erenozturk

[erenozturk]

Option B.

It was the middle of the day and all he wanted was a cup of coffee. Eren had been up at ungodly hours on a case, woke up early to meet with a new client, and had been on his feet, roaming around town on dead end leads. If he was going to make it through the next few hours of case work and filing, then he needed a pick me up. Evidently, so did the whole town. Gloved hands around his to-go cup, he gave the Barista a faint smile before turning to make a bee line to the door, eager to be on his way to his office for the final hours of a never ending work day. But the universe had different plans for him.

He hissed irritably as just the smallest splash of hot coffee slipped over his glove and under his sleeve, searing against his skin. His knee jerk reaction to the scalding hot liquid on his skin was to drop his own cup, their drinks now mingling into a large puddle on the floor and on his own lap. “Not fucking kidding you,” he snarled between grit teeth, darkened eyes narrowing at them. “Maybe you should watch where you are going.” He was more irritable than normal for him, grabbing napkins off the nearest table and stomping them beneath his feet to mop some of the mess while simultaneously blotting his thighs with even more napkins.

open / accepting replies (will probably cap it at four replies? not sure. my thread count is actually insane but haru needs love too)

A. in Paws and Claws

It didn't make sense for one of their first stops in town to be the small pet store, but that's where Haru found themself. In the midst of colorful collars, treats, and basically all they could need, Haru was carrying two overfilled baskets with stuff and still looking for more. Did their cats need new collars? No. Did Haru grab two for each cat? Yes. Did they need this ungodly amount of treats? No. Was Haru getting it all? Yes. Shuffling through the tight aisle before bumping into a small display and nearly causing it to topple over. "Fuck." Thankfully they dropped a basket on the ground in time to keep the display from falling. "Maybe I should check out." They whispered before looking to see someone near where the display almost fell. "It didn't hit you, did it?" The question was more just to confirm rather than to take accountability for what happened.

B. in any coffee shop, bakery, or eating spot

Haru should have known better than to walk into the small eatery at rush hour. They really should have. But against their better judgement, they entered, ordered, and received their order. The problem was just how many people were inside the place. It took a matter of seconds for them to bump into something and then another, and suddenly their drink was all over the floor and on themself. "You have to be fucking kidding me."

[erenozturk]

He watched Bex rather curiously, surprised by how her awkward honesty endeared her to him. Though it didn’t show — Eren looked as severe and irritated as ever. Still, he shrugged a shoulder before saying, “I’m not good at it either. I suppose we’re evenly matched in that sense.” His eye followed the nudging of her foot, assessing the fire pit for a moment. He had known a basic amount about camping survival, including how to start a fire, but he wasn’t the most outdoorsy person. Still, he was glancing about them and assessing what they had at their disposal which could be easily used for the task at hand. Her rambling hadn’t caught him off guard — it made sense with her overall awkward demeanor. “It’s fine. Don’t apologize for just talking, I think that’s the point of this whole excursion anyway.”

Slipping a hand inside his pocket, he felt for his Swiss army knife, pulling it out and looking for the blade attachment as she offered him the flint. “I already know how to do it, so why don’t you take charge of that. Learn a new skill. I can guide you through it if you want. It’s simple,” he said, “But before we do that we will need kindling, tinder or fuel of sorts. I can look for tinder if you’d prefer to take the kindling? It’s just small, dry sticks and twigs. Should be plenty around.” A cursory glance around them confirmed as much, but he wasn’t sure how dewy the air had been and if that made any of the sticks around them too moist to catch fire.

Eren's words didn't do much to reassure Bex's nerves, but she tried her best to not get discouraged. "I mean, I don't mind it, really. I-it's nice to meet new people, you know? At least, I think so. I'm really bad at...doing that, so it's kinda nice to just have it done for me." She rubbed her arm awkwardly a moment before glancing around at the task before them, nudging the empty firepit with her foot. "How about starting a fire from scratch? I...definitely don't know how to do that. Do you? I've done it with a lighter and, like, scraps from the dumpster before, and I've read about how to do it with two sticks. But! They have to be specific types of sticks, did you know that? Or we can find some flint, but then we'd still need another, harder rock to make sparks with." She wondered if she was talking too much again, but it was a part of who she was, really. She looked back over at Eren sheepishly. "Sorry. I tend to ramble sometimes."

She bent down in front of the fire pit and started digging through the provided supplies. "Oh! They did give us some flint. Here-- do you wanna try it?" Offering him the flint from the pack, she gave a grin. Was it too much to hope that she could make a friend from this? She was trying, really.

[erenozturk]

A single dark brow rose at her words, the rest of his face impassable as stone. Eren rarely showed emotion aside from irritation, so just expression didn’t match the words which fell from his lips. “Hm, funny,” he said in a tone that was so monotonous and dull, it hardly sounded like he thought it was truly funny. But he was incapable of lying, so it should have been enough to make it clear he had meant it. Funny… But he did not laugh, lips pressed to the rim of his glass as he took a sip of his drink and resumed scribbling onto paper, eyes occasionally flickering back to the television with the faintest amount of interest in what was going on. He supposed he could see why she had such an enthused reaction, but he was one who didn’t passionately express himself so he could never match that kind of elated response. Not even to the most exciting of things. And one would think seeing the US Men’s Gymnastics Team work their way to a medal after 16 years was incredibly exciting. At the time, it was more like white noise for him.

Massaging his hand through the leather gloves, he only grunted at her gloating. Creatures that could lie had such robust egos, he found it suffocating with some. But he wasn’t a conversationalist, and he wasn’t about to point out her checkered love life as some indication she was not always right about choices or something as a slight. Though he could have — he saw the marriage and divorce records after all. “Astute, aren’t we?” He grumbled at her pointing out his gloves. Everyone noticed. It was hard to ignore a man wearing leather gloves in the middle of summer. “So you saw one faerie doing this and then assumed it was a species trait?” Another lift of his brow, “Does your back hurt from the stretching you did there with that generalization?” But his tone did not portray any judgement. If anything, there was a hint of amusement at the edge of his voice. “Do you always ask people personal questions before properly introducing yourself?” Eren asked in lieu of giving her an answer, stretching his fingers before laying his gloved hands to rest against the top of the bar and turning his full attention to Daphne. “Why don’t you give it your best shot and theorize — why do you think I wear them?” He decided to turn the tables on her, hiding the truth behind a long sip of his drink.

Daphne pressed her lips together and returned his expression with one of her curious confusion. She could see his aura all around him, and while she had yet to figure out what they all meant, she knew his, like a few others in town, was so distinct she wouldn't even begin to be able to mistake it for anyone else's in town. A man she couldn't quite get a solid read on, like the ebb and flow of tides. Just when she thought she could catch a glimpse of what was beneath his surface, the waves rushed out, making it impossible to make sense of what was in, the depths of him. All Daphne knew was he was a private investigator, a faerie and he did not like to touch or be touched. She turned it over in her mind, her thoughts running with a million potential avenues, momentarily paused as he raised his glass. "Should I put it boring?" Daphne questioned curiously, digging for the intent of the phrasing.

She nodded, "I tend to be," she gloated without a hint of irony and frowned at herself; shaking the thought and taking a drink, she nodded her head towards him as the roaring of the tv faded into the background of her mind. "I noticed you often wear those," she said nodding towards his singularly gloved hand. She had also noticed he didn't seem to like to be touched, "I thought it was a faerie thing," Daphne, ever curious and wanting to know, pushed her glass around on the bar top. "This place is so unknown to me, I hate that," she admitted, finding the reality that Fae allegedly couldn't lie a bit of an unfair disadvantage and leveling with herself to always be as honest with them as possible, "I was wondering if it's not a faerie thing like I'm thinking then, what is it?" Daphne asked, turning to face him from her stool. Finding beating around the bush to be exhausting, and she had done enough of that in her day-to-day that it felt like a small exhale to just brave the question now rather than picking at the threads of pretense, hoping to pluck the right one.

[erenozturk]

His eyes darted about as wildflowers grew around him, the faintest smile gracing his often severe face. Eren quirked a brow at Amrita, head tilting to toward his shoulder as he replied, “Oh I don’t know about that… Some flowering plants are rather deadly. Oleander is extremely poisonous, for one. And they can attract deadly things. Such as bees, which one can be highly allergic too.” Despite the seriousness of his words, there was an air of amusement to his tone, as though Eren were teasing her. Plucking one of the wildflowers that she spontaneously grew, he spun it delicately in his gloved fingers before offering it to her. A rare and friendly gesture, marked by a warm bow of his head. “You haven’t? Duct tape crafts are all the rage for camps. At least… that’s what I have seen.” He had taken the time to look up camping activities in preparation for the retreat, though that all seemed futile now. He hadn’t prepared for these “trust building” exercises, and he had the dreadful feeling he was woefully underprepared for the days ahead. “You can make just about anything with Duct tape, since it’s so sturdy. You just need quite a bit of it. And since it comes in so many colors and even patterns, you can make some unique looking things,” he shrugged. Eren watched her carefully a moment, playing with the cuff of one of his gloves. Nodding slowly, his eyes travelled back to the trust falls when the next contender prepared to fall back into (hopefully) waiting arms. “I understand completely,” he said, before bluntly adding, “I can’t imagine why anyone would choose something so divisive for the sake of ‘bonding’.” He glanced at his hand for a brief moment. “Then again, maybe it’s because they knew that only a small handful of us would reject this.” At least he wasn’t alone.

Eren shook his head, having never made any sort of friendship bracelet alone. He could reason it was because he wasn’t all that crafty, but the reality was he hadn’t had friends to share with. Maybe back when he was a kid, though back in those days he was bullied more than befriended. And now? Well, the last person who ever got close enough to see him for who he was underneath the surly demeanor had long gone. “I’ll hold you to it,” he said to her invitation to teach him, figuring he may as well learn, even if his only friend was the Doberman who waited for him at home and wouldn’t keep a bracelet on if he tried. Any sort of calm in the man disappeared the moment she brought up paired events. Tilting his head back to stare at the leaves above, Eren sighed deeply. “I truly don’t look forward to that,” he said quietly. But he didn’t allow himself the space to dwell for long. If he got so worked up about it now, he’d be woefully unprepared for the day these paired events would take place, which would only prove to make things worse. “Of course,” he answered, drumming out an upbeat rhythm on his thighs. A couple years in marching band before he gave that up to be a sullen withdrawn teenage banshee, and a long obsession with music, gave him some basic grasp of rhythm. “Can’t speak for the others, but definitely for myself.” He spoke with a resolute assurance which gave him the faintest air of arrogance. “Is a whisper challenge where you have a phrase which you then whisper into each other’s ears until the last person reveals what they were told, and you try to see how close to the initial statement you can get?” He was quiet and thoughtful a moment before shrugging, “That would be more fun than falling into people, I suppose.” He said it with such a dry sarcastic tone, the joking nature of it could have been so easily missed.

Amrita didn't truly know how to feel about Elena. The young witch decided that shoving the thought of her being involved in Mason's death deep and as far away as possible just for her own sake. It was better to think that there was no one to blame even if it was a lie. Her expression soured, brows furrowed for a second before her attention shifted back to Eren. "Then you must be on your guard with me throughout this whole event. Though I don't think flowers are that scary." With an easy move of a hand, small wildflowers sprouted all around Eren. She shook her head with a small smile. "Duct tape wallets? I've never heard of that." Eyes widened in curiosity. Was that a campy thing to do? How had she never heard about it. How fun. Probably a waste of tape. "I do love s'mores. I hope we get those. It'll be much more fun than..." Her voice trailed off. She didn't want to be a downer, truly, but this whole thing felt ridiculous.

The young witch chuckled at his words, thinking there is definitely going to be a white guy on a guitar. Wasn't that how the movies surrounding camps went anyway? "Hm, both? Have you made them before? I like the beaded ones because it's quite easy to make flower shapes with them, but the ones with embroidery floss feel sturdier. I like any crafty hobby if I'm honest. It's nice to work on something repeatedly. I can teach you... if you want? I don't have embroidery floss here though." As Eren mentioned how cool the embroidery floss bracelets were, she promised to make him some. Maybe it could be black, grey, and white? Would he like that? He didn't seem to use colors on his day-to-day clothes. "That sounds about right. Who knows? Maybe at the end of the event we'll eat our words. I heard there will be a pairing event. Kinda nervous about that." Being stuck with a stranger doing an odd activity sounded like a bad time, but maybe it could lead to new friendships? Amrita touched her forehead, massaging it. This whole back and forth was tiring. She wished she could settle on how to feel about it. "Do you have a basic grasp of rhythm? Is that something the Fae Court does?" The idea of Eren and Aiyla doing some silly sign games with music in the background brought a smile back to her face. "Or a whisper challenge? Have you heard of those?"

[erenozturk]

His eyes followed the line of her gaze to his make shift bed, shrugging a shoulder. “I’ll manage,” was his oddly hopeful response. He may not have been used to roughing it like this in nature, but Eren was used to sleeping in his car while on assignments, or just not sleeping at all, and figured he could make this work. He would make this work — he had given himself no other choice or option on the matter. Eren nodded and hummed in response to her first words, not looking directly at the deputy for a moment. That was until she made her offer. He should have seen it coming, the offer for them to swap places. It was noble of her to do, and what were they if not noble? Curmudgeonly as he could be, Eren would never put his comfort before another. It wasn’t how he was raised. The only thing he prized above others was his phobia, but otherwise he would rather be in the dirt than take the more comfortable sleeping option from another.

“No,” he said almost immediately, leveling hard eyes on her. “I have extra, thick clothes to layer up in as well,” as he always had more layers than necessary, “And I can manage. I’ll be fine, though I appreciate your offer and generosity. But this will be fine.” The banshee did snort at her comment on the net, trying to recall who ended up with it before shaking his head, “It’s fine. Heights aren’t for all. While I don’t particularly mind them, the idea of sleeping in a net is also tragic.” And that was true. He hadn’t minded being high up, but it hadn’t sounded comfortable in the least. He would have rather slept on the hard ground in any case, but he wasn’t taking the bivy sack from her. Still, he worried her noble side would insist, so Eren decided on a compromise, “It’s two nights — we’ll swap on who gets the bivy sack. You have it tonight, I’ll take it tomorrow.” He thought it was a fair deal, and if he hadn’t had his hang ups on touch, even gloved, he would have offered to shake on it. “Deal?” He said, arms crossed rather resolutely over his chest.

Jo wasn't necessarily upset that she had to sleep in a bivy sack. Honestly, it could be much worse. She was however, upset that Eren ultimately would be forced to sleep outside. She and Eren weren't best friends. Being a P.I and a Deputy meant they had some fundamental issues they did not agree on, but it also meant that they could lean on each other when it came to cases. Perhaps Jo had some information she needed to get and didn't exactly have a way to do it in her line of work, she'd turn to Eren. Or, Eren needed information that was held in a database Jo had a log in to. They could have a mutually beneficial relationship, and so far that was how it had been. And on a personal level, well Jo liked Eren. He kept to himself, didn't talk when it wasn't necessary and sometimes you needed people around you that were like that. Which meant she didn't want him in a situation that made him uncomfortable, and clearly this arraignment was a nightmare for him.

She was currently checking out the bivy sack and the space it had. Honestly, if this was just her sleeping arraignments she would be pretty content with this arraignment. But it wasn't. Noticing Eren had returned from the bathrooms, she gave him a soft smile as she continued to wind down. She'd let him talk when he wanted to, she had decided. And clearly that was now, as he asked about how she was settling in. "Yeah, you?" She asked, eyes drifting to his makeshift sleeping arraignments for the night. Obviously there was only so much they had been allowed to bring out here, and Jo had packed her pajamas, a second layer of heavy clothes in case it got cold, along with snacks and water. Realizing she probably had more to keep her comfortable out in the grass then Eren, she made a decision. "Yeah, grew up in the woods so my mom and I would go camping a few times a year. How about you take the bivy sack tonight? I have some more clothes I can layer up in to keep warm. But at least in the bivy you've got some shelter. " And a nice place to escape everyone. "Besides, we probably would've been okay in the giant net if I wasn't so scared of heights."

[erenozturk]

Eren did not normally like going to the bar. At least not during the usual times — he would sneak in during the more off hours when he could enjoy a drink in peace and without the crowd of jostling bodies. During those hours bars were usually quiet, more serene. It was a good place to go over some work while also unwinding. And given that most of his work happened in the clandestine hours between late night and dawn, when he typically found himself at Bad Moon Brewing hours later was more or less at the end of his typical “shift” and after a short sleep. That was the case that day, a craft beer in one gloved hand while a surprisingly bare hand held a rather ornate looking fountain pen as he haphazardly wrote in notes on a file. Another adulterous bastard unmasked, and a detailed report to be delivered to a disappointed housewife. The less interesting work he oftentimes picked up during grueling summer months. Why did the assholes always choose summer vacation to really get sloppy with their secretaries?

He’d been so dutifully engrossed in his work, he wasn’t giving gymnastics as serious a watch as he would have normally. Maybe because he was upset the men’s team from Türkiye didn’t advance further, or maybe it was just because he was more interested in watching Simone and the women on their journey to golden glory. Still, his dark eyes flashed up to watch the affectionately dubbed “pommel horse guy” do his thing, brows raised in the subtle expression of “rather impressed”. What wasn’t impressive was the patron beside him who was quite excited about the routine and nearly high-fived him. The audacity. Eren’s eyes slightly narrowed as he took a slow sip of his drink, watching Daphne Bishop correct herself. “Hm,” he grunted, a grizzly sounding noise under his breath, before ultimately lifting his mug towards hers. “That’s an interesting way to put it,” he commented, bringing the drink back to his lips for a more sizable gulp. He had set his pen down to flex his hand, cramping from the amount of writing he’d done. “Rather accurate,” he glanced back at the screen. And he supposed she knew better than most what pageantry was, considering what he knew of Daphne Bishop’s background. Which was a lot — Aiyla did ask him to look into her, after all. And Eren was always thorough with his detective work.

Daphne & Eren @erenozturk Bad moon brewing

Daphne's eyes didn't move from the screen, not even as Skye set down her drink, threatening to switch the channel if she tipped poorly. In answer, Daphne dug into her wallet and handed him a twenty while rolling her eyes, her teeth snapping into a smile that was weighted with bite. She had nothing to say to the brewery owner, she'd only come here knowing it was likely to be least crowded during the day while most people went off to their 9-5. She could watch the Olympic recaps in peace while pretending she wasn't truly as alone as she felt. Watching Steve Nedoroscik take his routine and finish with a rush of pride had Daphne cheering, turning at once to excitedly clap the person next to her on the back, only to stop hand mid-air as she registered who was beside her. Dropping her hand smoothly to her beer, she raised her glass, "Cheers to the sports pageant?" she said, raising a brow and holding out her mug by the handle.

[erenozturk]

Oh he was in hell. It was the only explanation. Sometime during all the madness, Eren Öztürk must have died. Spontaneously combusted. Keeled over unsuspectingly. Maybe he took a severe dodgeball throw to the head and hallucinated the rest of this event while in purgatory, while whatever personification of right and wrong duking it out for who owned his soul forever. Why the latter won was beyond him, but surely he was in one of those daunting rings of hell being subjected to the greatest torture of his life.

That is to say he was forced into two paired tasks.

It was beyond him as to why he of all people would be dealt such a task. There were plenty of gregarious people out there, plenty who would have gladly stepped into his shoes. But they had to choose him, a grade A grouch with a penchant for unfriendliness, to be coerced into spending mandatory “bonding” time with another person he didn’t know. As he wandered to the place he was supposed to meet his next paired partner, Eren wondered exactly what he’d done in life to deserve such misery. “I didn’t get into recycling until more recently,” he reasoned quietly to himself. That must have been it, having only within the past few years become a bit more environmentally conscious.

Grumbling to himself, he was already fiddling with a cassette tape pulled out of a leather satchel dangling by his hip, shoving it into the Walkman he always carried with him and lifting the soft headphones over his head so he could drown out everything in music. That was until he approached, pausing A Flock of Seagulls’ “I Ran (So Far Away)” (as he wished he could) in time for Bex’s apologies. With a soft sigh, he raised a hand, pulling the headphones down to rest around his neck before waving her words off dismissively. “It’s fine,” he said after a brief moment, tone just a tad softer than normal. It wasn’t her fault whoever she was initially paired with didn’t show up… He could try to be pleasant as he made up for that for her. “Nice to meet you Bex. Easy and short sounds good to me. I’m sure you’re eager to enjoy time off from all the mandatory things, anyway. I guess the sooner we get through this, the sooner we can be on our own.” He spoke rather bluntly, but not entirely unfriendly. At least not as blatantly as he could be.

And I ran, I ran so far away. I just ran, I ran all night and day. I couldn’t get away.

He sighed as he remembered the lyrics of the song he’d been listening to, feeling a little too real in that moment. Shaking the thought off, he gave her a sharp nod as he sniffed, “So… Where should we start with this survival stuff?”

Who: @erenozturk Where: In the woods somewhere, for the pair-up event survival tasks

Bex was notoriously bad at meeting new people, it made her anxious in ways that often led to her simply leaving the social situation or telling the other person that she wasn't going to be around for long. Which was usually true, but she didn't really have either of those options anymore. And especially not in this situation, where part of this whole camping week competition thing was to meet her assigned partner and perform a task with them.

Except that Bex's partner never showed up. She waited patiently for them to assign her a new partner as she paced, waiting. It felt unfair to whoever was going to get stuck with her, not just because it was her, but because it would be their second time.

So when the guy she'd been assigned to partner with finally showed up, she was already apologetic. "Hi, sorry. Are you Eren? I'm Bex." She glanced around nervously before returning her gaze to him. "Umm, sorry you have to get stuck doing this twice. I thought maybe we could do an easy one? Something we don't have to, like, spend all day doing?"

[erenozturk]

“Testing. One, two. Testing. Diane, it’s 8 a.m., Seattle, Washington. As you have no doubt surmised, by the clarity of this tape, I’ve purchased a new Micro-Mac pocket tape recorder – "the big little recorder" – at Wally’s Rent-to-Own, 1145 North Hilltop – where, as the sign says, "a bargain is a bargain, no matter what the cost" – for twenty-one dollars and eighty-nine cents, cash. I decided to pass on the rent-to-own option, Diane. Leasing may be the fast track to an appearance of affluence, but equity will keep you warm at night. I have no doubt that this new model will prove to be an extremely useful tool in the investigatory process- where the most fleeting insight can be lost if your hardware isn’t as solid as you think it is…”

Kyle McLachlan’s voice reverberated through his headphones, and if anyone had paid him close enough attention they may have noted a slightly giddy bounce to Eren’s step as he walked along listening to the casette tape. What a find, and what a steal — The Twin Peaks Tapes Of Dale Cooper, in pristine condition and fairly cheap at a yard sale he had just happened upon while between assignments that afternoon. How long had he been searching for this only to come up dry? Sure it wasn’t his usual mixtapes of music from yesteryear, but it felt as good a find as a rare vinyl, as satisfying as a first edition Hardy Boys. And after spending late nights tailing adulterous spouses or reliving death after death while holding the objects of lost or long deceased loved ones, he needed something fun to pull him from reality for a bit. Maybe a trip down the psychedelic Twin Peaks lane was the right escape.

Opting not to drive that evening and taking in the warm but breezy summer night while on a leisurely walk, Eren was crossing by the gazebo as he listened to the audio fiction, almost completely lost in the words drifting through his headphones. Almost. As always, his insatiably curious mind could wander at the sight of something perplexing, and a young woman laying on the sidewalk, arm over her face, at this hour seemed to fit the bill. Pushing down on the pause button with an audible click, Eren lifted his chin to get a better look at the person laying there as he pulled off his headphones. Clearly his approach had been heard, and he raised a single dark brow at the dramatic reaction. “I don’t care if you want to wither or not,” he replied in his usual dour tone. “You’re in the way,” the banshee noted, motioning to her body draped across the side walk. For some reason, he just didn’t like crossing the grass when there was a perfectly paved route cutting through it. “Is this your way of getting back at Capitalism? Doesn’t seem to be that effective.”

SETTING: near The Gazebo, around 8.30 pm. STATUS: open ( @lunarcovestarters )

Gabi is the embodiment of impulsivity and bad decisions along with being unable to say no to a challenge that presents itself. She had a closing shift at Joe’s last night then opening shift combined with four hours of sleep, because re-watching Jersey Shore season 1 sounded like a better idea than getting much needed rest. Yet, her exhausted body could be salvaged with the greatest afternoon nap Lunar Cove has ever seen if — well, if she didn’t agree, last minute, to cover for her coworker’s afternoon shift at Happy Scoops.

But that’s all in the past and you can’t change the past or whatever the inspirational quote on the back of her diary says. Gabi has been dragging her aching legs to Shadow Lake, her sweet sweet soft bed calling her name. But she comes as far as The Gazebo in Town Green when she decides walking is just not for her at the moment and she throws her backpack down and lays down next to it, on the sidewalk shielding her eyes with the back of her arm. When her ears register the movement nearby, Gabi dramatically moans. “ Let me wither here. Capitalism is out to get me.”

[erenozturk]

setting: the campgrounds, night one

featuring: eren öztürk & jo parker @deputyjparker

His life was no fairy tale, but if it truly had been then Eren’s story would have started simple: Once Upon A Time there was a boy who fell in a hole. Ridiculously sounding at first, until the event which would end up defining his entire existence had been outlined. An event which he had tried to blink away from the hazy corners of his mind as they’d been driving through wooded areas towards the massive clearing for the final exercise of this whole event. Eren had spent decades of his life trying to forget that moment, the tumbling forward over his own bicycle into the murky depths, scraping his knees and elbows, trying to feel around for purchase, only for the deafening squelch as his hand settled into something soft and decaying. He had to swallow down bile at the thought, covertly taking a large swallow from his water bottle and hoping no telepath could hear it as he silently smoldered and reminisced. The last thing he needed was a panic attack where the whole town may see.

Perhaps that was why he’d been so damn surly during all of it. Anger flaring at the “sleeping arrangements” he and his partner had been securing, the only comfortable option for such a low ranking team that ensured they both slept decently without having to explore the potential of accidental touching being stolen away by some douchebag of a witch who by the way was too fucking tall for the sleeping bags anyway. This was asinine, this was messed up, this was—

It's a cruel (Cruel), cruel summer Leaving me here on my own

He liked the way Bananarama put it, the song blaring in his ears as he went about setting up for the night. Perhaps it was karma, for having dealt a somewhat cruel hand to a fellow fae with their own situation during the whole swap and steal mess of the game, but Eren found himself trying to craft a makeshift bed out of what he’d brought for himself beside the weird sack which he unceremoniously dumped on his partner. Perhaps it wasn’t as kind a gesture as it could seem — gentlemanly, because of course the ghost of his mother haunted him and told him he needed to take care of anyone else he was with more than himself, but there was also an odd sort of dynamic between local law enforcement and private investigators. A weird sort of camaraderie that also gave way to some level of animosity and rivalry at times. So he offered Jo the bivy sack while he neatly folded up the jacket and extra long sleeve he brought along for the two night camping, creating a sort of pillow to layer over his duffel and then laying out his unseasonal trench coat he took with him everywhere as a sort of “mattress” to lay on. Perfect by no means, but it would suffice.

Arriving back sometime later from the bathrooms, toothbrush still sticking out of his mouth and the nightwear combo of a potentially surprising white short sleeved t shirt and less shocking joggers, (because he’d been boiling all day in his layers and perhaps needed the cool night air on his skin to calm) Eren settled down onto his makeshift bed, flattening his leather gloves before carefully placing them between his folded clothes pillow and the duffle. Shaking his fingers out, flexing the digits that had been choked all day in their comfort confines, he turned then to the sack which was a few feet away and lifted his chin in an acknowledgement nod towards Deputy Parker. “Are you settling in fine?” He asked, words soft and expressing a sort of care though his tone was painted in his frustration with the whole thing. He was spraying his bare arms, the sleeves extra short and hugging his shoulders, with big repellent and had his head phones around his neck, volume up enough to hear the low hum of his music, but not enough to fully register the words. Eren stopped the casette player a moment later, digging out the tapes he’d brought along and flipping through to find a calming music mixtape he had made a while back for anxiety inducing moments such as this, shoving it into the Walkman and placing his small collection back into the duffle but not playing it just yet. “I’m sorry I didn’t spring for something better, but I assumed off that hiking pack that you may potentially be used to some level of roughing it while camping?” And at least it was ground level, as he could originally tell with one of their other options that the deputy disliked heights.

[erenozturk]

Dark brows pulled tighter together at her line of questioning. Anyone who knew an inkling about Eren would have probably known he didn’t like to be interrogated, or to feel as though he was under a microscope. A bit hypocritical considering what he did for a living, but frankly he didn’t care. He never claimed to not be, and he was always very forward about his distaste towards social situations and the like. “There is no deeper meaning, and, even so, I do not wish to talk about it,” he said in an even tone, not at all laced in frustration or any emotion. He said it as plainly as he would state a fact, such as the sky is blue. He didn’t want to talk about it and that was that. These days people would push with the “why’s” and tried to detangle out any reasoning to get some semblance of an answer to their burning curiosities. The banshee did no suspect the advisor would push after he spoke so plainly, and he was never against walking out of a conversation if it persisted in a way he didn’t favor.

Eren barely nodded to her words. They were Nyra’s truth, and if she thought it was fun then he would not fault her that. Surly as he could be, he was not actually heartless. Not like others in town. No, his unfriendly demeanor was the limitation of his rudeness — in reality, Eren was respectful as long as you were, and he could be polite if the moment called for it. “Perhaps a break from everything was needed,” the word was heavy and laced in haunting memories. Everything the former sheriff had put them all through… While it wasn’t his definition of fun, Eren could appreciate the way the others in town smiled and laughed at that barbecue, as though they had not a care in the world. As though their very existence was not being threatened constantly. “…I would have preferred something slightly different,” he said, ever truthful, “But this overall is fine, I suppose.” He couldn’t lie, and “fine” was never a glowing compliment.

His gaze flickered to her for only a moment before they shifted back to the crowd, eyeing the faeries that lingered around. The compatriots, members of his “community”. He wasn’t quite close with them either, just a select few. But even then, not really. He put up too many walls between himself and others over the years, a small part of Eren wondered if he would ever be able to connect with other people ever again. Maybe in the next life, he had reasoned whenever his thoughts traveled there. It didn’t do to dwell on such things. “It’s not a grand gesture, Nyra,” he said, flicking a sesame seed off one of his gloves, “What I did was the bare minimum, as evident by the ‘points’ they gave me for it.” It was a concept he didn’t care for — neither back in grade school when he’d done Field Days for the first time, or now as a middle aged adult. “Do you think something like this — this bonding event — can actually work to bring a town like ours, with people so full of differences and so often at odds, actually together?” He asked after a beat, curious eyes back on her. She was on the council, which meant she may have been part of the meeting where this had been decided. But had she believed in it and what they were setting out to do with it? He couldn’t help but wonder.

"Thank you, that's actually nice to hear that my company doesn't bother people." While such things did not bother her nor did people have like her presence it was nice to know she hadn't interrupted him, "May I ask, if it's not another intrusion, what stems your dislike towards people? I've lived a very long life and have seen many a personalities, some thrive in the midst of a crowd and others prefer a seat in a quiet room, I don't ask to categorise you into any thing, but the perspective would be appreciated – if you want to talk on it, of course, there's no pressure to."

She smiled a little, adding a shrug to punctuate her answer, "I did, yes, I didn't think I would either. But it was a nice change, a break from thoughts." That's how she saw it too, a distraction and a chance to focus on something else entirely. "Mandatory to show up, yes, but you could've sat out every event. I'm glad to hear you'd do this for others, that was the point of it all." Even if he did it for a few, it was still enough, to know they had tried despite not wishing to, despite it not being easy, maybe there was hope somewhere, even a sliver of it that she could cling to. "No, didn't assume it would be, most things are not and that's the challenge of it, to step outside comfort zones and see how you fare." Her eyes drifted to his gloved hands, "But we take precautions when we need to and step away if situations arise, the point was to try, which you did."

[erenozturk]

As Nyra took the seat across from him, Eren softly shook his head at the advisor’s words. “You are one of few who doesn’t bother me,” he admitted. “I don’t mind you interrupting my solitude. Though, you are right — people can be a bit much.” He was not referencing anyone in particular, or anything to do with the activities they’d partaken in. Eren by nature was withdrawn and sullen, not entirely friendly, and he had little remorse for these facts. If it weren’t for a select few, he’d become one of the town shut ins, and he suspected in a few years when he hit ‘retirement age’ he would — he’d close shop and close his door to the world and just be alone with his records and books and memories of a time he was normal and life was simple. But that wasn’t healthy, he knew as much, so he packed that thought into the pits of his mind and ignored it as often as he could. “You found all of this fun?” It was a genuine curiosity that furrowed his brow, leaning forward on his elbows as he assessed her. The fae could not lie, meaning her words were true. He leaned back only at her compliment on his participation, Eren’s dark gaze shifting over the crowd of people he never truly mingled with and was supposed to be bonding with during it all. If he even had the ability to bond with people, jury was out on that. “This thing is mandatory,” was his candid response, “You don’t have to thank me.” But his features softened just for a moment, his tone following suit as he added, “I’m only doing it for the others.” A blanket term that could have been taken to mean the whole Court, but anyone who knew him could tell it was for a select few. Aiyla (the closest thing he had to a best friend), the advisor seated across from him, then possibly Kui (one of the few people he genuinely liked talking to), and maybe even Rangi (whose violent display after Dodgeball may have been abhorrent to others but amused him greatly). If he was supposed to do this to ‘bond’ then he would only do so for people he tolerated. “But it is not easy,” he added in a withering tone, avoiding eye contact in favor of staring at his gloved hands. “Then again, I suppose most things are not.”

To retreat into a quiet space, not just devoid of people, but also a mental place where peace could be found seemed like a wonderful thing, but it was harder to achieve these days. Her focus shifted from one thing to another, and currently from one Fae to another as she sought them out to check up on them. She had wanted to do this though, see how everyone was, bond a little more. "Not entirely, no," Nyra said as she took the empty seat across Eren, "But it can be nice to be alone, people get a bit much at times. I'll try not to take up too much of your time." She faced Eren with a soft smile, "A bit eventful," she answered, "That's about as nice as I can put it, but what are we if not honest? Unexpected yet fun." She settled on that, and it felt fitting too. "It's nice to see you about though. I know these sort of things aren't something you usually partake in, so in a way, I'm also here to say thank you for your participation in these activities."

[erenozturk]

Eren was beginning to think this week was structured to test the absolute limits of his patience. This shouldn’t even have been a bad thing — Escape Rooms required a clever mind to work around the clues and find a way out within a time limit, it was the exact kind of exercise that should have delighted him. And in theory it did… there was just another factor to consider. His brows pulled together as he looked at ‘the other factor’, his often present frown deepening a little. “Are you planning on strong arming your way out? I don’t think that’s how the game works,” he said in his gruff, velvety voice. He’d been quietly looking around, mentally checking off anything that stood out as strange in the environment, things that could help tip off for clues and puzzles. “I’m methodical by nature, but I think their intent is for us to combine our wits and strengths to get out of this — what are you thinking about breaking?” We should have done the mirroring activity.

closed starter for @erenozturk taking place in Escape the Cabin

"Okay. So before we start. I need to know if you are okay with me breaking shit and asking questions after or do you wanna be all methodical about this?" Noel knew they had the one hour time limit, so they were ready. They were pumped, but given the nature of this exercise and how it was all about building relationships, Noel was down to slowing down or follow someone else's lead. Still, they hoped they could break something.

[erenozturk]

He gave her a sympathetic smile, eyes following the line of her gaze to the people sabotaging Elena during the trust fall. Grief was a fickle thing, wasn’t it? For a faerie shrouded in death, he supposed he understood. He saw it a lot in clients using his banshee abilities for some level of closure, saw it most recently with an elderly widow whose husband disappeared so long ago on a hiking trip, clutching his favorite wrist watch, begging him to try and try to see what exactly happened to him. The gruesome images of a man falling down a rocky cliff side he didn’t know he was hiking on still clung to his thoughts. He knew it was still haunting that woman, as it had for years — some people needed time to work through things. Maybe they shouldn’t have put those still struggling in the same vicinity as the person they blamed, while also asking said person to fall blindly back towards them. “Don’t they say it’s always the person you least expect who turns out to be dangerous?” He teased lightly, surprising even himself with the soft jovial tone of his voice. He flexed his fingers a little, distracting himself with sweeping a gloved hand through the grass beneath him, shrugging a little at her words.

“I was hoping for a craft day. Duct tape wallets and such. Less contact sport and more relaxed and ‘chill vibes’. Or more campfires and s’mores. Some mediocre white guy on a guitar, leading the whole camp in a rousing chorus of ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’,” he ticked off some things on one gloved hand, watching as another person took their turn falling. “Yeah, friendship bracelets are ‘campy’,” he agreed, “What kind would you make — the beaded ones, or the ones made with embroidery floss?” He started gesticulating, leaning his head back against the tree, “You know, with the complicated patterns in all those different colors? I saw that tall vampire going around with the bead ones, which are whatever. The embroidery floss ones can be so cool, though.” He was rambling, which was odd, but he felt comfortable with Amrita. One of maybe three people in the whole town he felt at ease around, and perhaps the only one not in the Court. He frowned and nodded solemnly at her words. He was often pessimistic, and he’d had his feelings on this type of exercise, but he was trying to improve. You have to look at things more half glass full rather than empty, the nasally voice of his secretary had reminded him. Look on the bright side. “I guess some of this is well intentioned, but a bit ill-advised,” he said in agreement. “I wonder if we can convince them to put one of those call sign games on the docket instead. Campy, competitive, and no touching required. All you need is a basic grasp of rhythm.”

Trust falls. When Amrita had heard Elif and Safiye describing what would take place, she felt like she had grown a tail. What were they supposed to do? Fall and hope someone caught them? What logic was that? The witch quickly ushered herself to a corner, not wanting to participate in the event. Trust. The word felt heavy on her tongue. She didn't want to see who would catch her and who wouldn't because there was always the possibility that someone dear to her would reveal that to them she wasn't anything at all. Of course, that wasn't the only reason Amrita was nervously in a corner, biting her nails. A habit that she had outgrown ages again, but she had nothing else to focus on. The mere idea of people touching her and feeling her scars made her want to retch. Thankfully the t-shirt hid the bad, grotesque scars well enough, so Amrita didn't need to wear a long sleeve shirt.

Still, as she watched people drop and then being caught, Amrita shuddered. She wanted to leave. Her bunnies were waiting for her, and this whole ordeal felt so overwhelming now that she knew that trust was the core of it. Eren's words snapped her out of her own thoughts. Relieved to see a familiar face, and to not be the only one not participating, she gave Eren a tired smile. "No. I'd rather do anything, but that." She emphasized that as she watched Elena fall and people purposefully trying to sabotage those who caught her. "Is that how it works?" She let out a dry chuckle at his words. "I thought it was the opposite really. Maybe I got my memos all mixed up." She tried to joke back before noticing his gloves. The young witch wondered if he was hot, and if she could find less hot gloves. She disliked summer the most given her clothing situation, even if it was the most fun season to garden in. "Do you reckon all activities will be like this? I really hope there's some trust exercise in which we don't touch anyone... Like... making bracelets or something. That's campy, no?" A small pause. "Maybe that's too much to ask for though." There was such an uncomfortable feeling at the back of her mind. Did she have to trust strangers? Or everyone in town?

[erenozturk]

Option C

Despite his often sour disposition and general distaste for social interactions, Eren was enjoying the bonfire. Perhaps it was the smell of the fire, the distant calming tumbling of the waves, or the gooey s’mores that did it in for him, but he didn’t mind this. Seated in a comfortable spot by the fire where nobody lingered too close to him, he delicately pulled off one glove to handle the sometimes messy construction of what he viewed to be a perfect s’more — the marshmallow, just barely charred on the outside for a crunchy shell incasing the melted innards, perfectly cut chocolate square nestled just right between Graham crackers, all perfectly centered into a perfect sandwich. Chewing slowly, savoring the melting sweetness upon his tongue, he caught mostly the latter half of Gia’s story, quietly appraising her words while others chuckled. Swallowing the last bite, he replaced his glove and nodded over to her. “Were you ever tempted to go down there to stage a haunting or ghost sighting of your own?” He asked, a rare glint of mischief in his eye. He could be so uptight, so professional, but maybe the s’more and the excitable energy in the air were even affecting the serious private detective that night. “Just to keep the rumors alive?”

OPEN | @lunarcovestarters

A. Capture the Flag [ The Cove's Jail ]

The retreat events weren't the kind of games Gia liked to play. Still, the vampire participated on behalf of the clan. Her loyalty to her people unassailable but questionable with everyone else. "Well I study prehistoric archeology, mostly, but a colleague of mine is a maritime archaeologist. Brilliant in his field." The brunette commended. "But bless his heart, he's a mess of a man. Steps out on his wife who gave him five children. He can't keep an assistant, either, and no one has to guess why." Head still shaking in disapproval, Gia continued on. "So this colleague, he told me that the bottom of the ocean is called the abyssal plain and isn't made of sand but sediment from everything that's ever lived in the sea. How interesting!" The exclamation was followed by an abrupt change in her tone as the eyes in the back of her head, from motherhood, told her someone was trying to escape. "Sit back down."

B. Canoeing [ During the Vampire's bracket ]

Wearing a long, flowing skirt, and kitten heels with a parasail and picnic basket in hand, Gia declined her canoe's paddle and settled into her little boat. The only thing she knew about boats was how to float down river. Which was a favorite past time of hers, growing up, as a young girl in Savannah. The middle child of a dozen and one siblings, they all loaded into oak boats with picnic lunches to bask in the southern, summertime sun. Today filled Gia with nostalgia and champagne, which she packed in lieue of her childhood's picnic lunch. She popped the bottle the second she set sail, bubbling with delight as the liquid poured over the top. "What a lovely day this will be!"

C. Bonfire [ Opening Night ]

They were all just stories at the end. Stories and bones; two of Gia's great loves. Scary stories her favorite kind, ever since childhood when she'd sneak out of bed, wander down the hall, and eavesdrop on her older siblings attempts to spook one another. In a sort of poetic irony that Georgiana amusedly appreciated, she was a ghost story. "They say I haunt the house where I died in Savannah. The story seems to change every few decades. I tripped down the stairs, my husband's misstress pushed me, an evil spirit from beyond did the deed.." A laugh, half-hearted in sound, proceeded the recount. "All are false, of course. They do have my portrait up, though the artist's rendition is hardly as damning as a photograph." Her tongue clicked in audible annoyance, as she grumbled something about stupid cell phones.

D. Werewolf BBQ

Why the clan was invited to a werewolf BBQ was beyond Gia's knowing. Once more, she joined in on the festivities like a good sport and brought baked goods for the food table. One look at the cuisine and she knew she wouldn't be eating anything she hadn't brought herself. Georgiana had a particular palette for human food these days, and it did not include anything that could be prepared on a BBQ. She resigned herself to drinking and people watching, making observations in her mind until someone was in ear shot to hear her commentary. "That guy.." The vampire gestured at someone, random, in the crowd. "..is a beer shy of being able to start a brewery. I give him another half hour, at best. That's being generous." Not so quietly she scoffed, "Light weight."

[erenozturk]

setting: during the trust falls activity

featuring: eren öztürk & amrita singh @dvsconocvdo

A dribble of sweat rolled from the base of his neck, down past the collar of the bomber jacket he wore, and Eren tried unsuccessfully to brush it away with a gloved hand. It was hot — but of course it was. It was nearly mid-July, the middle of a sunny day, and the entire town was huddled into an outdoor space to go through trust fall exercises. No thank you, it had almost left him so fast he must have sounded ruder than normal. Please, no thank you. He limited his touch to very specific instances — predominantly the times he was required to do so for work, grateful for when the ability to touch objects to witness what he needed to could take the place of another’s hand. But outside of those rare moments? Eren didn’t touch anyone. Not even his dog. The idea of touching someone made his skin crawl, brought back trauma he had carried with him throughout the majority of his life, and stunted him. He couldn’t function much under the fear, the heart palpitations, the quickened breath, the anxiety gripping him. So he passed, as politely as he could, tucking himself away on the sidelines to watch time and time again as people fell back and either were caught, or plummeted to the ground.

He didn’t understand how this was supposed to build trust. To him, whether or not someone would catch him didn’t tell him whether or not they were trustworthy — if someone touched him, he’d consider it an instant red flag. Then again, he wasn’t sure he’d done a trust fall exercise before. Maybe not since he was a lot younger. Before that night, before the hole, and everything that awoke in him. Decades ago, lost in a life that he would never have back. He dismissed the memory, the thoughts, once more swiping at sweat on his brow with a gloved hand. Content to be alone there, except the sun was a bitch and a spot of shade would be nice if he would be forced to watch this display all afternoon. So he moved to a shady patch of grass beneath a tree, sinking against said tree with a deep and contented sigh. It was only after he settled that he realized Amrita was also leaning against the tree. He acknowledged her with a soft nod of his head. “Not participating, either?” He knew he wasn’t alone. Cece barely participated, and Eren thought he heard her brother’s hushed concerns of illness as the culprit, and he didn’t think Kui was doing it either. He supposed it was nice, to know he wasn’t alone in his dysfunction. “I thought you were too pleasant to actually be trustworthy,” he tried his hand at a joke, the lilt in his tone portraying it was all just in amusement.

[erenozturk]

setting: the wolf bbq, in the timey wimey soup that is after capture the flag

featuring: eren öztürk & aiyla baysal @aiylabaysal

He did not wish to linger for long. It was not because of some disappointment over losing — that was just the nature of games, someone would be victorious and someone would be the loser. Eren didn’t care anymore about the loss, or any sourness that came before it. But he had overextended himself the past couple days, pushing his comfort limits in certain games and tiring himself using his powers where he could to help his fellow court members. He knew he did not contribute much, his discomfort enveloping him in many of the group activities. Dodgeball was an extra hell as both balls and bodies chaotically moved about him. It gave him a heightened level of anxiety, to the point he began to wonder if he’d ever be okay again. And after capture the flag, and all the mental and physical exhaustion it brought… Home, where his records and hi fi awaited, sounded very nice about then. With his car back in commission, Eren was debating seeking out his beloved Peugeot and dipping from the barbecue, but then his eyes landed on Aiyla, seated alone, and he felt an uncomfortable tug in his chest. He heard through whispers about what happened, and given he’d stopped by when Van Doren had been sneaking out of her cottage before, he had an inkling about what transpired. While she could be so graceful, so kept together, he feared there was more going on behind her dark eyes. Just stay a little longer, he told himself as he looked at her. Say hi. With a sigh, Eren approached.

“Aiyla,” he started in a soft voice, approaching the lonely table where she sat. He decided to not come empty handed, stopping at a dessert table and grabbing what looked safe and not potentially laced in something, to bring for her. “A gift,” he said politely, placing the small paper plate and dessert on the table, just beside her so she could decide if she wanted it or not. “May I sit with you?” He asked. When she gave him confirmation, he slid into the chair beside her, careful so as not to bump shoulders. With his gloved hands neatly folded before him, Eren settled into a comfortable silence beside the Fae Queen, watching the merriment around them for a stretched moment. He was not talkative by nature, something she knew about him. He found a comfort in the stillness of the quiet, one he thought often helped him through hard feelings. But he knew this wasn’t so with everyone. Still, he wasn’t sure what to say, and chewed on the inside of his cheek as he debated how to approach the subject.

“You know,” he started without thinking much, “He has a mug shot from a trip to Ibiza. From about 18 years ago, early into his college years. Got into a fight at a club, nasty thing…. Hadn’t fully grown into his ears yet. So it’s just this narrow face with a big swollen eye, then two saucers on the sides of his head.” He motioned to his own face, sucking in his cheeks to make his face slimmer, sealing one eye shut and cupping his hands behind his ears to illustrate. “Found it for a cocktail waitress, about a year ago. She printed a ton and plastered them all over his car… I don’t think I had ever heard a grown man squeak before that day.” He made the smallest bemused noise, a sigh of a breath, while recalling it. How many spurned lovers asked him to look into the gallery owner in the past two years? One too many, he reckoned. “…I might still have it, if it would amuse you to see it,” he shrugged, “We can print even more copies and make an art installation out of it.” Falling back into a stretch of silence, he moved one of his gloved hands over, ghosting over a moment before gently lowering it onto her hand. He could feel the warmth of her, even through the leather. Still just a vague impression of body heat, always so vague. “Are you okay?” He lowered his voice then, only audible to the two of them, switching to their mutual native tongue to keep it as private as he could.

[erenozturk]

When he saw Kui, Eren approached slowly, making sure to be in their line of vision, and stopping a couple feet away while waving a hand to get their attention. The headphones were always a sign to him to be respectful as he drew closer, reminding him of his own reservations when others approached him. It was only when they spoke up that he drew a bit closer. He still kept what was a comfortable distance for him as he motioned to the grass below. “No, I’m sorry. I saw you sitting here and thought I would come say hi. I wanted to thank you, for these—” The banshee held up his hands, and the gorgeous gloves which he wore, commissioned from Kui. “—They were better than I could have imagined.” He smiled, small and thoughtful, at the flower crowns between them. “I don’t have a preference, at least not while I’m wearing a pink jean jacket.” An oddity — the plum suit at the fae ball was already a step out of his comfort zone, now this? If Aiyla had not been a great friend, he wouldn’t have agreed to wearing this. “May I?” He asked after a moment, motioning to a spot to sit and waiting on confirmation. He wouldn’t be like those that ask and just sit down. If they wanted to be alone, then he would leave them alone. “How do you make them stay together?” He nodded curiously to the flower crowns. “I feel like any time I’ve tried, the flowers just break up in my hands.” Was he too rough? Did he not know a gentle touch because he hadn’t had one in a long while? He tried not to think on that, it felt too pathetic. “It sucks they won’t give us points for these — making them seems like a more difficult activity than these other things.” Except some of them required comfort zones to be breached, and maybe that was more difficult than physical ability. “I think you’d win us a lot of points,” he laughed, an airy, barely there sound.

open starter (probably capping at 4-5 responses!) when: sunday, day 1 of field days where: a clearing in echo acres or some private corner of a field/the town green, whatever works best!

≽·≼

Team building was all well and good, in an abstract sort of way, but Kui swiftly realized if they were going to be any use to their Court whatsoever during these challenges, it would be necessary to temper their involvement, back out sometimes just for the sake of remaining functional. They wished this realization had come a little bit softer, a little less intrusively, prior to spacing out at the archery range. Residual prickles of shame still raced up and down their spine, wrecking havoc on their breathing. It was more restful away from the chaos, and they set to weaving flower crowns to soothe their rattled nerves. Some unknowable stretch of time later, Kui started out of their reverie as another citizen joined them. "Oh, sorry," they apologized, removing their headphones. "Did you want...?" They held out a wreath of multilayered daisies and dandelions. "You know, for the, ah... team spirit? I've got a bunch, if you want a different color."