#sav thread 001

[naomiayodele]

"I asked for recommendations, not an opinion." She corrected. Naomi certainly wasn't about to get into or let Sav's behavior get her out of character. They weren't friends then and that wasn't going to be changing anytime soon. Naomi could however treat her like a customer. One she would see once and likely never again - Simple.

"I guess. Go for it." She wasn't familiar with the artist. She also didn't know the situation or the reason behind buying the gift. Naomi didn't even care to ask. It was none of her business and she was sticking with that. "If you like it, I love it." She mustered up a faint smile.

Sav let out a generous sigh, surely coating the records with her before her with her demon's breath that she then continued to rifle through, paying little to no attention anymore— Naomi, clearly holding onto some mild to severe torment Sav potentially was included in in 2000 and late. Wasn't her first, wouldn't be her last. Though, it had been a long, long time. "Maybe it does need my wrath. Beats phony smiles and fake niceties. I think it's a pretty good balance." She said to the air above, thoughtful in that Naomi was the one to come to her. Holding her hands up in silent arrest as she went on, "And I would've thought by now you—oh, no. Nevermind. I haven't thought about you at all, like, ever..." Rolling her eyes, was she really getting into it with a vaguely familiar face from high school? Turning her attention back, she brushed the hair out of her face and said, "Because you asked, and I'm making conversation? Unpleasant as it might be. Just, yes or no? Is it a good 'thank you' gift or not?"

[eliaswyler]

with: @savstone-rp location: sav's apt in weaver ridge when: a random sunday, early afternoon

"You're out of eggs." Elias made this announcement while mid-yawn, grinding the heel of his hand into a sleep-crusted eye and simultaneously nudging around toast in a skillet. A stupidly late night at The Pour House had led him to crashing on Sav's couch, and now he'd ransacked her kitchen, the limited counter space littered with what was possibly the entire contents of her fridge. He really hadn't been awake for long, making a much-needed pitstop to the bathroom before deciding to cook -- initially as a wordless thanks for putting up with him, but now mostly because he was just hungry as fuck. "At this rate, you should just give me a key," he joked, glancing at the blonde while switching off the burner. He flipped the bread onto the growing tower of French toast, stomach grumbling. At least it smelled good.

[liightningchosen]

@quicklylearnt   /   STARTER CALL. 

       EVERY WORD HE SAYS is a lie --- he manipulates, to get his point across most times. But when he steps out of his metal suit, showing Barry   (and Team Flash, watching and listening from the Cortex)   who he really is, he thinks back to the words he said to Jesse,   “I have GREAT PLANS for you.”   That was a lie too; he didn’t want to hurt her. A piece of him aches for a time he considered her a sister, before he embarked on the nightmare to destroy Barry Allen. And as soon as he’s got Barry incapacitated, he runs to STAR Labs, grabs Jesse with little fight --- he’s still faster than her, and he needs to talk. 

       THEY’RE ALONE IN HIS makeshift base, and he stares at her through the speed suppressing bars, words caught in his throat. Instead of genuine emotion, Savitar dons his natural smirk, raising an eyebrow.   “You��re awfully quiet, Jesse Quick. I thought you’d have more of a reaction than this. Now it’s just BORING.”   He scoffs, crossing his arms.   “Well, at least you’re one less speedster to deal with right now. The only one to hurt me, too. That really did hurt for the record.” 

[dahliayoung]

Her racing heart calmed as she registered the familiar face that had approached. "Hey," she greeted, setting her guitar aside for a moment. "I was preoccupied, don't judge me."

She chuckled, shaking her head slightly. "But no mace needed for you, obviously. What brings you out here? Avoiding a client?" Lia could tell from her friend's relaxed demeanor that she wasn't in any sort of rush, and Lia was glad for the unexpected company. "Want to sit for a bit? I've got some new chords I'm trying to work out, and maybe your presence will ward off any potential stalkers."

She had an hour or so to kill before having to be back at the salon, a toss up client too. They'd cancelled multiple times fifteen- twenty minutes before due to some fear of weather, something. So instead of passing the time at The Aurora or Labyrinth, with an almost supernatural sense her last cut and color of the evening would be canceled, fresh air would have to do. (Also she learned long ago, she was shit at cutting with a buzz).

She recognized the string plucker from afar, not really sure what urged her to make contact but she did, fanning a surprised face like the others, "I don't know how. You're like the perfect target for a freaky stalker man. Don't get me wrong, glad you didn't pull the mace but damn."

[aidanbishop]

'Wanna help me with these?' sounded like the lead-in line within the first fifteen minutes of an amateur porno, but Sav made it work, hitting just the right note between hopeful and sultry. Aidan would've helped her. He would've forgotten all about the grossness of Anchor's floors to drop down on his knees in front of her and get her out of those jeans. It was Nessa who'd been beckoned, though, so again, he watched, eyes alight with interest and head tilting for a better view of... some perfectly innocent fussing over a stubborn button. He snorted under his breath, shooting Sav a knowing look when the shorter blonde flounced away to continue their game.

Nessa was dropping the fucking ball -- or just not interested. Aidan couldn't really get a read on her, not in the same casually familiar way that he knew Sav would give him a hard time no matter what move he made. The nauseating green drinks seemed to make Nessa bubblier, but something about her energy still read as skittish, reminding him of a fawn skating on a sheen of fresh ice (and he'd blame that weirdly Disney-ified animation in his brain on the high proof of their festive cocktails).

Balls clattering and layers shed, Aidan grabbed hold of the cue pointed at him, giving it a teasing tug to reel Nessa in while stepping towards her. "I don't think this is your first time playing strip pool..." he accused, the barest twitch of his lips giving away that the slow narrowing of his eyes was purely playful. Aidan continued on his way, rounding the table to Sav. "Show me how you hold a stick." Low hanging fruit, but an innuendo was an innuendo. Passing over the pool cue, he guided her closer to the table with a hand on her hip, hovering right behind and ready to copy her every move when they leaned over the table to line up the next shot. His arms blanketed Sav's while simultaneously handling the cue together, practically cheek-to-cheek, making it easy for Aidan to turn his head and whisper in her ear, "Cute panties." And then louder, for Nessa to hear as well, "Wanna make things interesting?" He blinked to the blonde across the table. "If we miss this one, we both strip" -- easy for him to suggest when he still had jeans on -- "but if we sink it, you gotta lose something else. Fair?" @savstone-rp

"Oh? You didn't know, all this—" she started, the pool stick a pointer and waved it back towards the bar, to his Green Grinch cocktail, "loser's paying for?" She joked, rolling her eyes and she wore a crooked smile. This was merely a distraction. For Sav when her heart hurt distractions were the only kind of remedy she knew. And, the way Aidan watched her—leered might be more like, on an average day would send an ick straight through her whole being. But coupled with even the split second of the warm, soft skin of Nessa's palm giving a seeming go-ahead to include her in the distraction, excitedly so. Sav wanted to see more. She bent over again to repeat what would undoubtedly be another failed shot, unlike 1/3 of her opponents, the buzz from the alcohol did nothing for her pool game. A broad smile broke out across her face as Aidan's words kicked the ambiguous swirl of sexual tension in the room with them up like dust and Sav took her shot. Miss. It wasn't on purpose, she did try-ish. "Practice does not make perfect." She said, standing again, the stick sliding through her fingers, it's end bouncing with a thud off the floor. Taking a step away from the table and gave herself a once over, jeans it was. Sav's eyes raised to lock with Nessa's, swallowing back any nerves and asked, "Wanna help me with these?" @nessagates

[naomiayodele]

"I see you haven't changed at all." Naomi replied dryly. They were never really friends - classmates at best. If anything, they were paired for a group project once. Naomi was always cordial with Sav - even when she probably shouldn't be. "It's not a stupid question. You're the one that is walking around like the world needs your wrath." It was more so surprising she had anyone in her corner that tolerated her enough to live with her. It was good that she wasn't alone, but how could they stand it?

"I honestly would've thought that by now, you would've matured and stop acting so nasty towards people. Your snide remarks is not necessary." Maybe Naomi just knew that manners were important. They were complete opposites. Naomi didn't know much other than how she watched her behave back in the day. A decade and she is still seemed to be well miserable with life. "I don't know why you're asking for my opinion, you should know your roommate."

Sav made a face when Naomi countered her wall-art point—she wasn't wrong. "What? Why wouldn't they be? I just don't want to stand here for another thirty minutes filtering through special editions upmarked by twenty bucks and these dumb 'ep's' with only five tracks for the same price as a normal record, who the hell decided that was a thing?" she asked, more to the record store Gods. That was truly ridiculous, but she also wasn't about to go to the counter for an easy way out either. A wirey smile did filter through though when Naomi pointed out her own personal complaints versus what Chandler might enjoy and into their living situation; "That's a stupid question, that's—it's not like it's—" she stopped there to think on that though, "Well it's not like a whole lease thing, he helped me out," the actual real question being, and soberingly so, was when it was time to go. "Whatever, alright, if you do like making wall art out of these, and I got you three—okay two, of the best from this band you love, would you think of me always and forever? Like is it worth it or does who gave it to you become just as commercial as these singles records twenty years later?"

[naomiayodele]

"Wall art is crazy. Everything is basically streaming services so there is nothing wrong with collecting vinyl." She could tell she had startled her. "Is everything okay? You seem... in a hurry, Sav." Naomi paused finding the right word. Now she wasn't one to pry, but sometimes she couldn't help herself. She just wanted to make sure that her old classmate was okay.

She glanced at the vinyl and chuckled. "I've seen better names." She shrugged, listening to Sav continue. "A thank you present? Um, you just refered to vinyls as wall art so maybe pick something else?" Naomi suggested. She had a point though, sometimes albums especially these days didn't fill complete. They felt like fillers which sucked. "I mean if you think he would love it then why not? There is nothing wrong with old bands or listening to older music. Real question is, are you sure everything is working out with the roommates?"

She was trying to get out The Vinyl Hub as quick a possible — simultaneously feeling stomach sick with nerves at being seen by staff (or, certain staff), and like she'd just chugged two Monsters and popped a caffeine pill after a full night of no-sleep. Horrible combo, so much so she was startled at Naomi's question and overall presence, "What? Oh, nothing. Thirty bucks for what? Wall art? I don't think so." But she was actually there, to waste said dollars. Three or four fingers set though on some options, "I guess, this. Stupid fucking name, my roommates always playing them though. I kinda gotta get him a 'thank you' present. It's that or a later album but singles are usually way better anyways, especially old as fuck bands. Never not going down hill."

[aidanbishop]

It was like they were playing an endless game of musical chairs, the pool table acting as a central buffer as they rotated around it, one by one. Aidan dutifully slotted in on the nearest empty side, settling in to do what he did best: watch. His gaze was steady, unwavering and shameless as Sav did her thing, leaning over the table to assess the game -- and, in the process, granting him a pretty eyeful of her cleavage. But then she was standing again and declaring a proxy, making Aidan roll his eyes and automatically reach for the nearest glass. "Bullshit," he scoffed into the rim, taking a drink that tasted like instant karma. He cringed, making a point to set it far away from himself, a hand raised to wipe any pesky green foam from his mustache. "Are y'gonna try to tell me we put money on this game next, too?"

Maybe he was getting hustled. (Was that possible in a game of strip-anything?) The likelihood shot right up when Nessa had no qualms about subbing in for her fellow blonde, either, but Aidan didn't make another peep of protest. He simply got comfortable, stooping where he stood with his arms folded against the side of the table, poised beside the target pocket. All eyes were on Nessa, and it didn't even take a breath-holding second of tension before the ball was perfectly sunk. Well... shit. A silent huff of amusement had Aidan's nostrils flaring a bit, head shaking as glanced up from the table to look at Nessa again. "Maybe you should give her some pointers," he suggested, innocent as could be. Blue eyes slid over to Sav, brows lifting. "Or a little hands-on help." @savstone-rp

She lit up a little more, Nessa's laughter was infectious from the other side of the table, or, of course could've just been the Green Grinches —or twelve. But there was much more fun in banking on the other blonde's teaming at the dude's shortcomings— and there definitely wasn't a lack of that where the game of pool was concerned.

Aidan, Arlen, or Allen, seemed the kind of guy that she'd lock the doors on, maybe, or the kind that would freak her the fuck out in the corner all night only to see some newsticker to send in any information on his whereabouts, but here there were. He was almost naked and slapping her ass with his shirt like they were in a locker room. —though the look in his eye didn't scream locker room, she knew that look, she returned that look, that something shifted in the room. And she felt herself flush. "Give me that—" she said, snatching up the stick he had no business using.

"Five pump Freddy over here," She joked, rounding the pool table, lowering herself into position, Nessa lit with a hazy shadow of the overhead light in her direct line of sight, giving her a once over as the only one not on the verge of nip slipping. Sav stood up straight again, clad in only her bra and the jeans she debated in what she was losing first, if she lost this one, "Since we're cheating here, you're obviously actually pretty fucking good, be my proxy?" @nessagates