#iii. 𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ reply.

[prosperae]

“ oh, damn— ” eleusine didn't need to be side by side with rachel to know that she was smug on the other's behalf, it could be heard in her tone. “ that's my girl. i'll be right there, just stay put, don't go anywhere. i'll bring pain killers with me. ”

whilst she spoke, she was wandering through the cameron house, gathering her keys and other things. “ anything else you want me to bring? ”

@nosestealer, cont. from here.

[prosperae]

now, it looked like topper was beginning to get it. thank god. “ yeah—it was and even that's putting it mildly. imagine if it were a person she ran over. the fact that you would have been in the car with her? you would go down with her, no doubt. ” just the thought made her frown.

" I hear you. I'm gonna have to think about how to go about that because that shit on the beach was crazy. I thought we were gonna kill those pogues and even in the end when I thought it was over man when kie brought that turtle over ? I still feel nauseous thinking about it. "

" I'll keep that shit locked down and she'll do it otherwise we're done. I don't want whatever's gonna happen next on my conscience. "

[prosperae]

slowly inching towards her lipstick collection . . .

“Hey—” Between her calling out to them in as stern a tone as she can muster and grabbing the nearest object— which happens to be a hair brush —and chucking it at them. “Back up.”

UNPROMPTED SHENANIGANS., feat. @ncvabcrn.

[prosperae]

💋 to kiss my muse! (and from whichever other muse of mine she wants)

“ … i hope your schedule's clear, ”    she mumbled between kisses pressed to the dealer's jawline, lips curling in the slightest as she neared his ear.  it didn't matter if it was or if it wasn't, either way she would be dragging him out of the trailer park—and they both knew that.    “ because i'm going to the mainland … and you're coming with me. i need good company. ”

[  ✉  ]    SEND '💋' FOR KISSES FROM RACHEL,  ft. @favcritecriime

[prosperae]

“ oh, shit, go for it. here, pitcher's all yours. ” with that said, she pushed the pitcher in question toward eleusine. “ would you believe nobody else appreciates my artistry? though i can't say i blame them because i went through a phase in my teens where i thought every drink called for everclear and everyone hated me for it. they still do. ”

@nosestealer, cont. from here.

[prosperae]

﹙ SMS. ﹚ that's what she said.

“I think I would be better suited in front of the camera, in that case,” Accompanying the thespian's smirk were narrowed eyes, brimming with mischief. “...that's if you wouldn't mind sharing the spotlight though.” With that said, she gestured for the other to sit, sliding into one side of a booth herself.

[ SMS ] : oh thats evil!

[ SMS ] : better hide girl im coming inside

[ SMS ] : i see u

and he's swooping in to surprise her if that's even possible. ❝ hey! next time get my permission if you wanna film me. you might get some better footage that way. maybe even x-rated. ❞ he's waggling his brows. smooth.

[prosperae]

she failed to come to a point of understanding—because she doesn't understand. perhaps she was selfish, perhaps eleusine was a better, more mature person than she was because if she could spell her mother, she would. she would spell her to want to be in her life; she would spell her to love her. despite their differing opinions on this certain topic and rachel's confliction, she bestows a smile on eleusine.

“ you, miss blackstone, are the person i aspire to be. ”    says the blonde, reaching out mid sentence to boop her friend on the nose.    “ just when i think you can't possibly be anymore selfless, you go and surprise me. ”

@nosestealer, cont. from here.

[prosperae]

tags. (3/?)

iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ answer. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ commentary. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ mention. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ reply. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ status. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ closed starter. iii.    𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫.‚ open starter.

[prosperae]

that kid from american horror story? the chick that moved into the house he haunted? she squinted, giving the description some thought, and when she realized what he was talking about, she fell into momentary laughter. “ wait, tate and violet? you mean tate and violet? ” grinning, she shook her head. “ what do you know about american horror story? when did you watch? ”

surprise raised her brows—then excitement widened the smile that already existed. she couldn't conceal her emotions from rafe. she never could. “ really? ” she nodded eagerly. “ you think i'm going to say no to having you all to myself? ” she chuckled. “ yes. that sounds perfect. ”

"you won't move on. i'll just come back as a ghost. to either haunt whoever you might attempt to move on or have ghostly human relations with you. like that kid from american horror story with the chick that moved into the house he haunted. "

rafe means every word. rachel has seen him through a lot of dark times. from his dad's passing, through withdrawals from drugs, to struggling to make the same type of name his father had made in business. she stood by his side through it all and without her, he was sure he would have given up or snapped back into old habits. "that's my only goal in life." he tells her, another soft kiss placed to her lips. "so, i was thinking....what if i put a pause in work today? go on the boat and enjoy the rest of the day together?"

[prosperae]

“You know, you...”  She paused, or rather hesitated whist she brought her vulnerable look to meet Nathan's, then she realized she was showing more emotion than she ever allowed herself to, then masked vulnerability with mischief.  “You don't have to listen to him.”  Although that was easy for her, who had been disowned by her father at fifteen years old and who had disowned him in return, to say. However, with every choice came a consequence, and with the decision to cut her father— and step-mother, by extension —out of her life, came an unbearable loneliness. She had no family—but did she ever?

Suddenly, the heaviness that came with their topic of choice, that came with bringing hidden depths, masked sadness to the surface, became unbearable. A change was needed and of course, as usual, Rachel took initiative. She shifted and twisted, bringing herself face to face with Nathan with a smile and a look in her eye that gave away that they were about to embark on an adventure.

“Imagine with me for a little bit,”  She made a gesture, instructing him without words to look ahead, at nothing but at the same time at everything in front of them, which right then and there consisted of the courtyard.  “You and me, we decide we've had enough, that this town doesn't deserve either of us, and we leave Arcadia Bay in our rearview in the middle of the night. That's the best time to do it, you know. With everyone fast asleep, there would be no one to stop us.”  Just theorizing, she found herself giddy, teeth sinking into her bottom lip to keep her smile from growing any wider.

“Where would we find ourselves first? California? You would get the Rachel Amber experience; a tour of my old stomping grounds. Or perhaps Florida? Ooor... would you and I be more adventurous, less predictable than that and could I somehow convince you to trek Mount Everest with me?”

She got it. Rachel wasn't like a lot of the other people he knew. Everyone had their own bullshit, but she suffered alone and often in silence. Unlike most people, who Nathan didn't even want to hear about their problems, he wanted her to confide in him. For Rachel, he made an exception. And it was fucked up. It scared the shit out of him. But at the same time, it made his chest feel less heavy to hear her confess her feelings to him.

"Fuck Arcadia Bay. And fuck Blackwell." He would never escape this place. Sure he would leave at some point, but this place would always be his grave. That's the choice already made for him by his father -- all because he was a Prescott. They owned this shithole, and because of that he would always be tethered to it. Nathan would never be free -- always chained to his family even if they hated him. Even if he never added up.

"My dad expects me to stay here forever." He would always expect him back. Unless he disowned him, which scared the shit out of him. "But he also wanted me to play football and you see how that shit worked out." A pause.

"You're too good for this town, Rachel."

[prosperae]

“Life shifts in an instant—and you want to capture what was because there's no guarantee that life stays the way it is right now, or the people you know now, will be a part of your life in ten or fifteen years, and you want a portion of them to keep to yourself. Makes sense.” It was sentimental, but it was the right amount of sentimental in Rachel's opinion.

Already it was beginning to feel like she was peeling back the layers to Max Caulfield, known to Rachel solely as Chloe's former and current best friend before now. And because the other bared a portion of her soul to Rachel, she would do the same—

“Chloe ever say anything about Rachel wanting to be famous?” The blonde inquired, shoulders rising and falling as she spoke, “Yeah, well... it's true and it's less because I love applause and want to hear hundreds and thousands of people screaming my name, and more because...” She trailed off, piecing together her explanation in her mind.

“When you need to escape, when life's harsh and throwing curveball after curveball at you, what do you do?” She questioned. “Some people turn to their hobbies, whether that be writing, or photography, or some other thing... most people though, they turn to films and shows, and they lose themselves in them, and the characters, and for the brief time that they're in some other world, theirs becomes bearable.” It doesn't make sense yet but wait.

“I want to be the break away from reality that people turn to. I want to be the thing people use to distract themselves from the fact that the world is crumbling beneath their feet. I want to make people laugh, or smile, so hard that they forget they were sad. I want...” To be useful—because if she's useful then she's worth something. “...I don't know, to be helpful, I guess.”

Listening to Rachel, Max couldn't help but smile just a bit bigger. Being a tourist passing through this town was honestly much more interesting and carefree than being a resident of it. From the outside it looked far less...problematic. And that was putting it nicely. So this was Rachel's spot. It brought a question with it. Where was her place? Max honestly wasn't sure. Her dorm, maybe?

The next question caught her off guard, mouth slightly open and blue eyes wide. Not many people bothered to ask that question so she couldn't say that she had a full answer prepared.

"Pictures are like memories. Memories you can't forget. When you're going off of a memory, they tend to get hazy over time. Unfocused. But with a picture? You capture that moment forever. Kinda like freezing time for a moment. It's nice to look back on all those old photos, to live in the moment for a little while." Max murmured, voice almost timid at the admission. Did it sound silly? Maybe she was being too sentimental.

"I don't want to forget the things or people that I see. One day I want to look back at all my old photos and be proud of them, to remember every detail that I can."

[prosperae]

When he took her hand, to her surprise she didn't flinch, didn't retract. Everybody who touched her since her return was either met with a shake of her head and retraction or a harsh 'DON'T TOUCH ME!' before the thespian stormed off from the culprit, fists balled at her sides. Whilst he insisted that she had a life still, that she could still go anywhere and do anything, she listened, and whilst she listened, her eyes latched onto his.

Once all was said and done, she shook her head. She chuckled sheepishly.  “Don't apologize, it's... okay.”  She reassured him.

Sympathy curved the once thespian's lips downward. Nathan Prescott with all his talent could have done something with his life beyond what his father wanted him to. Rachel spot potential in him, in his photographs... hell, even on stage during The Tempest. She saw him making a name for himself, becoming someone more than Sean Prescott's son. Now, to see him more broken down, more shattered than she ever had before... her heart aches for him.

Amongst the things she knew about Nathan, was the fact that touch made him nervous, and so every movement of hers was slow, when she lay her head on his shoulder, when she looped an arm through his and when she laced her fingers with his. She needed human contact—and she convinced herself he needed it too. She was prepared to be met with rejection though, whether that be because he pulled away or because he pushed her away and she wouldn't take offense in either scenario.

“Remember that day... like, a year ago, or maybe it's been longer than that, when we were sitting on the steps and I told you to imagine with me?”  She questioned. Simultaneously, it felt like that day took place yesterday and a hundred years ago.  “When we let ourselves... pretend for a couple minutes that we were going to get out of here, see the world together?”

She paused and in the blonde's pause, she sunk her teeth into her bottom lip, and peered up at the other as best as she could from where her head lay.

“I wish... we could have. I wish we did—run away.”  Neither of them would be in the position they found themselves in. Neither of them would feel like shattered glass, hastily and carelessly taped back together. They wouldn't be full of remorse and regret simultaneously and they wouldn't be tiptoeing around each other, afraid to set each other off.  “...Honestly, I wish it were possible now.”

Her tone makes him flinch. But at the same time, without registering her words, one word comes to mind. Finally. But then he realizes that she isn't going to tear into him. Rachel truly doesn't hate him. She doesn't WANT to. It's almost enough to make the tears return to his eyes. At her apology, he just shakes his head ever so slightly. Why the fuck was she apologizing?

And do what? She asks. And it felt like needles digging into his heart. Rachel had been stomped on. Her fire extinguished. She had been broken. By him. By Jefferson. He thought about how, when he was younger, his eyes used to light up seeing photos and movies. Seeing performances live. All things his mom dragged him to, mostly. But it made his heart feel warm. And slowly, his father snuffed out the fire that was lit in his heart. Comments and punishments. Nathan never stopped enjoying those things -- dreaming about them. But he had to do it in secret. His mother stopped taking him. Nathan was meant to enjoy art because it was classy -- not because he wanted to partake in it. Not because he felt touched by it. And in the same way his father dismantled his ability to openly enjoy things, Jefferson had crushed Rachel's dreams. Acting, modeling, getting out of this town. All things she had the skills and drive to do. And yet... now she scoffs at the concept. Rage filled his lungs and he breathed it out in a shaky sigh.

But he didn't speak. He couldn't. Because he was afraid of sobbing again. He swallowed the lump in his throat and listened. She shifted closer, and he glanced at her for only a moment before his eyes drifted back down to the ground beneath them again. How could he ever look at her again? Even if he wanted nothing more than to comfort her, it wasn't something he was ever capable of doing. Nor was it something he deserved to do at this point. He was the one that caused this.

No one gets it but you. How fucked up was that? It was HIS fault that Jefferson could do what he did. Even if Nathan hadn't intended for her to get hurt... Even if he had been used and manipulated... That fact didn't change. She must be so alone if HE was the only one that understood. He scoffs, finally able to control his emotions enough to stop from crying again. But something about her words revives something in him. And he acts without thinking -- as always.

"What the fuck do you mean?" Without thought, Nathan grabs her hand with both of his. His hands, way too soft for a Prescott (or so he was told), were trembling like his voice.

"You can go anywhere Rachel. You can DO anything. This place isn't gonna be your fucking grave. It's not meaningless... None of it was stupid." Nathan meant every word. He released her hand after he realized he had grabbed her. "Shit-- sorry." He didn't deserve to do that. He probably DESERVED to get slapped.

"..... I can't even look at my camera anymore.... He took that from me. But... I can't fucking bear the idea of him taking anything else from you."

[prosperae]

“Well, obviously, because who'd want to hurt this face?” She doesn't have an answer for the other thing.

"I DON'T DO THAT TO YOU WHEN YOU TAKE MY SHIT, SO WHY DO YOU HURT ME?!"

[prosperae]

“ perhaps that was my plan all along. i can neither confirm nor deny. ” said the blonde whilst grinning at him. pink bloomed in her cheeks. damn it, since when is jj able to read her like the back of his hand? she observed, adoration clear across her face, and when he looked back to her after he was done, she made a show of clapping. “ not bad. i dig the fact that we're not so cliche now too. ”

" you sound so damn lame when you talk like that like you aren't just like me ready to fuck someone up when you have to. " He shakes his head but drops it because it's Rachel and it's like arguing with a brick wall, he does like the choice she made though! JJ & Ra. It's nice and it did rhyme !

Once she gives up he takes the knife back cackling. " Is that the real reason or are you tryna be cute carving JJ and having me do your initials. " He smirks wolfishly but approaches the tree doing a rough RA in the bark then an even rougher circle around it and finally a fuse making it a bomb.

" it's perfect ! Dontcha think? Felt like a heart wasn't really our style. "

[prosperae]

“Mmm..” Hummed the blonde thoughtfully as she contemplated the idea, arms crossing over her chest. “Fine. You seem like a man of your word, so we'll shake on it.”

He snorts trying not to laugh and shakes his head quickly. " Nope! No rabies and I get my vaccines every year. I... Am what you call feral by choice. A real call of the wild kind of thing. "

[prosperae]

“You haven't—and that's real criminal. Are you going to or am I going to have to apprehend you, Mr. Cameron?”

"i like the sound of that." he smiles softly at her. "have i told you that you look beautiful today?"