temporaryrhymes-blog

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emma.

There was part of her that wanted to be mean back. A small, infinitesimal inkling of she doesn’t like you anyway. But it’s tiny enough that she swallows it, instead opting for the softening of eyes and the jutting out of her chin. A delicate form of self-defense, she refuses to be the one to cause strife between them. Emma doesn’t blame Molly, not really — though she isn’t entirely certain if she should blame her mother or herself for the things that had happened between sisters. Definites were always better than maybes: they would definitely still be close if Maude had never said anything. But maybe, maybe, maybe, if Emma had done a better job, there would be something, anything, but bitterness directed towards her. Maybe, maybe, maybe. “ You came up me, ” She corrects, it’s meant to be a rebuttal, but it’s too gentle. It allows her to be hurt by Molly’s words, by the aggression behind them. “ I — I can … just go past you, it’s really not a big deal, Molly. I’m just looking for the library. ” 

          Their family was a mess and Molly knew it, but that didn’t mean she had to be nice to Emma. It didn’t mean she had to talk to anyone except her mother and her brother. She didn’t want to talk to anyone and she didn’t feel like she needed to talk to them. They were still her family however. Sometimes Molly thought that she ought to be nicer to Emma -- then again, what was the point. She was far too angry at her sister to forgive her and she didn’t want to talk to her -- most of the time. Somehow, it was just still too difficult to walk away from a potential argument with Emma. “You couldn’t have crossed the street to pass me, so I wouldn’t see you?” It was a stupid request and Molly knew it, still she wasn’t about to let anyone talk to her like that, let alone her sister. Rolling her eyes, she looked away from Emma. “You sound like a wounded animal, Emma. Toughen up.” She’d been feeling extra angry as of late, having seen her father around. “You’ve lived here how long now and you don’t know where the library is?” 

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joel. 

     unlike gleb, joel had an ability to compose himself whilst inebriated. a few too many drinks always lead to lowered inhibitions, though the older never lost the control of the charm switch. always on. ‘ consider yourself cut off then, handsome. ’ a sturdy grip of his friend’s shoulder and he relieves gleb of his drink, downing the remains himself before passing it on to a waiter. ‘ don’t want ya runnin’ your mouth to the next pretty lady you see. ’ a pat of gleb’s chest follows before an arm is comically swung around his neck. he comes up a couple inches short. ‘ so … you wanna call dibs or is it free for all? ’

          Getting drunk didn’t happen often for Gleb and somehow he didn’t have the tolerance for alcohol like his father had -- a man that wound up drunk every night, after drinking basically all day. But that didn’t mean Gleb had gotten that tolerance. He eyed another drink on another tray, wondering how many more he could have before getting drunk. Gleb was a bit of a master when it came to not telling people anything about himself. Most people knew, given his name and sour disposition, that he was Russian, they knew he worked at the paper, and that he had a dog. But that was basically it as far as what people knew. “I can have one more,” he replied coolly, wondering if that was even true or not. “Also, if I run my mouth to a pretty lady, it’ll be to send her your way.” Gleb might not have expressed his feelings for anyone in the past, but he didn’t like women. Of course, Joel didn’t know that. No one did. He looked around the room. “I don’t...” he started to protest, then looked at Joel. “That blond over there is attractive.” 

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joel. 

     he could easily tell the girl to fuck off, shove it, leave him the hell alone. but he doesn’t.  just because his own education got wrecked before it had really begun, doesn’t mean he has to DOOM the stranger to the same fate. he sighs, forearms returning to a scratchy wooden surface. the table had definitely seen better days. and so had he. ‘ … ah, fuck it. shoot, blondie. ’ he caves, unexpectedly, leaving his burger to go cold.

          Maybe she should have gone elsewhere to ask people questions. The town hall would have probably been a better place, but Kit wasn’t one to give up when people were telling her to leave them alone. just ask kyra. She instead, smiled at the stranger before sitting down across from him. “Okay, so I guess we’ll start with the basics. What’s your name? How old are you? And how long have you lived in Eden?” She tiled her head to the side as she ask the questions. Kit didn’t really know what she was doing. The assignment was very vague and of course, she didn’t know what kinds of questions she was supposed to ask, but she was trying her best. 

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unholyskies‌.

There was nothing simple about how the Phillips family functioned. Or: truthfully, maybe it was simple. It just wasn’t easy. Something reminiscent of complicated high school age drama. Molly talked to Mason and Maude, but didn’t talk to Emma. And Emma talked to Mason and sometimes Mark, but they didn’t talk to each other. Maude didn’t talk to anyone but the twins, and the twins were decidedly split on who they considered family in the end. It was an ever winding road of complexities and blame and forgiveness, and she hated walking it. But now, the street she was walking was straight and narrow and only of a specific destination: she intended fully on floating in and out of library doors, not lurking there too long — but a familiar voice made dreams of a lazy existence shatter. The sudden confrontation took her out of the moment, if only for a second. “ On … the public sidewalk? ”  

          Maybe their family was slightly more dysfunctional than other people’s families, but Molly had never believed that the seemingly happy families weren’t lying to themselves. Her family wasn’t something that she was even remotely proud of, except her brother and her mom. Everyone else was basically dead to her. While the rest of her family had different opinions on who they even talked to, Molly knew she was the only one that was right in this situation. She preferred it her way, even if Mason didn’t always agree with her. Twins didn’t always agree on things. Sometimes just looking at Emma just made her blood boil with rage, though she kept her anger to herself most of the time -- just lashed out with bitter and sometimes sarcastic comments. Crossing her arms over her chest, she raised an eyebrow at her sister Emma. “You know there’s another public sidewalk over there,” she pointed to the other side of the street. Being civil with Emma rarely happened anymore; she just really didn’t want to talk to her or think about Emma. “Or did you purposefully walk on this side of the street because you knew I was here?” 

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joel.

     it was a beautiful day to be left alone; but of course, any day meant for enjoyment was itself not meant for joel. he’s taking large bites of the diner’s standard burger, seated outside ‘cos it was a beautiful damn afternoon ( one that would inevitably be interrupted ). and so god said let it be. he’s glaring at her at first, though even joel figures that’s a response a bit hostile. even for him. wiping ketchup off his mouth with the back of his hand, he pushes himself away from the half consumed meal. ‘ you payin’? ’

          This kind of assignment was the type that Kit wasn’t looking forward to doing. She had never been good around other people and half the time felt like she just made a fool of herself when she spoke to people, instead of sounding like an intelligent human being. There weren’t a lot of people here at this hour -- but Kit barely noticed what time it was anyway. She was just trying to get someone to talk to her to finish the assignment before it was due and not wait until the last minute. She stood awkwardly next to the booth. “Um, I don’t have any money." 

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joel.

     growing up, joel hadn’t been big on parties. he hadn’t been big on a lot of things, actually. so, nothing much had changed. but he’d always liked drinking. alone, with friends … alone, mostly. though, the crowd didn’t bother him remotely as much as it did gleb, the older having perfected the ability of tuning people out. ‘ don’t have to like ‘em to fuck ‘em … ’ he cocks his head, following his friend’s movements and replacing one glass with another. ‘ somethin’ stupid like what? ’ stupid things were his expertise. not only did he lose inhibitions once inebriated, but he lost all sense of right and wrong. so … drinking alone it usually was.

          Being around other people was far too difficult for Gleb than he cared to admit -- when it came to other people, he’d rather be alone or around one or two close friends than with large crowds of people. His job profession was terrible for that since he had to be around people for stories often, unless he went the more investigative route. Gleb knew how to actively avoid situations where he had to talk to other people, as ironic as that was. “I guess not, but tragically, it’s difficult when your face has a perpetual frown on it.” People thought he was too harsh with his opinions and didn’t approve of anything, which was not entirely true. “I don’t know. Anything. When I get drunk, I say stupid things. Or so I’m told.” 

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sawyer.

     despite assumptions made about sawyer, by adults who didn’t know her well enough to suspect otherwise, she was not sheltered. responsible, maybe. though she’d definitely had her fair share of irresponsible escapades, too. during her teens, especially. but sheltered she was not. the immediate lack of understanding of her reference, however, made her suspect kit was just that. SHELTERED. ‘ like … pleasing other people, kit. c’mon - you know what i mean ! don’t make me say it out loud. ’ she feels her cheeks redden a bit. sex always felt extremely taboo speaking of it around people more inhibited. ‘ you’ve never baked? my god, kit, what have you done? ’

          Kit realized that she was a sheltered person; she hadn’t experienced practically anything and her family hadn’t let her do anything. She knew she needed to learn how to do things, but that normally required her to be taught things by others, otherwise she’d just mess up everything. Kit hadn’t been allowed to be disrespectful to her parents, nor did much that was considered disrespectful or irresponsible -- unless someone counted running away at nineteen. Kit didn’t think of it like that, since she was legally an adult. She looked over at Sawyer for a moment before realizing what the other meant. “Oh! You mean like sex stuff.” Her cheeks reddened at the thought of that. She put her hands to her face for a moment to hide the blush and when it went away, she removed her hands, looking down at the paper. “Nothing, really. I went to school. I can write, I think. Like poems and stuff. That’s not really a marketable skill. I’m not Shakespeare or anything.” 

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@scaredybrave / kit & joel

          One of Kit’s class projects was to interview someone in the town. She wanted to interview someone that she knew, but apparently that wasn’t allowed. So Kit walked around town for a whole hour before finally finding somewhere that looked decent enough to find someone that might say yes to her. Kit walked in and found the nearest person, who told her to fuck off. She just walked away and left him alone. Kit bit down on her lip and approached someone else. “Excuse me, I have to do a project for school and I was wondering if you could take a few minutes to let me interview you?” she nervously looked at the stranger. 

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donovanem‌.

She definitely wasn’t going to argue with Dot. She knew better than to push the girl on her opinions; plus, for the most part, Dot happened to be right about most things, as far as Emerson was concerned. “Fine, you win this time. I can’t argue with you when you’re giving me compliments.” Emerson found herself chuckling. “That sounds… really boring,” she admitted, not even feeling guilty about calling her friend out. “We should get out more. Just because Eden’s relatively boring doesn’t mean that our lives have to be. I’m usually someone who likes quiet… but it’s been too quiet lately, even for me. We should do something to mix things up. Make our own fun.”

          Dot wasn’t shy with her opinion, like some people could be. If she thought something, she normally said it. There wasn’t a point in not telling other people what she thought. In her opinion anyway. Plus, she was right most of the time. “You can’t really argue with me at all because I know what I’m talking about.” Even if she didn’t, she always acted like she did. “Yeah, well, my brother is boring.” He wasn’t really that boring, but compared to her busy life, he was boring. “Eden’s very boring. But I have school and work, so there’s only so much I can do, you know? We can get out of here today. Just go driving around or something. That might be fun. Although we can’t really get anywhere too fun, but at least we won’t feel trapped in this town.” 

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@unholyskies​ / molly & emma 

          Molly did everything in her power to avoid seeing Emma around. She didn’t think that she could be exactly civil when it came to her sister. Their relationship was complicated at best, but then again, their entire family dynamic was complicated. She had a lot of homework that she needed to work on before the upcoming break, so Molly decided to find a quiet place to study that wasn’t her home. Backpack on, she walked down the street, looking at the different places that she could maybe find a good spot outdoors rather then being inside. The weather hadn’t gotten that cold yet. Molly saw a figure looming ahead and rolled her eyes. The last person in town she wanted to see right now was Emma, but they did love in the same town. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone more accusatory than friendly. 

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@unholyskies / kit & diana 

          She’d been here months now and still didn’t know her way around town. The more she seemed to stay here the more she seemed to get lost. It didn’t make any sense to her, but at least there were friendly people that would help her. As long as she didn’t run into Kyra or something. Kit was looking for somewhere to get tea. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to find someone to point her in the right direction. “Do you happen to know where --” the person walked off before Kit could even finish her sentence. Well -- not everyone in this town was nice. Frustrated, she sat down on the nearest bench. Maybe someone would come take pity on her. 

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joel.

     the urge to reach for another drink is suppressed. mostly because he hadn’t finished it yet. not everyone could be gleb petrov, stomach of steel, could they. and not everyone was committed to getting blackout drunk this early into the night. ‘ that’s what you’ve been hiding this whole time? here i was thinking it’d be something less bizarre … like a tail – or girl locked up down in your basement. ’ the older jokes, a scoff and another sip taken from his drink. ‘ yeah, we did … and we could have more of that if you’d just loosen up ! have another drink. the night’s young, brother. ’ there’s a compulsion to cause trouble brewing within joel, as there always had been, though alcohol certainly lowered the wall which kept these impulses at bay. the night was young alright. 

          He could use about ten more drinks, but he figured he needed to pace himself. Making a fool of himself at a party that he technically needed to be in his right mind of for, was a terrible idea. That didn’t stop him from wanting another drink though, especially when there was some nice looking scotch in some people’s glasses. “People can have more than one secret. Maybe I have charm, a tail, and a girl in my basement. Maybe that’s why you aren’t allowed down there.” Gleb rolled his eyes. “Why would I loosen up when there’s literally no one here except you that I even like?” But Gleb took his advice and grabbed another drink. “Fine, I’ll have another drink, but when I say something stupid, just ignore it.” Gleb took another sip of the drink, not even caring what it was. 

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oliver. 

     there’s another roll of charcoal tones: at his attempt to investigate further and at his persistence in the matter. it was as amusing as it was annoying. the stranger’s motions are mirrored, oliver inching closer, a head cocked to the side with intrigue. ‘ you’re not very subtle, handsome. but … i’ll let it slide. name’s oliver. don’t get too excited, though, s’not my real name. ’ she pauses, gaze dropping to the drink between them. she might as well take it for herself but she doesn’t. not yet, at least. ‘ i reckon you like being told what to do, big guy. but like all men … ya gotta hide it behind all kinds of bullshit. you like a lady in charge, don’t ya? ’ 

          He hated this situation more than he cared to admit. Some people were just beyond irritating. For some reason, she just rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it wasn’t her real name, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t find the truth somewhere in her words. She’d eventually give something away, all criminals did. His father had told him everything when they’d watched their mother get carted off in a police car. “I’m not handsome, you take that back.” He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. “Oh? You’ll let something real slip at some point. All girls are foolish.” He truly believed that sentence. “I don’t like being told what to do. And if someone does tell me what to do, it wouldn’t be a lady. Not that I think you’re a lady of any sorts, but I don’t like women.” 

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joel. 

     he doesn’t have to think twice about accepting the drink, and by the time gleb has finished his inquiry, joel’s glass is already half empty. half full, depending on how you see it. as a borderline alcoholic, however, joel tended to view it as the former. ‘ with that stick up your ass? hell no! ’ he begins, shaking his head, a voice a bit too loud for the occasion, earning him a few looks his way. a couple dirty ones, though those have the least effect of them all. still, a voice is lowered. pretentious assholes. ‘ come on, man … gotta learn how ‘ta let it loose. have a little fun. you have that back in … siberia, huh? F-U-N. ’

          These types of social situations were really stressful for him because he didn’t like to be around people. He finished drinking his second drink, so at least he wasn’t feeling as terrible as he normally did at these events. “I can seduce someone easily. I have charm.” He didn’t even look around when everyone gave the two of them looks. Everyone here was way too uptight for even Gleb. These were the types of events his father had always attended, though how he managed to get invitations to them was a mystery. “I’m from America, you asshole. I was born in Los Angeles.” He didn’t consider himself Russian, despite the name and close ties to the country. “I know how to have fun. We had fun the other night didn’t we?” 

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oliver.

     his threat doesn’t go unnoticed. but neither is it taken seriously. a roll of dark eyes, a scoff following. after a lifetime’s worth of criminal activities, one lose any sense of danger. not that she’d find it within this conversation, regardless. ‘ you’d be pretty naive ‘ta believe the police can do anything ‘bout a stolen car without a time or a place … ’ she begins, a southern twang slipping out with each syllable. ‘ not to mention, really think i’m dumb enough to keep the license plate? hell, the owner would be lucky ‘ta even recognise that thing. ’ she laughs, pushing the older’s glass towards himself. ‘ drink up. nobody likes a drag. ’

          As much as he didn’t want to admit it, he knew she was right. Without so much as a drop of information, the police couldn’t do anything. The police were useless and he could do some digging on his own. “What’s your name?” he asked, leaning forward on the bar as if he was suddenly interested in the stories she was telling. It could be little more than the tales of a drunk fool, but he wanted to know now. “You’re right. I forgot, all criminals are smart enough to know how to pin their crimes on others and get away with things.” Maybe not all criminals, but at least some of them were. “Don’t tell me what to do,” he replied to her statement. “I’m not a drag.” Gleb just knew the type of person he was and didn’t like for others to tell him what he was supposed to do or say in a situation. Even if he was at a bar, he didn’t want to drink. 

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alessia.

@temporaryrhymes / gleb & alessia. 

She hadn’t meant to be an asshole about it, not really. But sometimes: sometimes, you had to push a few buttons to get what you wanted. What she wanted — that was the tricky part. A spot as a recurring writer for the gazette, she didn’t ask for much. Not necessarily front page, not necessarily top bitch of literature & all things written. Just consistency. And maybe, just maybe, she’d written a semi-threatening note and left it on Gleb’s desk. Not really threatening, he wouldn’t be in fear for his life or anything. That was a spot to draw the line. But there, in her gentle, swooping cursive: QUIT YOUR JOB! She moved by his desk, eyes flickering to yellow sticky note, coffee wafting from the mug in her hand. “ What’s that? ” She asked, plucking it out of his hands. She knew that often murderers tried to involve themselves in cases, helping to find their victims or solve the crimes. She figured, on a more innocent scale, it might actually work. 

          Writing was one of the only things that kept Gleb sane half the time. When things in his life seemed to be going to shit, at least he had the paper. His uncle had suggested it at first -- apparently writing was a trait in their family, but Gleb didn’t know his mother as anything other than a waitress. And he’d always known he’d gotten his nosy side from his uncle, who had been a private detective. When he’d come in this morning and seen the note on his desk, he’d almost laughed, but then thought better of it. Someone was going to have to try a lot harder if they wanted to get rid of him. He stared at the note a moment before, he barely noticed when someone starter hovering near his desk until he heard a voice. “Someone trying to play a practical joke on me, I suppose.” Everyone else in the room seemed preoccupied on their own stories. “The offices jokes around here are hardly ever funny.” As he turned to talk to Alessia, he scowled at someone that passed by. “You haven’t seen anyone hovering near here have you?” 

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emerson.

Dot’s words made Emerson smile, even bringing a tinge of pink to her cheeks. “I’m hardly one of the best people. And I’m sure you could come up with plenty of fun things to do with or without me.” From her stories, Dot definitely seemed to be one of the most interesting people in town… if not one of the most interesting people that she could think of. “Right? It gets too quiet for me. I love being surrounded by books, but having everyone be so quiet… it gets unnerving sometimes.” Dot’s grin made Emerson grin, too. “Classic. You’d think he was friends with half the town with how many people he hangs out with. – The bookstore? Why not? Obviously I don’t spend half as much time reading as I should.”

          “Well it’s my opinion and you can’t change it,” she replied, a smile on her face. There weren’t a lot of people in this town that Dot even felt a fraction of respect for. Half the time she just stuck around the same few people because she would rather be around her family. Dot really hoped that once she finished college, she would get out of here, though she didn’t want to leave her family. “But I doubt that. I’d probably just go home and read something. Or bother my brother.” Neither of those seemed as fun as hanging out with someone. Dot really liked Emerson. “Yeah, exactly. I get tired of it being so quiet. It’s always quiet here too.” In general, this town was kind of quiet compared to places like New York. “Or... I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter what we do. I have no good ideas. I’m game for just walking around doing nothing.”