occasional takeout or little treasure he could find on his missions.
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