ianrossi

[ianrossi]

❛ I APPRECIATE THAT, ❜ Ian replied, ducking his head. One too many hours spent a dinner parties listening to Elizabeth Rossi describe her latest find. At least it was paying off. He glanced back at Addison, noting the passion in her eyes as she spoke. It was refreshing to see someone so invested in their work; he could relate. His interest was piqued by her suggestion, stepping forward to analyze the piece. The colors blended into the canvas in a subtle yet tasteful haze, with the birds adding motion to the tranquil scene. ❛ Charles Voight, huh? I can't say I've heard of him, but this is right up her alley. ❜

❛ So, what made you choose to display this one? Is it the way he captures light, or the choice of subject? ❜ He tilted his head, genuinely curious. He wanted to learn, to understand what made this work worthy of the gallery — and, more importantly, his mother. ❛ I want to say it's because you like the color green, but that doesn't feel too inspired. ❜

Addison was impressed. Most men who came in here who actually were looking for art for someone in their lives barely knew anything. It was akin to pulling teeth. Gaining any insight to the other was a task in itself. But he knew much more than that. "You really know her." Addison smiled at him. If he was looking for a big canvas too than any kind of print was out of the question. He was in the market for only an original piece.

"I hope so. I am proud of the artists I've been able to add to the gallery." Truthfully, it was something she was extremely proud of. Her life had consisted of a lot of events of her being passed over or ignored. Adding artists to the gallery was evidence of her hard work being appreciated. "If she likes impressionist landscapes, I suggest this artist from New Orleans. His name is Charles Voight. Here's one of his recent pieces from his trip to France. The landscape and focus on the tree gives it an almost abstract angle."

[ianrossi]

THE JOY IN HER VOICE PIERCED THROUGH HIS RESOLVE. ❛ Whit, c'mon, ❜ Ian started, trying to keep his voice steady. Her insistence nearly made him laugh, as if the thought of leaving hadn’t even registered. It was the same stubbornness he admired and feared in equal measure. 

He glanced around, taking in the music, laughter, and flashing lights. Wasn't this what he'd asked her to do? Go out and get some air? Next time he would have to be more specific. ❛ It's late, ❜ he tried again, the weight of responsibility bearing on his shoulders. I sound like dad. She was having fun, and therein lay the crux of it.

As he stood there, watching her smile, a part of him wished she could see what he saw—a glimpse of the chaos that could spiral too far, too fast. Maybe he could guide her, and intercede if things got out of hand. Save her before she became him. ❛ Okay, one drink, ❜ he finally relented, reaching for the mostly empty bottle on the table and downing it in one. God, that was awful. He had to meet her where she was – even if meant putting up with bottom-shelf vodka. Then, a grin on his lips, ❛ And no wingmanning me. I can do just fine on my own. ❜

Another night, another event at a club. It had been Whitney's biggest fear a few months ago, to enter an unfamiliar establishment with drunk people. And now she was one of those drunk people, having a little too much fun and giving no fuges about it. A lot had changed since she had decided to embrace this new coping mechanism of alcohol and fun. It was as if the moment she got a little buzzed, none of her worries or the heavy feelings that plagued her when sober mattered much. Like she was floating on a different cloud where those thoughts and feelings could no longer reach her.

Unsure about classes, she had instead dipped her toes back into the social scene of college. Girls she had never spoken to before had become her friends since she had decided to join in on the fun. Keg stands, shots, lots of girly drinks. Anything to increase the fun. Tonight she had been invited out to have a few drinks before a frat party a mile or so away. Since it wasn't that far to drive, she had taken her car and slipped in with her new crowd. They were only half trough the night when she had spotted a few older girls that her brother might like and teasingly sent him some pictures and texts. If she ought to get out and have more of a life, why shouldn't he?

She was almost done with her third cosmo when Ian showed up, looking not too pleased. Despite his words, she beamed. "Ian! You came! No no, join us for a few drinks, please?" she suggested, easily ignoring his statement. Home? No, she was having so much fun and it wasn't even that late yet. "See the brunette over there. Isn't she cute?"

[ianrossi]

❛ I DO, ACTUALLY, ❜ Ian replied, a spark of interest igniting as he turned to face her. ❛ She has this soft spot for impressionist landscapes, especially nightscapes—something about the colors and the way they capture light just speaks to her. The bigger the canvas, the better. ❜ He stepped closer to one of the pieces, his gaze wandering over the brushstrokes as if searching for the perfect match.

He listened to her description, a grin forming. ❛ It sounds like you’ve got a treasure trove of talent in here. Nice to know that I’m supporting homegrown artists while I’m at it. ❜ His enthusiasm was genuine; the idea of finding something unique made the hunt feel less like a chore and more like an adventure. ❛ So, what do you recommend? Any pieces that really stand out? ❜ He leaned in slightly, a hint of playful mischief in his tone. ❛ Or are you going to keep me in suspense and let me figure it out on my own? ❜

Addison perked up. Clearly here was an actual customer who was meaning to buy something. Not a bored pedestrian who was only interested in looking. “Do you know what kind of art your mom likes?” Addison asked. Art, like clothes, were varied in taste for each person. Hopefully he could point her in the right direction. “It is!” She revealed proudly. “We pull artists from New Bellevoux, New Orleans, other towns in Louisiana. And even a few from Texas.” There were even a few artists she had discovered and brought in herself.

[ianrossi]

❛ GHOST OF BURGERS PAST AND PRESENT, if you’re lucky, ❜ Ian shot back, a grin plastered across his face as he plopped the bag of burgers down. ❛ Just to clarify, was it my house or those 'lucky' gym socks from high school? ❜ Of all the people he knew, Brad was one of the least likely to take offense at his ribbing. Decades of friendship had a way of doing that. ❛ Pretending to work? I’m practically a model employee— when I’m not busy making sure you don’t starve to death. Besides, one of the perks of buying a clinic is that I’m my own boss. You should try it sometime. ❜ He tossed a joking wink to one of the women watching their interaction, before returning his attention to his friend.

Ian reached into the plastic bag and dramatically pulled out a heaping, grease-soaked paper bag of fries. ❛ Wouldn't dream of it. They’re the best part.❜ As such, he gently placed them on the table with all due reverence. ❛ Have you teed up yet? I'd hate to have missed your best shot. ❜

As Brad arrived early, something he tended to do, he figured Ian wasnt too far behind. They had known each other for so long at this point they were basically on the same wavelength with timing. But Brad just always arrived early to things anyway. It was something he had instilled in him as a kid by his parents so now as an adult, it just stuck.

He found himself situated in a booth talking to a group of ladies, turning on the charm and wondering if he'd be seeing one of them later that night. Brad turned, a smirk forming as he caught sight of Ian. "Well, well, if it isn’t the ghost of burgers past!" He leaned back seeing the bag of burgers in his friend's hands. "Athlete's foot is a tough battle. You should know, wasn't it your house I was hanging out in before I got it? Thankfully I’ve been treating it with the same diligence I give my patients. How about you? Still pretending to work while I save the world?" He gestured to the table. "You’ve brought the burgers, but I hope you didn’t forget the fries this time. I can’t let you off that easy."

[ianrossi]

❛ LUCKY FOR YOU BOTH, I KNOW AT LEAST FIVE PEOPLE, ❜ he replied, a smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned back, clearly relishing the banter. ❛ I might just have to pull some strings, but give me a month and I’ll have two litters for her to choose from. ❜ Acquiring a practice with an established obstetrics clientele had its perks. ❛ Cause let’s be real—Josie’s been dreaming about kittens longer than all of my relationships combined. ❜ He couldn’t help but picture the chaos a furry little creature would bring, along with the joy it would bring the girl.

❛ I think you mean it’s quieter without me around ❜ he quipped, although the sentiment still drew a half-awkward laugh, his head ducking the way it always did when he was bid a compliment. The change of uprooting his life to the small town still weighed heavily on him, a stark contrast to the city life to which he'd grown accustomed. ❛ An adjustment is putting it mildly. It feels like trying to fit a square peg in a round hole some days, ❜ he admitted, his playful demeanor giving way to a more vulnerable honesty. ❛ But you’re right— I wouldn’t have even considered owning a practice before now.” That was too permanent and fixed for his lifestyle, too taxing concerning day-to-day paperwork, and too underwhelming when it came to surgeries. He had undergone years of training to specialize in orthopedic surgery, an expertise that drew in clients from across the state daily, only to perform basic procedures every month or so. The “better way” was slow to present itself, but he trusted her enough to assume she knew what she was talking about.

It was as though his grin had never fallen when she took the bait on the diner, a hint of challenge dancing in his eyes. ❛ Bring it on, Morris. ❜ And with that, the game was on. Ian took a sip of his beer, ❛ you know what you’re gonna order? I think I’ll get the chef’s special, if you know what I mean. ❜

Grace couldn’t help but laugh at Ian’s teasing, shaking her head as she took a sip from her own glass. "Oh, trust me, you’ll be the first to know when Josie’s ready for a pet. But I’ll warn you, she’s been asking for a kitten since I was pregnant with Frankie," she said, her eyes lighting up with a playful challenge. "So if you know people, you better have some Ragdolls on standby." She leaned back in her chair, nudging him again with a grin. "Enabling? Me? I was just along for the ride," she teased, her voice dripping with mock innocence. "But thank you. I’m trying to juggle everything without dropping too many balls." Grace gave him a knowing look, sensing there was more behind his casual talk of puppies and the clinic. As he shifted in his seat, talking about his return to New Bellevoux, Grace’s expression softened. She knew how life could throw unexpected curveballs, and Ian’s move back after living all over the country was one of them. "I get it. It must be a big adjustment after Denver and Seattle. You had your life mapped out, and then suddenly, you’re back here. But, honestly? I’m glad you are. It’s not the same without you around."

Her voice held a warmth that matched the sincerity of her words. Grace had always appreciated Ian’s company, and she could tell the shift back to small-town life wasn’t as seamless for him as he made it sound. "Sometimes things don’t go the way we expect, but that doesn’t mean they can’t turn out better in ways we never imagined," she added, offering a small smile. At the mention of their old game, Grace laughed again, memories flooding back. "Oh, how could I forget? The infamous diner scenario," she grinned, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all. "But I’ll warn you, I’ve gotten a lot better at keeping a straight face over the years. Mom life will do that to you." She leaned in slightly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "But I’m up for the challenge if you are."

[ianrossi]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @bradleymorrisx 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: birdie

AS THE SUN BEGAN TO DIP BELOW THE HORIZON, casting long shadows across the driving range, Ian strode through the bustling golf center. It had been far too long since he'd had a chance to hang out with Bradley. Between their respective schedules and obligations, life had a way of pulling them in different directions, but tonight would make up for it. He came armed with beers and a smuggled takeout bag from their favorite burger joint — if the staff noticed, they didn't say anything, simply informing him that his party had already arrived.

It wasn't long before he spotted Brad, naturally in his element talking to a group of women in the booth beside theirs. The ever-charming pediatrician, Ian could only imagine the stories he spun – even worse, they were probably all true. A mischievous grin spread across his lips as he came up behind them. ❛ I heard someone was disturbing the peace, ❜ he teased, clapping a hand on the man's back. ❛ How's that athlete's foot going, buddy? It was looking gnarly last week. ❜  

[ianrossi]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @whitneyxrossi 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: komodo

THE INCESSANT BUZZING OF HIS PHONE ON THE COFFEE TABLE had pulled Ian from the comfort of his couch and into the night. It was nearing midnight, and he’d hoped to enjoy a quiet evening after a long week at work. Instead, he was fumbling for his keys, already dreading the sight that awaited him at the club. It had become a pattern, his encouragement to venture out having seemingly backfired into free-flowing drinks and drunken texts; he couldn't tell whether he preferred this or her shut-in stage. At least she's getting out.

As he drove, the warm glow of neon lights reflected off his windshield, and the low bass from the radio filled the air. It was vaguely reminiscent of when his father would drive him home from similar nights out. He couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at his gut; the roles had reversed and he felt entirely unprepared to be the responsible one.

Pulling into the parking lot, he spotted her car— a good sign, at least. Ian took a deep breath, steeling himself for whatever chaos lay ahead. As he stepped inside, the raucous atmosphere hit him like a wave. Scanning the crowd, he finally caught sight of familiar brown hair, half-laughing, half-sobbing with unfamiliar faces in a booth, a bright pink drink in her hand.

With a resigned sigh, he made his way over, weaving through the throng of bodies. ❛ Whit, come on, it’s time to go home, ❜ he said, doing his best to sound firm yet gentle.

[ianrossi]

❛ THANK YOU, ❜ Ian tossed over his shoulder, searching for the source of the voice. He'd ventured out of the clinic on his lunch break with a mission, one that he was at risk of failing if the last three stores were any indication. ❛ Bit of both, ❜ he admitted, wandering further into the gallery. ❛ It's my mother's birthday next week, I always procrastinate getting a gift 'cause she's impossible to shop for and then I end up just getting her flowers. ❜ The painting, however, was a strong contender. ❛ I do, and she's crazy about impressionism. Is everything in here local? ❜

Who: Open 0/4 @newbellevouxstarters Where: Artful Aura

"Welcome to Artful Aura." Addison's voice came from behind the tall counter at the back of the gallery. The little chime above the door alerted her to the new customer. "Are you looking for something in particular today, or just browsing?" Leaving the paperwork she had been working on, Addison approached the person. As their gaze moved to the piece hanging on the wall, Addison launched into professional mode. "That's a new piece actually. We just got it in from a local artist working out of New Orleans. Do you like it?"

[ianrossi]

❛ YOU'LL HAVE TO GIVE ME THEIR NAME ❜ Ian teased, grinning as he raised his glass. ❛ Man, that sounds like a sitcom, only with more baby gates. ❜ He leaned back, imagining the scene, chuckling softly. ❛ Just let me know when Josie's old enough to take care of her first pet, I know some people. ❜ Aside from Whitney, he rarely spent time with little children and hardly knew what to expect from the different ages. As far as he knew, a kindergartener might as well have been two feet tall and a first grader starting to learn long division.

His brow quirked as she nudged him. ❛ Me? The bad one? I seem to remember you enabling it, ❜ he countered with a laugh. Bad was generous. ❛ But hey, if anyone can juggle it all and make their schedule fit their life, it’s you. You’ve always had that knack. ❜ Naturally, when her focus shifted back to him, Ian shifted a bit. ❛ I had a basket of puppies come in this morning, I can't complain. ❜ It was the easier answer, although from the look on her face it wasn't one that she would settle for. ❛ Really though, I've been focusing on building the clinic and spending time with my family. It's different coming back here after living all over the country, ❜ he admitted, taking a sip from his glass. ❛ It's been a year since I moved back but I really thought I would end up staying in Denver, y'know? I finished my residency there, had a job at a specialty practice. Hell, even Seattle seemed more likely than New Bellevoux. Not that I don't love it here, and I'm grateful to have the kind of career that allowed me to come back for Mom and Whit… it's just different. ❜ He shrugged noncommittally, not knowing what else to say. Life had a way of pivoting away from expectations, he was simply doing his best to make the most of it.

❛ I'm hurt that you've forgotten, ❜ he beamed. Naturally, the game was all too amusing for a teenage boy and entirely unwelcome in the everyday life of a forty-year-old; still, the memory of stupid late-night games came flooding back as though they had never left. ❛ It's an improv game, right, so we pick a scenario —let's say we're sitting at a diner— and then we have to come up with as many innuendos as possible. Whoever breaks first, drinks. ❜

Grace laughed at Ian's mention of grey hairs, running a hand through her own hair. “Oh, trust me, I’m getting them too. Thankfully, my stylist does a great job at hiding them for me,” she joked, her eyes twinkling with amusement as they settled into their seats. “Ginny started kindergarten this year, and Josie’s in first grade now,” Grace continued, a proud smile on her face. “And Frankie—she’s seven months already! She’s rolling over and already trying to crawl, which means... baby-proofing all over again.” She let out a playful groan, shaking her head. “I thought I was done with that, but here we are.”

When Ian teased about their past, Grace laughed. “I wasn’t the bad one—you were!” she quipped, giving him a playful nudge. “But honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing. Between the girls and work, I love how busy it keeps me, though I’m hoping I can adjust my schedule soon to spend more time with them.” She took a sip of her drink and tilted her head slightly, her expression softening. “How about you? How’s life? How’s work treating you?” Grace leaned in, genuinely curious, her eyes warm as she listened. “The last time I played ‘If You Know What I Mean,’” she chuckled, shaking her head, “was probably the last time I was with you! I can’t even remember how it goes, but I’m sure you’ll remind me,” she teased, laughing again as the nostalgia washed over her. It felt good, being in Ian’s company again, like old times, and the laughter between them was a welcome break from the whirlwind that had become her daily life. @ianrossi

[ianrossi]

❛ YOU JUST CAN'T SEE THE GREY IN THIS LIGHT, ❜ he laughed. Settling into their seats, Ian listened as Grace spoke of the whirlwind of her life—work, motherhood, and the constant juggling act that seemed to define her days. He knew vague pockets of her life from his mother and sister's anecdotal retellings, and he could hear the lightness in her voice. She had found her way. ❛ I mean, I knew life would be busy, but hearing you talk about it, it’s like watching a movie on fast forward. Frankie must be quite the handful, and the older ones... hopefully aren't as bad as we were. ❜

Ian leaned in slightly, offering a sympathetic smile. ❛ You’ve got a lot on your plate, but it’s clear you’re handling it with grace—no pun intended. ❜ He chuckled softly before continuing, ❛ I’ve missed this too— I don't have as much going on unless you count procrastinating charting my appointments and training my dog to roll over as 'stress'. ❜ He nodded to the two beer glasses resting on the table, condensation soaking small rings into the wood. ❛ Tonight we're getting your head off of things. Tell me, Doc, when's the last time you played 'If You Know What I Mean'? ❜

Grace stepped into the brewery, her senses immediately hit with the smell of hops and the low hum of conversation. The place was a far cry from the dive bars they used to frequent in their younger days, the dimly lit spaces where a sticky floor and a cheap beer were all they needed. But this—this was nice. A bit classier, with warm lighting and wooden tables, perfect for catching up on old times. It felt right, meeting somewhere like this, with a touch of maturity that matched how much their lives had changed since those carefree days. She scanned the room, her eyes searching for the familiar face she hadn’t seen in far too long. When she spotted him, a smile instantly tugged at the corners of her lips. There was something comforting about seeing someone who had known her for most of her life. Even with time and distance, the bond was still there, unspoken but strong.

Grace made her way over, her smile widening as she drew closer. “You haven’t changed a bit,” she said, her voice warm as she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. The familiarity of the embrace was grounding, a reminder of the countless shared memories between them. “Well, maybe just a little,” she teased as she pulled back, giving him a once-over. Settling into the chair across from him, she let out a soft sigh. “It feels like it’s been forever since we’ve done this,” she said, her tone light but carrying the weight of the time that had passed. “Life’s gotten so busy... between work and the girls, I’m lucky if I remember to take a breath most days.” Her fingers absentmindedly toyed with the edge of the menu in front of her, but her attention was fully on him. “I mean, with Frankie, it’s a lot. She’s growing so fast, and the older two… well, they’re busy with their own things now. Sometimes it feels like I’m spinning in a hundred directions all at once. I swear, every time I blink, something new is happening.” There was a lightness in her voice, but also an undertone of exhaustion, the kind that came from the constant balancing act of motherhood, work, and everything in between. She glanced up at him, smiling a bit softer now. “I’ve missed this, though. Just catching up. It feels good.”

[ianrossi]

IT WAS A SIMPLE QUESTION, but one that carried the weight of her entire emotional landscape. Sydney’s grief was palpable, an invisible shroud that hung heavy over the room. Ian could see it in the way she struggled to focus, the way her eyes, clouded by sorrow, sought solace in his familiar presence. Ian’s heart ached for her. He knew all too well the feeling of trying to return to a place that no longer existed, of longing for the past while grappling with an inescapable present.

He met her gaze, his own emotions barely contained beneath a veneer of calm. The truth was harsher than he wanted to admit. The echoes of his father’s death and the burden of unresolved grief had woven themselves into his life in ways he was still trying to understand. Returning to a past that seemed so distant now felt like a cruel jest; the scars, the losses— they all lingered as a painful impossibility.

❛ No, I can't say they have, ❜ he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of shared sorrow. ❛ I could never say that to Whitney, ❜ — and he questioned voicing it to Sydney, now— ❛ She's taking it hard. ❛ But I think we both know that’s not how it works. There are parts of us that will never return to how they were. But maybe… maybe there’s something in learning to move forward. ❜

He offered a small, almost imperceptible smile, a gesture of solidarity and understanding. ❛ The past we want isn’t something we can return to, but we can honor what we’ve lost by doing that. ❜ He had to believe that when his father's loss meant that he should step into the man's role, turning his back on the career he'd built for himself. There had to be honor in charting a new course. ❛ It's that or die trying, right? ❜

Every day since the day they pulled Jesse from the water was a blur. And the more that grief took over her entire body, the more that every day before so was stuck and enveloped in the fog that had crept into her mind. Staring at Ian, Sydney tried to remember the last time she had seen the man who was her friend and ex. Had it been at the wedding? Before? After? Had it been years? Months? Days? She shifted in her seat and tried to sit up when he pushed the beer towards her. Sydney was aware enough to recognize that it was a beer from their new seasonal line with the special pint glass it was in. But Sydney couldn't remember what the seasonal one was. The last one she'd been a part of was before Jesse had died.

They were silent for a moment as he settled in across from her. Bleary, sore eyes from crying blinked over at Ian. Sydney felt so out of it, that she didn't even realize what she must look like to him. Frizzy, greasy, blonde hair was a tangled mess only highlighting how little she was taking care of herself. She had always been so put together before, it came with being raised by her mother as the Heywood daughter. And now she wore a frayed sweater and a matching tank and lounge pants. Clothes she never would have wore in public before.

Sydney blinked at Ian as he finally spoke. She couldn't understand what he was trying to get at. Everything went back to how it was. Perhaps... perhaps he was right. Sydney found herself back in New Bellevoux without Jesse. Except this time he was not coming back. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and as much as she tried to not let them fall here in her brewery sitting across from Ian, she failed and tears silently fell down her cheeks. Rubbing away the tears, Sydney reached for the beer and took a sip to try and give herself something to focus on. "I... uh." She cleared her throat, sniffing and trying to compose herself once more. "Have things gone back to before for you?" She asked.

[ianrossi]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑: @gracemorrisellison 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: the garden

IAN LEANED AGAINST THE TABLE, awaiting his friend's arrival. The brewery was better suited to a reunion than Ray's, the dive bar's seedy lighting less than ideal for anything more than discussions of the weather. No, meeting up with Grace called for more fanfare than beer-stained floors and a distressed pool table.

After all, she was one of the few people who had known him for most of his life, not to mention Whitney's godmother. It took several games of phone tag to pin down one another's schedules, but following a particularly slow day of presentations, while he was out of time, a plan had been set.

He grinned as a familiar face rounded the corner, pushing off from the table to greet her. ❛ Gracie Morris. ❜ The nickname rolled off the tongue with ease, familiarity returning as though a lifetime hadn't passed since the last time they'd seen each other. ❛ How long's it been? ❜

[ianrossi]

BEER IN HAND, Ian’s gaze lazily roved the room. It was a typical night in Ray’s, which meant a steady stream of people and loud music. Tourism was still holding steady, the summer heat driving visitors into the bar searching for a place to relax. Familiarity settled over his shoulders with every passing moment, although time spent away from New Bellevoux had erased his desensitization to Ray’s antics. His attention kept returning to the dog perched atop the busy bar. ❛ Sort of, ❜ Ian started, meeting the man’s eyes, ❛ but not free enough. How much money did you take off those people? ❜

open starter at ray's — @newbellevouxstarters

Charlotte was on the bartop. Which was, strictly forbidden, but ask Ray if he gave a fuck. He was here enough to Ray and, hell, he was Ray. So what if he wasn't actually Ray of Ray's? He was — and claimed to be — for the last five years. Hells Bells was on the jukebox, he'd suckered some out of town tourist for five hundred dollars, and he was feeling a type of way. "You can pay you homage to the Queen," Ray said with a gesture to the Dachsund, as he took their money. She huffed a snort and went back to being curled up on her bed on the bartop. As the people left, he turned to look at the person who was observing him. "Free entertainment?"

[ianrossi]

AS THE AFTERNOON STRETCHED TOWARDS THE EARLY EVENING, Ian found himself standing in the shade of a massive water oak tree waiting for Douglas to return with a tennis ball. Fetch was the one activity that seemed to burn through the dog’s seemingly boundless energy, and he was hardly one to deny him. After spending the past few weeks out of state at an orthopedics conference, it was a relief to be home finally, and winning his way back into Douglas’s good graces was part of that.

However, when he looked up, the dog wasn’t alone. It was no sooner that he realized it that he heard a woman’s voice calling from around the bend. Douglas, for his part, couldn’t care less about the disruption and waited for his owner to toss the ball again. With him occupied, Ian turned his attention to Spike and his owner. ❛ He’s okay, ❜ Ian chuckled, reaching down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. ❛ Don’t take it personally, I make a living out of charming other people’s pets. ❜ He offered a hand, ❛ I’m Ian. ❜

who: Joey & OPEN (0/5) 

where: Willowbrook Park

when: Late Afternoon

@newbellevouxstarters

Days off like this was nice, Josephine was able to do things but yet she was on call if they needed her to come in. But her sister insisted that she went out and enjoyed the day. So that is exactly what she tried to do, finding herself in Willowbrook Park with her dog, Spike. Letting him off the leash, she knew how friendly he actually was and how close he would stay to her. So hopefully others didn't mind. Watching him run off, the moment that he was out of sight she started to get worried after a few minutes and noticing that he didn't return. "Spike!?" She called after him. This time she followed his trail, finding him with someone. "So sorry about that. He usually comes when I call." She gave them a soft polite smile. "But I can see that he just wanted attention from someone who wasn't his mother."

[ianrossi]

Ian: Absolutely, the burger is yours and I'll get you a shake Ian: Do you know how to send your location Ian: ... nevermind, tell me what you see Ian: What buildings are around you? Any landmarks?

Whitney: oll take it! Whitney: yessss? Whitney: pffttt u no fun Whitney: migh ned som helpe.. idk were im at.. Whitney: u promse i get tat burgr?

[ianrossi]

Ian: I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re the mightiest ant I know Ian: You get the best prize Ian: Making it home safely 🏆 Ian: You’ll call if you need anything?

Ian: What was that? Weird, it’s like I heard a tiny voice in the wind 🤔 Ian: …Touché Ian: At least tell me you aren't driving

[ianrossi]

Ian: What was that? Weird, it’s like I heard a tiny voice in the wind 🤔 Ian: …Touché Ian: At least tell me you aren't driving

Ian: That's high praise coming from an ant 🐜 Ian: Jolly Street but you need to get the one with the smash sauce, the bbq sauce tastes weird Ian: Where are you? I'll drive