jillian mercer; he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm( he says it was poison. )
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if it gets lost in the gc i moved to @dcwdrops to be multimuse xoxo jojamart
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quinn.
âWell, this is⊠awkward,â she paused. âCan you just act like you never saw me?â
  Jillian was ready to sit outside Joja again, flimsy cardboard sign encouraging people to shop local clasped in her hand, when an unfamiliar person spoke out to her. Jillian stopped, and stared at her for a beat, before raising her eyebrows, sounding more concerned than annoyed â a phenomenon that was sure to end soon.  â  Is ... someone looking for you ?  â
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alex.
for a moment alex pawed at his eyes with his fingers to no avail, but the heat licking at his heels knocked some sense into him. he quickly mopped up the molasses on his face with the sleeve of his robe, only to reveal the horrific scene before him. jillian, miscellaneous debris, and most importantly a fire. on his house. âoh my god!â he gaped in fear for a moment, then dashed inside for something, anything. adrenaline took over, and he quickly dunked a pot of water under the sink faucet, filling it up before he dashed back to pour it on the fire. it diluted the flames some, but they burned on.
  â  Alex !  â  Jillian balked as he dashed past her and back into the house, voice rising in octave and level in concern as the command to not run into a soon to be burning building died in her throat once he disappeared past the doorway. She watched as the water did very little to contain the flames, spreading on â they got bigger, but she was frozen on the steps of the porch, her mad dash to stop it halted in its tracks by the ineffectiveness of his measures and the paralyzing worry she felt. What had she done?
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athena.
athena now found herself practically running after jillian with a sense of excitement she hadnât felt in a while. she didnât know what was in store for her, sure, but the thrill of finding out was more than enough to put a little bit of a spring in her step. when jillian presented what sheâd found, though, she couldnât help but let her jaw drop. âholy shit,â she said, kneeling down to examine the minerals before her, âthese are gorgeous. whereâd you say you found them again?â
Jillian stared proudly down at her collection, and she smiled slightly to herself, but she snapped out of it rather quickly when a question broke through her mining memory induced trance.  â  Uh, the mines ? â  She answered a little awkwardly. There was a moment of dead silence before she elaborated.  â  There were a few deposits way down. Some of them were tiny and I got all of them here, but thereâs still a little bit down there.  â
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alex.
alex cried out as the offending goo trickled down his face, sinking into his eyes. they scrunched up reflexively, trying to to protect themselves, and he stumbled forward as he tried to wipe it away. as he did, he accidentally struck another flying object, though this one wasnât an egg (?) like the one he felt on his face. panic rose in his chest when he heard a loud clink and a crash to the ground.
  Sheâs about to take up more ammo and continue hurling things at his house when she sees a flash of light move down, and then hears a crash. Oil spilled on his porch from the lantern, the toilet paper soaked in it .... a flame grows bigger and bigger, spreading across the trail left on the wood.  â  Oh my god, Alex, your lantern !  â  Meanness and anger were gone from her voice, replaced with concern and panic as she drops the egg carton to the ground with a splat, rushing towards the porch ... unsure how she will, but still determined to put it out. The fire however, has other ideas, as it continues to grow bigger.Â
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koa.
koa let out a sigh of relief. to wake up earlier than that would have been mission impossible. ânoon, thatâs great.â he raised his fist for a fist bump to finalize their agreement, though jillian never fully denied the sleepover. heâs got time to change her mind. âoh! i was thinking of some stuff to make with it. whenever i see something pretty from a geode, my minds immediately zooms into creation mode. want a matching bracelet? i could probably make that. maybe.â
  Jillian stared at Koaâs fist for a long beat, and sheâs heavily considering leaving him hanging ... before letting out a deep, exasperated sigh â one punctuated with an eye roll â and gingerly tapping his fist with hers.  â  Noon. On the dot.  â  She emphasizes, before turning back to the geode.  â  You donât need to waste your half on making me a bracelet.  â  She mumbles, picking up one of the halves of the geode. Itâs heavy, and she runs her fingers over the inside before setting it back down on the table and picking up the other half, giving it an equal investigation.  â  You know the myth surrounding these ? â
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malia.
it wasnât fair, what happened to both of them. it wasnât fair that they were stripped of things that they loved. it wasnât fair how they felt chained to a town filled with so many memories. when you grow up you think that your town is much bigger than what it actually isâthere was a point where malia thought that this town had wonder and adventure, she spent so many days exploring each and every corner of the valley with her friends, feeling like she was much bigger than herself when she wasnât. reality had an ugly way of bringing you back down to earth. she looks out at all the buildings in front of them, being able to name everyone that worked in each building and how long theyâve been here and she just wanted to leave. all of it. not say goodbye to anyone because it hurt too much. sheâs too drunk to think about all of it, but when jillian says, i hope you can. time feels like it stops, for a moment. she looks down, taking a deep, a little shaky, breath. when she looks up, she stares at jillian for a moment, wishing that she could tell her all that she deserved in this life but knowing that would be overstepping bounds that malia was trying (and most likely) failing to put up. âiâŠâ she says, let out a small breath. she briefly smiles, that sort of sad smile that comes with remembering and loss. âi hope that youâre able to find that too. whatever that is for you,â she says, rubbing her arm feeling a sudden chill. âyou also deserve that.â
  Jillian doesnât believe her. She believes that Malia believes it â that she deserves the way sheâll find to enjoy life. If she finds one. And to Jillian ... that IF feels ginormous, and much more like a taunting promise of its own uncertainty than a genuine maybe. Jillian looks at her, and she sees the past, stretching for all the miles the valley reaches behind them. What do they know about the future? Jillian scoffs, in gentle disbelief, shaking her head wryly at Malia.  â  What I deserve,  â  She falls back into silence, almost lost in thought. Nothing. She thinks, and thatâs what she believes. The silence breaks, voice louder than the soft tone it had taken on. Making her way to the stairs of the saloon again, still stumbling slightly,  â  What I deserve is another drink.  â  Thereâs a mock cheeriness to her voice, though it remains mirthless. With another glance back at Malia, the door to the saloon is opened, light spilling out into the darkness that they stood in ... and itâs closed, Jillian inside, taking the light and chatter of the patrons with her.Â
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finley.
jillianâs comeback only serves to make their smile widen that much more, tinted in amusement. thereâs a tilt of their head, an eyebrow raise. âyou think iâm clever?â the tone of their voice is, once again, clearly playful, if the glint of mischief in their eyes isnât telling enough. finley entertains the thought of jillian listening to death metal, and⊠no, oldies fits her better, oddly enough. âhey! shut up.â they furrow their brows, feigning offense, even when a small bout of laughter escapes them as they reach out a hand to nudge her shoulder. âwhat do you have against banjos? the peas are a great band.â should they count the seconds to see how long her smile lasts? âbetter than the peas? sure, iâll give you that. better than, say, fleetwood mac? not possible.â
  Jillian scoffed, though it was more gentle than mean, seeming as proud of herself as she had painted them to be a moment earlier.  â  I think you think youâre clever,  â  Jillian says, swatting their hand away â albeit playfully â after a nudge on the shoulder. Maybe this is momentary, how comfortable she feels ... itâs momentary certainly, that sheâs allowing abrasive outer shell to crack. But the thing about momentary feelings, however fleeting they may be ... is that they feel good in the moment. Right now: Jillian feels good.  â  Banjos are guitars for people who have a favorite granola. You know what  ?  â  Thereâs a pause to reconsider.  â  Banjos are guitars for people who know what granola is.  â  Sheâs trying to come up with a way to defend the likes of Girls Just Wanna Have Fun against Landslide or the Chain.   â  Itâs about a universal song. Like ... you listen to the Peas when you want banjos. Or Fleetwood Mac when ... depending on the song. Depending on the song doesnât count with Time After Time. You can listen to it when youâre happy, sad, tired. Morning, noon, night.  â  She shrugs her shoulders, giving Finley a pointed look with the newfound emphasis in her tone.  â  After fighting someone on a beach right before their concert.  â
#jillian / with finley.#jillian / threads.#so grateful she's getting any last smiles out <3#only misery from here on out jillian!#let it also be known to me fleetwood mac > time after time
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malia.
the sad truth behind growing up was her growing up knowing that her mother would die. she just didnât think that it would be so soon. sheâs already suffered through one of her fears of getting older. she supposed that she make her feel invincible for the futureâbut it doesnât. it scares her. she sometimes feels like sheâs doing this all wrong. she doesnât know how to be an adult because she didnât have anyone guide her into it. her mom got sick when she was seventeen years old, she felt like she had to jump a couple of ages since then. she supposed thatâs what happens with traumaâany kind of trauma. it ages you, changes you. you act older but still have that mentality of the age that everything happened to you. emotionally, she still felt like she was seventeen and all of her friends were about to graduate and theyâd go her separate ways for the first time in their lives with no promise that theyâd come back. she stares down at her fingers that are slightly shaking, and her brain is still a little bit foggy from the alcohol. âoh, only about eighteen years older.â she said, flicking the ash from her cigarette. she wanted to make some kind of dark joke to her last sentence, but the entire mood around them already was. âitâs awful being a grown up. but the carousel never stops turning. you canât get off.â
  Some people would describe hometowns as ghost towns â a place filled with fragments of souls they once knew, empty of purpose or meaning in a newfound life. Jillian felt the opposite: the Valley was so alive, that she was a ghost wandering through it. She kept seeing the life around her, bearing witness to grass growing and wind blowing and animals and people all around with hearts beating. It was like the earth was breathing, sometimes, and yet, she wasnât. Now at least, the world isnât spinning because of the passage of time or for waxing poetics comparing the living to the dead. Sheâs drunk and sheâs tired and sheâs sad.  â  Well, at least some people have figured out how to have fun on the ride,  â  Jillian muses, unsure if sheâs making sense.  â  I hope you can.  â  Itâs the nicest thing sheâs said all night, maybe since all those years ago. She pushes up off the wall, giving a shaky nod to her, as if sheâs considering a departure.  â  I mean it.  â Â
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athena.
âare you serious right now?â athena asked as she followed after the person leading her through the streets of stardew valley at what felt like full speed, unsure of if she should be laughing or crying. âwhat are we doing? where are we even going?â
  Jillian was feeling unusually philanthropic â which, to any normal person, would probably just be described as kindness  â which meant the minerals she had found in the mines were being donated to the spa. She didnât want to make the trek over there: thus, Athena functioned as a link.  (  What ? Philanthropists didnât need to travel.  )  â  Itâs important,  â  Jillian emphasized, with the utmost seriousness, despite the lighthearted nature of the surprise. She finally rounded the corner to the side of the general store, where she usually cracked open geodes and ore when she didnât need to go to the blacksmith .... a neat collection of chunks of mineral deposit laid out on a picnic blanket.  â  Ta-da,  â  She said dryly, though secretly she was excited to share.Â
#jillian / with athena.#jillian / threads.#i hope this is okay idk how minerals work <3 but i figure a spa would need them#blame meagan if it's wrong she told me
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I'm a ghost Walking on an empty street No name anymore No need to call for me I'm a long-lost hometown hero Late to legendary past lives within me If I had the offer to do it again Make me invincible, invisible, or brain dead If the body and the life were two things that we could divide I'd deliver up my shell to be filled with somebody else
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alex.
alex was exhausted. the kind of exhaustion that even one nightâs sleep couldnât fix. it had always been hard to find time to rest with two jobs, but joja mart especially worked him to the bone. they scheduled him for every waking moment, so he was stuck in a time warp of class, joja, and grading. after a particularly long day, he sunk into the bath for just a few minutes before he started gradingâŠor that was the plan, anyway. instead, alex fell asleep. only a few sharp sounds could rouse him from his sleep. suddenly alert, he rose from the bath and quickly tied on his robe before bolting for his front door. as soon as he swung it open, a flying projectile landed right on his face. he cried in anguish, and his eyes began to sting as goop sunk into them.
  Sheâs about to throw another egg at the door, when she sees it swing open and an egg land squarely on Alexâs face. She gasps, almost letting out a reflexive apology, before biting her tongue. Sheâs not sorry, and she wonât say so. Jillian, in rejection of Alexâs objection to being egged in the face, hurls another egg at the house, though pointedly away from him, this time hitting the timber siding of his home. Then, she takes the toilet paper and hurls it back at the house, sening another toilet paper trail over his house.Â
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finley.
kids are weird. well, that was an overwhelmingly general way of putting it, but finley wasnât going to try and push it. although⊠âno, yeah, youâre right. i think when you glare enough, it loses the conceptual meaning of a glare and it just becomes, like⊠your face.â there it is, that shit-eating grin that shows they are way too proud of themselves for that one, though the playful tone in their voice shows theyâre joking⊠mostly. there is something about the way the conversation flows so naturally, for the most part, that feels so foreign to them, like this wasnât something they expected would happen with jillian. granted, most of the previous conversations barely counted as actual civil conversations. this was just differentâ admittedly, nice different. finley raises their hands defensively at her words, a smile tugging at their lips. âhey, i was your doctor. i get a pass, surely.â they lower their hands then, eyes narrowed in interest at her. itâs one of the first times she provide an inkling of her personal interests to them willingly, and that makes it feel monumental in a way. âitâs a sweet song, though. i wouldnât have pegged it as your favorite.â
  She wants to object to the fact that she has any semblance of a sour toned nature, any idea that a glare could possibly be connected to her face ... but she knows theyâre right, and she has to internally debate whether or not sheâs going to push it. Of course, because sheâs Jillian and because theyâre Finley ... well, she has to.  â  Yeah, maybe. Like how you always have that stupid smile like youâre the most clever person in the world on your face,  â  Jillian suggested, ignoring their defenses. However, something more intriguing than facial expressions is the discussion of favorite songs, which she uses as another opportunity to discuss assumptions. However unfair they may be.  â  What, did you think my conceptual-y glaring-y  â  Not a word.  â  ... face means I have to listen to death metal  ? At least Iâm not the Peas number one fan. Strum any banjos recently ?  â  Now itâs her turn to smile, eyebrows raised in wait for a response.  â  Cyndi Lauper is way better.  â
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alex.
alex could have pointed out that he didnât say anything about sasha, but the truth was he worried about her too. she had been his student all those years ago. he worried about her just like the rest of them. that, however, was neither here nor there in this moment. âokay, iâm glad to hear that then,â he said. he sounded about as convinced as jillian. âi guess iâll leave you be.â guilt still surged them. he wanted to say something, but mostly for his own sake, so he kept his lips sealed.
  Jillian stiffened, stapling yet another poster on to the bulletin board, now looking quite covered with ads for the Mercerâs store.   â   Yeah, you probably should.  â  She spat, and sheâs about to drop it, when she decides that sheâs far too annoyed.  â  You know, you have some nerve coming out here in the sweltering heat, when I am trying to put up ads, probably doing to fucking ... die of thirst or something, and acting like you care about me.  â
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koa.
âhow earlyâŠ?â koa asked warily, well aware of the fact that he never got up earlier than noon on his days off. it was really nice of jill to offer to go with him, even if it was only on her terms. god, she was the best. âmaybe you can call me so i can wake up? that way, we can get even more geodes! i can even break them on the spot for us. oh, this sounds awesomeâ what if we had a sleepover like we did when we were younger? i guess sleepovers in your twenties is a little weird⊠but thereâs always room on the couch at my place!â he rocketed off into a whole mess of suggestions as he cleaned off his hammer and set it down some place else. âwhat are you gonna do with this thing anyway?â
  Jillian never woke up early â she just thought it made her sound more serious.  â  I donât know,  â  She mumbled.  â  Like noon ?  â  She was still busy inspecting the thunder egg, listening as he added another thing, and another thing and another thing â until she cuts him off, exasperated.  â  Yes ... â Iâll call you ! Fine.  â  She falters.  â  I donât ... have sleepovers.  â  She said. She liked being in her bed, at her house, with Brioche in his cage across the room. Where she could sleep until two the next day.  â  Maybe Iâll cut a piece off of it and make a necklace or something. Sell the rest.  â  She looks at him, eyebrows raised.  â  What ? Do you want some ?  â
#jillian / with koa.#jillian / threads.#koa thinking jill is the best#he is WRONG#her mine adventures will not be educational nor fun
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@ahuangsââ / starter
  She was angry â their conversation earlier in town hadnât gone well. At all. Her fury was not necessarily reignited ... but redirected, from Sasha and Joja to Alex and Joja. With her: a carton of eggs she was supposed to throw out because theyâd spoiled, and a few rolls of toilet paper purchased with her own money. From the General Store, thank you very much.They were tucked under her arm in the cloak of evening as she journeyed into the Cindersap forest, with a one track mission on her mind. The only solution: to make Alex pay. Standing in front of his house, she hurls part of the toilet paper towards it, watching as it rolls off his roof, and she picks it up off the grass. Again and again and again, until his house is partially draped in toilet paper, she focuses on the eggs for a moment â chucked towards his house, one at a window, two at a door.Â
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finley.
finley hums lightly as jillian describes sasha, exhaling a soft chuckle, though itâs a bit humorless. to be honest, they canât stop themselves from temporarily pondering over their own childhood. there was probably a chance they could have ended up like sasha, if it wasnât for them never truly being satisfied with anything. it kept them from growing as big as an ego as sasha seemingly has. it was good, in some ways; it always made them strive for more, push themselves to work harder (sometimes a bit too much, most times not for themselves). but it also made them so⊠finicky when things felt stagnant, it made them too impulsive. it led to stupid mistakes, to selfish choices⊠like maisie. so maybe they were just as bad as sasha, but in a different way. they shake the line of thought away, focus back on jillian. their brows furrow. âwhat were you like as a little kid?â theyâre pushing their luck, possibly. she might be talking now, but she could close up in the blink of an eye if she wanted to. still, finley follows it up with a teasing smile. âdid you always have that thousand-mile death glare, or did that come with practice?â thereâs still thinly veiled frustration in jillianâs voice whenever she talks about sasha or her music, but finley simply allows her to let it out. better to have her vent than try and duke it out with sasha later in the day or something. âof course you doâ take on me, right?â they tilt their head at her with a barely raised brow, hands clasped over their stomach as they relax into the sofa. a small callback to one of their previous âinteractionsââ if one can call it thatâ, and one of the few things finley feels they truly know about her, even if sheâs never outright admitted it.
  What was she like? She doesnât like to think about things that happened last month, let alone years ago â more and more years, if she goes as young as theyâre talking. Itâs funny to imagine: a small her, glaring into the distance ... not that she glares that much now, no matter what Finley says.  â  I donât glare,  â  objected Jillian.  â  And I was ... I donât know, a kid. Kids are weird.  â  She glosses over it quickly, not the immediate shrivel up or shut down, but an awkward movement forward in the conversation. She hates to admit it â but itâs nice to talk to them like this. Without worry of her infinite annoyance and complaints, or their willingness to aggravate that annoyance and elicit those complaints. She exhales, rapport somewhat back with a conversational shift.  â  Take on Me is iconic,  â  She relents, remembering the drunken distraction honesty sheâd utilized for ... dip. Memory is hazy, and sheâs sure it was humiliating enough with a dance punctuating the end of it.  â  But the best song in ... ever is Time After Time. Cyndi Lauper â say a word making fun of it, and youâll know what I did to Sasha first hand.  â  That uncharacteristic brightness is back in her eyes, one that almost faded completely in discussion of who she was way back when. Jillian now, at least, still loved the same music.Â
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