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[alice--pallas]

Alice's work day had been surprisingly light and she'd found herself with a few hours to kill before it was time to pick Rhea up from daycare. Wanting to take advantage of the opportunity, she headed down to the underground mall to try and pick up some more outfits for work. She'd been craving something new and figured she might as well take advantage of any sales that might be happening. However, the store that she ended up in didn't exactly have office clothes--they were more boho and eccentric, but she couldn't help but be drawn to them. She was trying to decide if a certain maxi dress was really worth $30 when she overhead the woman at the other end of the rack. Though she knew she should just mind her business, she couldn't help but chirp up and say "Or you could wear them on a Greek island for a Mamma Mia! look. I've been saving my own pair of overalls for that very moment--besides, they're also shockingly super comfy." Having been born in Greece herself, Alice had only been back one time to meet her Greek family--it had been during that trip that she'd found out she was pregnant with her daughter, Rhea. Though she'd been there once before, she dreamed of going back one day. Who knows? Maybe she and Rhea would have their own Mamma Mia! moment. After all, Alice was waiting for the day when her daughter asked about who exactly her father was.

where : a clothing shop in the down the rabbit hole underground mall when : mid april cap : 0/5

THE LACK OF ONLINE SHOPPING WAS FINALLY taking its toll on Zeliha. Considering their large walk-in closet that was filled to the brim with costly items, it had taken them a fair amount of time to actually get bored with all the pieces they owned, but it had finally gotten to that point. A trek to the mall would have usually been foreign to the amateur sleuth, who had a bias against the selection offered and the idea that of owning clothing that was sold in bulk in a mid-sized town--any chance at all of wearing the same thing as another person was a nightmare. Zeliha had no interest in being apart of a local US Weekly Who Wore It Better situation. However, their mission to shop was not going very well as practically every piece of clothing had them turning their nose up in disgust. "Ugh, overalls? Where would anyone possibly wear those, to the set of Saved by the Bell? Is there just one store in this place that is worth spending money at?"

[alice--pallas]

Alice's eyes followed to where the woman pointed to, noticing the delicate and intricate spiderweb that lie within the bushes. She had to admit, not even she herself, the journalist, was observant enough to notice something like a spiderweb nestled in a brush. She admired that kind of attention to detail. The woman was quite eccentric and the brunette appreciated that about her. After all, not many people would insist on lying outside as they tried to get the perfect drawing of a spiderweb. It's not that the weather was bad, per se, it was just windy as fuck. Looking down at what she'd drawn so far, Alice smiled and said "That's beautiful." She wasn't sure if the stranger would agree with her but considering that Alice could barely draw a stick figure, she admired anyone that could replicate the world around them via pencil. She could do that with writing, sure, but visual art just wasn't the same. It isn't here now, so if you're afraid of them, don't worry. "Spiders don't really scare me. Really, it's bugs that fly...and sting...that kind of freak me out."

A loud sigh of relief escapes Isra's mouth as she sits back on her haunches, neatly folding her legs beneath her. The last thing she wanted was to have this damned blanket below her blow away in the breeze alongside the pencil. Thankfully, her bag on one corner and her shoes on the other made for decent enough weights. She wordlessly accepts the pencil, slipping it back between her fingers as she readies to draw once more, only to stop at her question. Isra rolls the wood between her fingers before tucking it snug behind her ear. She smooths the page down, making sure her fingers don't smudge the graphite shading at all. "This," she angles her elbow over to the cluster of bushes that were still green and flourishing despite the cold. A spiderweb sat nestled between the branches, intricate and wide, spanning a foot across in width. Nothing was in it at present, which was only marginally disappointing. Her drawing of it was... decent, though part of her longed to figure out how the hell she was supposed to draw leaves on a bush without pulling her hair out. "I've been watching this spider make it for a few weeks now. It isn't here now, so if you're afraid of them, don't worry." She says this with a hint of a smirk. It was a damned spider, after all. What was there to be afraid of?

[alice--pallas]

In response to his question, she gave a small smile and a nod. "Uh, yeah, I used to ice skate competitively when I was younger. I was never a big contact sports gal," she said with a soft chuckle. Honestly, it'd been a while since she'd been at the rink and she really needed to go back. Though she of course didn't skate competitively anymore, she still loved to skate recreationally. It helped her clear her mind whenever things started to get a bit clouded. Looking over at her drink, she shook her head and said "Uh, no, I got a caramel latte. I'm not really a cappuccino person--too airy for me." After all, cappuccinos were just espresso with a fuckton of foam on top--there was practically nothing too them. Though she really didn't trust Benny, there was a part of her that felt a little bit intrigued by him. After all, she knew that her brother didn't care for him but he'd never told her the specific reasons as to exactly why he disliked them man. Sure, she figured it had something to do with Stella but naturally, the brunette was insatiably curious for details.

Benny frowned. If anything, he expected judgement from people, maybe not for who he was - though that was a big part of it - but also for what he did and how he did it. He went through his hunches, picked up the cup, and dropped it in the bin overhead, then got up to his two feet again.”You did any other sports then?” he asked, as he attempted to be friendly. That was the least he could do for receiving no judgement - or scolding. Though he’d picked it up neatly. He rolled his shoulders. The craving for something to settle his vices was still there, despite the espresso. He gave her a once over, but couldn’t place the face directly. He very much figured anyone was his enemy, so it really didn’t mean much if he attempted to establish whether he’d personally hurt someone or not. 

He neared her seat and looked over at her drink. “What’re you having?” he asked, as he considered going back to get something else. “Cappuccino?”

[alice--pallas]

Letting out a small chuckle, she said "Well, who am I kidding? I do the exact same thing, too." She certainly wasn't judging Bernie--anyone who knew Alice knew that if you got her on the right topic, she could talk forever. Alice laughed when her friend cocked a skeptical brow, unconvinced by her seemingly sudden love for the occult--which wasn't entirely true. Though the mother wasn't going to be laying out crystals anytime soon, the idea of it all intrigued her--almost as if she'd considered practicing before but ultimately realized that it was just too much work for her. "Hey, it's not like it totally came out of nowhere. I used to have this friend, Aurelia--they were a witch, like, for real. Psychic and everything. They kind of peaked my interest--but you're right. Crystals are too expensive--if I got into all that, I'd go bankrupt faster than you could snap your fingers." If you're heading down a rabbit hole, you'll need your nervous White Rabbit companion. Now tell me: where's your hunch leading us? Alice couldn't help but smile at Bernadette's words, appreciative for her discretion, as well as for her willingness to play along and be her White Rabbit companion. "Okay, so... This is gonna' sound silly, but...about two months ago, there was an uptick in grave robbing--and the word is that it wasn't just jewelry they were stealing from the dead, if you know what I mean..." she said with a savvy look. "Some people thought it was for black market purposes but what if it was for something...darker? Like... I don't know, necromancy or some shit? Now, don't me wrong, I'm not saying that these people, whoever they are, are actually bringing the dead back to life--I'm not silly. But... What if they think they can? I mean... Shit, if I could find a list of must-have items for a necromancy spell, we could go to the metaphysical shops in the area and see if there's been any purchases like that. I know it'd be a lot of work, but... I feel like it might be worth it. Because I feel like the grave robbing might be a part of something bigger." Honestly, Alice wouldn't have blamed Bernie if she had just laughed in her face right then and there but she was hoping that her kin would see that she was serious. Weird shit had been going on in Anchorage for years and Alice couldn't help but be intrigued by all of it.

You just don't know how to stop rambling, do you? Letting out a soft, good-natured laugh at her own expense, a hand coming up to her mouth to stop the sound from reverberating through the quiet establishment, Bernadette shook her head. "Not really. You know me. Once I get started, it's sort of hard to stop," she admitted, an easy character flaw to own up to when she was in the company of someone that understood how she operated. There was no judgment in Alice's tone, and for that, Bernie was grateful. It was a lifelong struggle for her, finding people that she didn't feel the need to perform for, and she was more than happy to have found that in the members of her extended family. Thanks to how close the two were, she felt comfortable enough to raise a skeptical brow at the reporter, not fully believing her claims that the book she plucked from the shelf was purely chosen to satiate her personal curiosities. "Really? Since when are you interested in witchcraft?" she pushed back, a satisfied smirk appearing on her lips when Alice readily admitted to the truth. "See, you're not the only one here with investigative instincts," the illustrator teased, though they both knew well enough by now that picking up on subtleties had never been Bernadette's strong suit—she did much better with straightforward facts than anything with the potential for ambiguity. Chuckling at the unintentional joke, the brunette smiled warmly at her friend, straightening primly to her full height with a newfound burst of confidence. "Don't worry, I won't rat you out to the boss. But if you're heading down a rabbit hole, you'll need your nervous White Rabbit companion. Now tell me: where's your hunch leading us?"

[alice--pallas]

You're Alice! I'm Love! For a brief moment, Alice felt very confused. This woman clearly recognized her, though the brunette obviously didn't have the same feeling of familiarity. However, a moment later, she mentioned Cy and it all started to click into place. For a brief moment, when the blonde said she was an old friend of her brother's, she felt oddly skeptical, as she'd never heard Love's names before--then she was humbled with the memory that Alice had only come into her siblings' lives less than ten years ago. Of course Cy had friends all over. Bringing a smile to her face, she said "It's so nice to meet you, Love. How do you know Cy?" Nodding, she said "Yeah, I'm a journalist at the Daily Diem." Alice did appreciate how open and welcoming she was, especially considering that they didn't even really know each other. Letting out a light chuckle, she said "Uh, nothing too crazy lately, just a series of burglaries." However, the moment she said it, the burglary that had taken place at her twin's home instantly came to mind. Looking down at her basket, she smiled and said "Oh, thank you so much. I really love the full coverage of Estee Lauder--it helps hide my dark circles."

"oh, you're alice!" recognition dawns as the escort's ears catch the familiar surname shared with cyrek, though the familial connection had eluded her in her typically one-track mind. "i'm love!" without hesitation, she eschews the customary handshake, opting instead for an immediate embrace, a gesture as warm and welcoming as her namesake. "cyrek's mentioned you a few times! he's an old friend of mine," she adds with a fond smile, her affection for him evident in her words. despite his internal struggles and the weight of his personal demons, 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 sees in cyrek a soul deserving of love and support, and she's determined to rally his army of sisters to remind him of his inherent grace and beauty. “i hope we can be friends too! it's wonderful to finally put a face to those mental images. you're one of the journalists, aren't you?" she casts a discerning eye over the basket, appreciating the thoughtfulness of its contents. "so, what kind of articles have you been delving into lately? or is it all hush-hush?" her playful inquiry carries a hint of genuine curiosity, eager to engage in some lighthearted banter. "and that foundation you've chosen? absolute favorite of mine. you've got impeccable taste, if you ask me."

[alice--pallas]

Alice gave a soft smile as she watched her twin give his niece a smile and place his hat on her head. When he did this, Rhea squealed with excitement and walked back over to Alice to show off what had just been given to her. God, she was so precious. Keeping Rhea at her side, not wanting her to run off and get into something that she shouldn't, she frowned when he mentioned the break in. Idiot, she thought to herself. She should've called him instead of just texted, not even thinking about how it might freak him out to have someone else in his apartment unannounced. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "I should've called you instead of just texted, that was my bad." The last thing she wanted was to give him even more to worry about. When her brother mentioned not doubling up on caffeine, she gave a slight chuckle, knowing that he was probably right. It was no secret that Alice loved her caffeine and on any given day, if it was past 10AM, one could assume that the journalist had already had at least two cups of coffee. Smiling and nodding, she said "That's probably wise... Alright, hibiscus it is then."

Sitting down to join her brother at the table, she pulled Rhea up onto her lap and gently bounced her knee as she ate the sweet treat, hoping to keep the almost-four-year-old entertained. Luckily, Rhea had, for the most part, always been easy to settle and only truly got fussy when she was in need of a nap. Letting out a soft laugh, she said "When are you and Micah headed back to France?" She wasn't surprised to hear that he was tired of the town of Anchorage. After all, she couldn't imagine a world where Alaska was more interesting than the French Riviera or Paris. Chuckling, she shrugged and said "What can I say? I enjoy our talks. Besides, no one else is as philosophical as you are." Biting into her pastry, she smiled and said "You guys always have the best sweets, I swear."

Everything that encapsulated his presence was drastically altered in the presence of the handful of people in the universe that Atticus was comforted by. His gait, too, conveyed less than a venerable king and swayed toward his authentic self, haunted by the ghouls that gyred around his conscious. He was awkward in everyday life, and yet, he allowed himself impuissance around the close-knit circle of his. Nonetheless, he made the effort to bid Rhea a smile, removing his hat and steadying it on her smaller noggin, and sending her away to her mother promptly when Alice moved toward him. The exchange was heartfelt, if fleeting, and more than what he would have had the heart to engage with the exhausting brood of Cyrek's. ( Thankfully, Rhea was relatively well-mannered. Several children of his elder brother's had been a nightmare rearing snake heads. ) "It's alright. I am... ah, on edge. Since the... burglary." Of course, the law had been no help in locating the culprit. Or his portrait of Micah... unnervingly. Holding his hands in front of him, grey eyes ticked upward toward the ceiling, a full face of foundation and concealer paired with a smoky eyeshadow creating a stormy brew. "I think herbal would be more relaxing... let's not double up on the caffeine."

Pulling a chair out from the dining table, he took a seat, pushing his dark curls behind his ears and glanced away from the centerpiece; the subtlety had formed in youth to assure that there was nothing amiss, at any given moment. It was one of the many unfortunate qualities that the twins shared, cultivating a fictional world involuntarily as a protective shell from their sorrows. Absently, his eyes were drawn to the more energetic figure betwixt the trio — her daughter. It was a fever dream, almost — that she was a mother now. Lucidity frequently dropped him off the cliff-face, but the tumult of her separation and subsequent divorce had been surmountable enough to engrave itself in Atticus' mind. Seeing the brunette encumbered in the secrecies that would be exposed at twists and turns of their relationship, it was an unsung serenity to observe her as a devoted single mother. "Tired of Anchorage," the dejected response was forthright, if nothing else, "Has it been so long?" The corner of his mouth quirked, amusement inspired from her words. "Terrible. How have we survived?" A cocky tilt of his head concluded his dry humor, plucking the last cinnamon bun from the pastry dish and hovering it above a napkin as he bit into the sweet confection.

[alice--pallas]

Alice, ever the vigilant and observant writer, noticed that the young woman seemed...maybe a bit worried or upset about what had happened. Besides, who knows? Even though the spill wasn't that big of a deal, maybe she was already having a bad day and this was about to be the straw that broke the camel's back. The last thing the brunette wanted was for someone else to be upset. Continuing to pick up the pencils, she said "Hey, it's no big deal, though--this isn't the first clean-up-on-aisle-eyebrow-pencil and I highly doubt it'll be the last." Giving a small chuckle when the blonde mentioned how annoyed the employee looked, Alice shrugged and said "Hey, it was an honest accident. If anything, we just made their day a whole lot more interesting--and hopefully it's not too much trouble to set it back up." Don't get Alice wrong, she never wanted to cause any trouble for anyone but there was also no use in crying over something that was nothing more than a mistake. When the woman asked her name, she gave a polite smile and said "Uh, I'm Alice. Alice Pallas. And you are?" Even though it rhymed in an almost comical manner, 'Pallas' was Alice's favorite last name to date. Born Aliki Pallas, her father was quick to give her his last name when he brought her back to the states, on top of Americanizing her name. She'd been Alice Griffin for the majority of her life--until she spent a brief stint being Alice Elliot, loving and doting wife to Alec. After that chapter of her life ended, she decided to take on her original Greek family name, Pallas and she quite liked how her name flowed. Besides, it was a hell of a sign off as a journalist, too. Looking down at her small basket, she said "Oh, just picking up some more foundation, I'm almost out. How about you?"

ever the empathetic soul, she endeavors to assist in any capacity she can, her slender fingers delicately retrieving scattered pencils from the ground, their movement akin to a symphony of tiny melodies echoing through the air and reverberating on plastic caps. yet, despite her best efforts, her countenance betrays a subtle undercurrent of chagrin and contrition, manifesting in the weighted expressions that tug at the corners of her lips, forming a melancholic downward curve. "i suppose it could be worse..." her words, tinged with self-reflection, are accompanied with fingernails scratching behind her ear, a telltale sign of her discomfort with the unfolding situation.

brows furrow with a touch of concern as she considers the evident annoyance etched upon the face of the worker behind the counter. yet, even in the face of potential repercussions, she finds solace in the fact that no irreparable damage has been wrought. "they looked really annoyed with us, but at least we didn’t break anything." 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 muses, her lips forming a thoughtful pout as she weighs the implications of their actions. "and it’s not like I wouldn’t pay for the damages, I know this place is worth it, but thanks for being a team player," she adds with a nervous chuckle, her demeanor mirroring that of a child cautiously navigating the complexities of forging new friendships on the playground. a fleeting shadow of self-awareness crosses the escort's features as she acknowledges the frostiness that often pervades interpersonal interactions during the inclement weather climate of anchorage, recognizing her own status as an acquired taste in the eyes of many. yet, amidst the frosty chill of societal detachment, she discerns a glimmer of recognition in the features of her companion, a sense of familiarity that stirs within her depths. "what’s your name, by the way, and what are you getting?"

[alice--pallas]

"it would've been sweet if it could've been me. in my defense, i have none for digging up the grave another time but it would've been fun if you would've been the one..."

the 1

[alice--pallas]

Alice had just dropped Rhea off at preschool and she had decided to stop into her favorite coffee shop to get some work done. Although she was currently chasing a story (that her boss of course didn't know about yet), she also needed to finish a piece on a string of robberies that had happened just the other week. After grabbing her latte and bringing it back to her seat where her laptop was waiting for her, her eyes settled upon a familiar face--Benny. Though she didn't really know him personally, she knew that he was Stella's ex and that her brother wasn't too fond of him. Between that and his bad boy persona, Alice made a mental note to try and mind her own business.

However, she couldn't help but watch as he tossed his paper cup into the trash, missed, and then stood there for a little too long just staring at it before he mumbled something to himself and retrieved it. Alice silently chuckled to herself, having just watched him try to decide whether it was worth picking up the cup or not. However, he caught her staring, which made her realize how obvious she'd been. Fuck. Giving him a polite smile, she said "Hey, no judgement here. I couldn't play soccer or basketball if I tried so I'm not throwing any stones."

OPEN STARTER @anchoragestarters ( unlimited )

Two months or so had passed since Benny had learnt he was basically a bastard - hadn’t been a surprise then, certainly felt like a joke now. He’d gotten the address and contact info of the fucker who his mom cheated with, but had managed to perfectly ignore that impending disaster.

Instead he remained, as ever, doing a shit job attempting to righten his very bad image. Which included trying to be nicer to people and not doing as much booze and drugs. He’d even stopped buying cigarettes. Fine… for the past three days. Worst of all: he’d attempted to sleep around less. Which led to why he was feeling exceptionally cranky today. He worried he was some kind of sex-addict. 

He threw back the double espresso and threw the cup towards the trashcan. It hit the side and fell to the side. He stared at it for a long time.

“Don’t be an ass,” he told himself with gritting teeth and walked over to pick it up again. Couldn’t help noticing a set of eyes staring as well. He wanted to say something rude or obscene, but instead uttered: “Played soccer, not basketball, my throwing skills are shit.” 

[alice--pallas]

Alice found herself wandering around Blood for Beauty in search of a new foundation. The brunette certainly didn't wear as much makeup as she used to--when she'd been younger with more to prove, she'd adorned her eyes in thick black winged liner and heavy mascara and sometimes a bright pop of teal on her waterline. However, these days, she'd traded that in for some simple foundation, blush, and a dark brown mascara, only pulling out more dramatic makeup for special occasions. She was busy reading the back of a foundation bottle and studying the ingredients when she collided with the young woman and the eyebrow pencils came tumbling down. Oh, fuck, the journalist thought to herself. When she came to the girl's aid, she was surprised when she tried to shoo Alice away, insisting that she had to clean up on her own. Alice felt a slight irritation, but it was probably because that's something that she would've done herself years ago, insisting that she handle the mess all on her own, shunning anyone else's help--perhaps it wasn't that deep but maybe it was. Kneeling down and ignoring her insistence, Alice started gathering up eyebrow pencils, very aware that an employee was now coming over with a face of disdain. "You're fine, you don't have to apologize. Let's just get this up before that girl gets over here." Standing up to meet that disgruntled employee, she said "So sorry about that, that was our mistake. I assume you want these here?" Alice dropped the pencils she'd picked up on the table that the display had originally sat on while the employee just grimaced and nodded. Once the mess was up, Alice said to the young woman "Sorry about that, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going--are you alright?"

#𝙾𝙿𝙴𝙽 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁

who: workers, or other strangers shopping  where: blood for beauty cosmetics when: unspecified

it was foul, just how addicting it could be. a vice that clutches at the very throat with its insidious allure—blood for beauty cosmetics, a treasure that ensnares the unwary traveler in its crimson embrace. she curses the infamous owners for her costly indulgences, her coffee fund depleted in the pursuit of ephemeral beauty. yet amidst the treasure trove of high-end luxuries nestled within her bag—lotte london, ysl, anua—none could hold a candle to the allure of the b4b primer. paired with her beloved b4b highlight palette, it bestowed upon her visage an ethereal glow that surpassed the bounds of mortal comprehension. her basket brimmed with tantalizing samples and glistening nail polishes, a treasure trove of delights from the tiny shop that held her heart captive. she’d missed it so much- these little shopping sprees in anchorage.

enraptured by the opulence that surrounded her, she bounds forth with an exuberance befitting a maiden in a fairy tale, only to collide with another soul on this journey of self-discovery. with a startled cry, 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 recoils, her movements a delicate ballet of grace and poise, yet the display of eyebrow pencils is sent tumbling to the ground in her wake—splintered fragments of desire scattered upon the polished floor. "oh, for fucks sake, spare me this humiliation," she laments, her basket dangling precariously from her arm as she surveys the wreckage before her. “no ! don’t you dare help me. this is my mess, I’m cleaning it up!” with a heavy heart, she sinks to her knees, deft fingers sweeping up the fallen pencils with a reverence reserved for lost treasures. “i beg your pardon for my clumsiness," she murmurs, her gaze lingering upon the fallen stranger, a silent plea for forgiveness etched upon her features. yet, even in the midst of chaos, she cannot resist the giggles ensuing. “truly, this isn’t even the first accident of the day," she confesses, a wistful smile gracing her lips as she seeks to lighten the mood.

[alice--pallas]

Alice had just spent the past four hours tracking down a lead that inevitably lead to nowhere and she was feeling more than a little frustrated, not to mention a bit flustered. Therefore, she wasn't really paying attention to the hustle and bustle of the crowd until she felt a crunch under her boot. Looking down, she saw a really nice looking pair of sunglasses that were now basically destroyed. "Oh, shit," she said under her breath, looking up to see whose they were--and it didn't take long because she saw a young man looking pretty distressed at the sunglasses' demise. You just stepped on them? Her first instinct was to say that they were just sunglasses but they were clearly more important to him than that. He sounded defeated and it instantly filled Alice with guilt, even though it had been an honest accident and she didn't even know this guy. "Shit, I'm so sorry," she said, trying to pick up the remnants of the glasses, as if she could do anything with them. "I can... I can buy you new ones, I'll pay for 'em--just let me know how much I owe you," she said, about to go digging in her purse for her wallet.

WHERE: busy street, anywhere with a lot of footfall WHEN: noon-ish (no specific date, just current) WHO: anyone! ( @anchoragestarters ) CAP: 0/4 (may extend it if i feel like it!)

Min wasn't trying to make a whole trip out of coming here. In fact, he'd only come to this part of town to pick something up for his cousin (who'd argued that, if Min was going to act like their car belonged to him, he might as well do something 'useful' with it) and he was quite intent on grabbing what he needed and getting back out just as quickly. As he strode out of the parking lot and rounded the corner onto the sidewalk, he removed the sunglasses he'd been wearing and moved to put them in his pocket; they were designer, a second-hand throwaway given to him by Tomo and maybe the most expensive accessory he owned. He used them for driving, mostly, because the glaring white of a cloudy morning sky tended to irritate his eyes. Min had always been a little clumsy, enough that he fumbled and dropped the glasses as he moved to put them in his pocket. Frantic eyes scanned the street, busy with people coming to and fro, headed for the various shops that lined the roads, their location not immediately obvious to him. When he did catch sight of them, it was just a moment too late.

"Wait a mi--" CRUNCH. That was the sound of the shades being crushed under the weight of another person's foot. Even from where he stood, he could see that the lens were cracked beyond repair and the frames had twisted and warped. He could swear he felt his organs deflate. "You stepped on them," said Min, his voice sounding miles away. And then, muttering to himself, he added "I mean, of course you did. What else was going to happen? Middle of a busy fucking street, my own bloody fault but---" He looked back at them, voice raised to a normal volume once more. He tried to laugh it off, not wanting to look too much like he was on the verge of losing it, but there was a discomfort behind the laughter that was difficult to ignore. "You just stepped on them?"

[alice--pallas]

Alice had been sitting at her desk at the Daily Diem when she'd received a frantic call from Cy asking if she could run to his trailer to make sure he'd turned the stove off. Though she'd wanted to try to help him calm down first, she knew that he wouldn't actually calm down until he was ensured that his trailer was safe and, you know, not on fire. Therefore, she'd rushed to the Kingpin Trailer Park and unlocked the door of the trailer. Once she confirmed that the stove was indeed off, she called her brother as she locked his trailer back up with her spare key. "Yeah, nothing was on, you're all good--dude, don't worry about it, it's fine. Besides, it's time for my lunch break anyways. Talk to you later. Love ya', bye." As she walked back to her car, a stray pencil rolled towards her. She stopped it with her foot, picked it up, and only then saw the direction in which the pencil had come from. "Sure," she said with a small smirk, walking over to the woman and handing the pencil back to her. The wind has been fighting me over it. Alice almost asked why she was so insistent on drawing outside in the first place but she assumed it was probably because the woman was stubborn, a trait that the brunette also shared. Her intrigue getting the better of her, couldn't help but ask "What are you drawing?"

[ kingpin trailer park early afternoon, beginning of april closed starter for @alice--pallas ]

It was so rare that Isra got a free afternoon where the weather wasn't abysmal that it didn't even matter that it was still technically cold, she was going to sit outside and get some sort of sun while she still could, damn it. Even if it did mean her end result was having to sit bundled up on a spread out towel in front of her trailer home, sketchpad and paper clutched so close to her person in an attempt to stop the wind from blowing them away from her. It was nigh impossible to try and draw anything, but she continued to out of pure spite for the cold. She lowered the pad to her lap and folded her legs beneath her neatly, looking over the loose sketch of a spiderweb that sat in the bush just beside her. Isra's eyes flicked between the physical web and the one drawn in graphite several times before she lowered the tip of the pencil down again.

A particularly strong gust burst through the maze of mobile homes and made her jerk, her grip on the pencil loosening just enough for it to slip out of her hand. Despite her quick floundering attempts to grab for it, and in turn her sketch pad as it too dropped from her grasp, the brightly colored pencil rolled off the towel and down the patch of grass. Isra let out a sound of annoyance, lurching forward onto her hands and knees with every intent to simply crawl over and grab it, until the pencil came to a stop at the foot of someone. She blinked, looking up toward them without moving. "Pardon," she said with a flat tone after enough seconds had passed. "Could you grab that for me? The wind has been fighting me over it."

[alice--pallas]

Alice chuckled and playfully rolled her eyes as she stepped in to her brother's abode. "Too late now," she smirked, finding the idea itself very funny. If she ever did need childcare so she could go have fun with someone, she'd be honest about it. Besides, Cy would probably be grateful to hear that she found someone to sneak off with, whenever she did finally find someone, as he'd seemed so worried about her being alone for so long. As she watched Rhea run off to play with her cousins, the brunette laughed at his vague threat about the chicken. She doubted that he'd ever actually do it, as his wife loved the dumb little bird and she could only assume the kids had gotten quite accustomed to it as well. Still, it reminded her of the little chicken from Moana, Hei Hei--so brainless that it had no instinct of self-preservation. Part of her wished that that wasn't the first thought that popped into her brain but her three-year-old adored Disney princess movies so that was now a majority of what Alice watched.

I think the Mary Jane's keeping me sane. Alice chuckled and said "Hey, that might make a good lyric someday." She was only kidding--sure, Alice could write well when it came to being informative but she couldn't write poetry for shit. However, Cy seemed to have a gift for speaking words onto a page that described feelings better than she ever could--she could hear it every time she listened to his band's music. Still, aside from the joke, his words concerned her a bit. She nodded when he mentioned barely having any time away from the job, thankful that she had been lucky enough to catch him on a rare day off. He and Evren truly did work harder than most other people that she knew. There's a fuckton on my mind. His words sparked her curiosity, wondering what exactly had been weighing so heavily on his mind lately. Perhaps she could be a sounding board for him if nothing else. Nodding, she said "Believe me, I try to sleep in on my days off but Rhea doesn't let me. She's got more energy than I know what to fucking do with. Staying in bed is unfortunately not an option." Though of course, she wouldn't have it any other way. Taking a sip of her own coffee, she said "Care to share what's been weighing on your brain?" She figured the least she could do was ask--it was up to him if he wanted to share or not but she was here to listen if he was willing.

"Well, fuck, I shouldn't 'ave put the idea in your head," the Mancunian punk deadpanned as she and her offspring slipped through the door, mock disappointment dramatized by the swing of his arm audibly slapping against the side of his leg. The door slammed shut, and he caressed the coffee cup against his lips, shrugging nonchalantly. There were an abundance of times he'd made up similar excuses to run around with Evren unabashed — it got a little boring to do it between shifts at work all the time, as amusing as it was to consistently gross Stella out with his after-hours at the Milk Bar. Others would have labeled Cyrek an eccentric sibling at best; he didn't care to censor himself around anyone, with the tender exception of his children ( and to what degree that entailed was dependent upon what would be coming out of his mouth, precisely, ) and his relationship with Alice was unchanged from before they had reveled in their biological tie. He figured it was better that way. Serpentine, mismatched eyes followed the path of the three frolicking kids whisking away to Amaris' and Joelle's shared bedroom, and his hand rested on the fencing of the playpen as he peered to check on the triplets. "I hate that chicken. Swear I'm gonna roast it on a spit as my kids' dinner someday." It wasn't a lie if he continued to deny the soft spot in the back of his heart for anything Evren chose to love.

Sinking into the couch cushions that offered a moderate reprieve to his aching husk, his head rolled back against the cushions, fingers playing piano against the sides of the cup while Alice talked. The diffidence in his shrug suggested he didn't mind, muttering, "Yeah, I think the Mary Jane's keepin' me sane." Kicking off the mukluks and letting them scatter across the Nirvana-themed carpeting, he stretched his arm out across the arm of the sofa, abandoning the coffee cup to a coaster nearby. "There's almost no days off." Keeping his hands busy staved off other urges, yet, it seemed like he was gnawing at the bit with no escaping the strangulation of temptation the past few months. Cyrek was harping on grudges that couldn't be resolved by the dead, and the stress lines in Stella's own countenance across the bar in quieter moments regressed a despondency that was timeless. It was a monster that was intermittently dormant, archaic personification of guilt as he asked himself, why did he drag his friends into this, and before that, it should've been me, it should've been me — mantras of self-denigration were a circle-jerk in a running television program that refused to shut off. Nimble fingers curled into a fist where he could rest his head, staring idly at the children's show that AJ was engrossed in, worrying his teeth against his lower lip as he descended into his thoughts. Reminding himself he had company, he turned his head, waving his free hand. "Sorry, there's a fuckton on my mind." The vocalist's other hand fanned out, his chin propping on his knuckles as a headrest, playing with the skull ring weighing down his digits. "You got the day off, too, then? I kinda don't feel like gettin' out of bed on mine."

[alice--pallas]

Spontaneous, huh? "Yeah, something like that," she chuckled, taking in her brother's appearance. Some might use the word disheveled to describe it--though really, it was the unstyled hair that really set the tone. Alice was so used to seeing it straightened and spiky. His visage only had her slightly concerned, though she didn't give her worries away--besides, she was usually silently fretting about Cyrek anyways. It was funny, because though she was the younger one of the two siblings, she couldn't help but be a bit motherly. Perhaps Rhea was to blame but honestly, Alice had been that way long before her own little bundle of joy had come into the world. Still, she usually kept her worries to herself, figuring that her older brother had plenty of his own on any given day. When he mentioned a sneaky link, she couldn't help but laugh out loud. She remembered back to once upon a time when she would've shied away from this kind of conversation, too scorned from her old lovers--one in particular--to ever consider loving again. However, she was thankfully long over that period of mourning. "Dude, I wish," she laughed. "Alas, no, I'm not here to bribe you so I can sneak off with someone--but I'm not above bribery when I do finally find someone to sneak around with so heads up," she joked. In reality, of course, bribery wasn't necessary--the siblings watched each others' kin on a regular basis and they were (usually) happy to do it. Alice and Rhea made their way into the trailer, Alice thinking to herself that Cy should know by now that she didn't really care what the state of the trailer was. Alice's entire house had turned into a toddler's playground and she only had one child to worry about--lord knows she understood the mess.

When the punk addressed the little girl, Rhea giggled and nodded before running off to find her cousin. As she fully stepped into the trailer, the first thing that Alice noticed was the distinct smell of the joint he'd just put out. She hadn't realized he was smoking weed, though it didn't bother her. Besides, she knew that everyone was different. Some people could smoke weed and stay away from the harder stuff. Shit, there were even cases of alcoholics being able to drink moderately after stepping away from it for a while. However, that just wasn't Alice's personal path and that was okay. Honestly, for someone who had trouble with black-and-white thinking, it was almost easier in a way for her to just be stone-cold sober in every sense of the word. Though she tried to stifle it, the brunette couldn't help but chuckle as Cy kicked the cute little chicken out of the trailer temporarily. She really couldn't blame Evren--it was just so damn adorable. Following his lead, she made her way to the couch and took a seat. With a shrug, she chuckled "Well, it's been a while since I've seen you and honestly, I figured I'd have more luck catching you on a day off. I should've given you a heads up but hey, it ended up working out. And I won't stay forever--I just wanted to catch up and then we'll be out of your hair." She understood his busy schedule but if she didn't drop by unexpectedly, who knows when she'd see him next?

Corposant nerve endings ignited the moribund case he'd been living in with the wonted reminders of his former dependencies, fraught anxieties scuttling beneath the damaged floorboards of a decaying physical prison. The thread had been thinner and thinner still in passing weeks, harried thoughts repetitive of Marisol's retelling of her great fucking bullet wound — if the injury weren't insult to his cognizance enough, the idea of an empty coffin in the ground that wasn't his own was. However, the forefront of his mind couldn't be that he was in the driver's seat with steering wheel fluid gushing out of his undercarriage with the kids running up and down the halls of the trailer and two full hampers of laundry on his one day off. The baleful eye of the end of his joint glared down at a pile of unfolded laundry on his bed, folding up Evren's Playboy outfits for the week and the uniform for Milk Bar servers, lulled into the monotone drone of the task in front of him in spite of an overhead disquiet of his dysfunct brain. Pausing at the sound of a knock on the door, the lanky punk leaned backward, peering through the billowy curtains yet to be shuttered with a few thick blankets as Alaska was still transitioning over to endless daytime. Squinting, he made out the figure of his sister standing outside — largely in part of her unruly brunette waves that matched his own head of au natural hair unstyled ( the nearest doppelganger being Stella, which only emphasized the irony they bore no relation except the ties that bound them through their siblings' choices of riding bareback. )

The door opened when he reached it, running his fingers through the stiff, spiky hair and looking to the coffee as she held it out. Cyrek wasn't much good at accepting freebies, family or not; pride sang as ships went under and past haunts were skewed by the sirens chastising from the frigid waters. "Spontaneous, huh?" he echoed her words, quirking his brow, "You're not tryna bribe me with this so you can go play with some sneaky link I dunno 'bout?" One eye winked shut, shuffling back with significant absence of welcome that Count Draculas erstwhile would have, one hand resting over his abdomen and the other at his hip, ever vigilant of whether he was being too blatant as felines feigned ignorance of their own wounds. "It's a right mess in here, mas seja meu convidado..." The waterfall of indifference rolled across his broad shoulders and slipped into oblivion, and the vocalist counted misdemeanors for strewn belongings on ten fingers as the pair entered the cramped, but comfortable, trailer home. "What's up, Ri-ri? Makin' lots of trouble for your mãe like I asked?" he jested, a hand on the toddler's crown turning her to the living room, leaning to the ashtray to put out the joint. A hand wrung through his spikes a second time, lips pursing as he narrowed in on the two-legged feathery menace prancing between the too-small kitchen area and the living room. He opened the door an inch wider, the toe of his mukluk shoving it out the front door and shutting the screen promptly, sticking his pierced tongue out at it through the screen. Turning away, he imbibed from the coffee. "S'not bad. Hope you didn't spend a fortune on it. What brought you?" he asked, circling the sofa and checking under the cushions for stray kids' toys before he sat down.

[alice--pallas]

Alice had always admired how kind Bernadette was. It was a trait that not too many people had these days--and while this certainly was one of Alice's more cynical thoughts, it didn't make it any less true. Bernie was a sweetheart and Alice applauded her goodwill towards others. Giving the stranger a soft smile and as they finally walked away, she let out a soft chuckle and said "You just don't know how to stop rambling, do you?" Of course, Alice only meant the comment in jest--she felt that she and Bernie were now close enough that they could joke with one another. What happened to leaving work at work? Putting on a false ere of seriousness, she said "Who says it's for work? Maybe I'm thinking about becoming a witch." She couldn't pretend, though--it wouldn't do her much good, as she knew Bernie would be able to see right through it anyways. "To be honest, it's just the first one I picked up when I went into rescue mode--but... A little light reading never hurt anyone," she shrugged with a chuckle. To say Alice was devoted to her career was a bit of an understatement--the only thing she was more devoted to than the Diem was her family--luckily, Bernadette happened to fall into both categories. Looking down at the book, she said "I don't even think it's a lead, it's more of a... I don't know, I hunch I guess--but don't let the boss know. They'd kill me if they knew I was going down another rabbit hole." She hadn't even realized the pun until she said it. Scoffing at her own unintentional joke, she said "Alice falling down the rabbit hole again--classic."

At the sight of Alice coming around the corner to break her out of the perpetual stream of apologies falling from her lips, Bernadette felt a palpable wash of relief come over her, grateful that she'd soon be free of trying to make small talk with this unsuspecting stranger. "Oh, Alice—you found me. I was just looking for that!" she rushed to accept the outstretched book without giving it a second look, a reflexive apologetic grin directed at the other patron. "Maybe someone at the front desk can help you find what you're looking for?" she offered feebly to their retreating back, her posture visibly deflating now that she could let the cordial mask slip off. "Thanks. I didn't know how I was going to get out of that one," she remarked, a laugh slipping past her lips when she caught sight of the book's cover for the first time. "Modern Occultism, huh? What happened to leaving work at work?" she teased her co-worker, though she knew from a near lifetime of experience that there was no separating Alice from the things she loved. They had that much in common, and Bernie liked to think it was one of the many reasons they gravitated towards each other throughout their upbringing and even now in adulthood, nevermind the shared connection through their brother. Even without Atti in their lives to tether them to each other, she had a feeling that she would've chosen Alice as a friend and confidant regardless. "You chasing down a lead I don't know about?"

[alice--pallas]

When Bernadette had invited Alice to go search around the library for a good book, the brunette simply couldn't resist. She was always dying to get her hands on a good book (or a few) and it was no surprise when she inevitably found herself searching through the true crime section. Even though it was her day off, work was refusing to leave her brain so instead of trying to fight it, she was embracing it. She was about to jump from the 'true crime' section to the 'occult' section when she heard her friend seemingly talking in circles. This had happened before and Alice knew that she probably need to step in. The brunette felt that Bernie was just a little too polite--at least, too polite to try and tell this person that she didn't actually want to talk to them. Quickly grabbing a random book off the shelf, she found the aisle that Bernie was in and interjected. "Hey, Bernadette, I think I found that book that you were looking for--oh, so sorry to interrupt." The stranger finally walked away and Alice just chuckled. "Apparently, the book you wanted was Modern Occultism."

( the local library, late march, afternoon ) @anchoragestarters

Strolling through towering stacks of books, eyes wandering high above her head as she attempted to take in all of the titles in the history section, Bernadette wasn't searching for anything in particular that afternoon, waiting instead for a book to call out to her, beckoning for her to take it home. Though she'd dropped out of university only a semester into her collegiate journey, the brunette found solace in learning, even if she had to do it on her own. And with her eyes so fixed on the tomes above her, craning her neck to make out the smaller print on faraway spines, it was only a matter of time before she bumped into a fellow patron, lost in her own head. "Oh, I'm so sorry," she blurted with an apologetic chuckle. Blinking back at the figure, the artist felt the compulsion to fill the beat of silence between them, a hard habit she'd yet to break. "I don't work here, if that's what you're thinking," Bernie informed the other patron, plastering on an inviting smile, hoping that her expression didn't betray how viscerally uncomfortable she was with small talk. "I know the cable-knit sweater sort of makes it look like I do, but I'm just browsing," she rambled in an exhale. "I come here a lot, though, so maybe I can point you in the right direction?"

[alice--pallas]

Even though it was still cold outside, Alice wanted to bring a touch of spring to her house so she'd found her way down to the Flower Basket in hopes of finding some prickly roses and maybe some arctic daisies as well. Even if there was snow on the ground, she could still pretend like it was springtime. That wasn't to say, of course, that she wasn't used to this kind of weather. Though closer to the equator, Chicago winters were brutal and they hung around for quite some time as well. Really, it was funny that she was so good at handling the cold at all, given that she'd been born in the Mediterranean and was supposedly made for hotter weather.

She hadn't even spotted her half-sister, Alizka, until she heard her voice. The brunette chuckled, for she wasn't surprised that they had left behind their glasses. Though the two were still getting to know each other, Alice was excited whenever she got to spend time with her siblings. "Hey Alizka," Alice smiled. She would've made a joke about her forgetting her glasses but she wasn't sure if they were on the level just yet and she didn't want to upset them. "Yeah, I think I did some hydrangeas over on that side of the store. I think they've got them in...blue, pink, and purple."

(  @anchoragestarters ) — OPEN ! CAPPED: 0/4 DATE & LOCATION:  MARCH 15ᵀᴴ ↯ THE FLOWER BASKET

       It was early — it was more like 11 o’clock in the morning, actually. She had no means of transportation, so she walked for fresh air. It was needed as they were starting to look like a ghost. Their sleeping schedule was more than screwed up, and they stood inside The Flower Basket. Random, surely, but she had a need to decorate her place with some plants, flowers... or whatever.        “There are way too many to choose from. I think I might go haywire,” Alizka mumbled to herself, and they hoped they wouldn’t become too impatient. They probably should’ve dragged someone along... but they didn’t want to give them the burden of having to come with. “Um. Excuse me, sorry to bother you, but I forgot my glasses at home like the old lady I am - but do you happen to see any hydrangeas around the store?”