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[islahuntd]

Isla Hunt attends Fight Club 2022 escorted by her ego and 3 months of pent up rage <3

[islahuntd]

jessi-reyes​:

Rolling her eyes, Jess moves into the bedroom and gets her duffle bag out from under the bed, “A cult?” Jessica pauses looking over to the blonde, “Sounds drastic, but glad to see you thinking ahead,” the tease was lighthearted as she continued to toss articles of clothing into the bag.

“Paris! I’ve never been before, so I’m really excited,”

As she tosses another pair of short into the bag, she pauses to assess what she really wants to bring and folds them into respective places. Isla’s tone, more than her words, garner her attention. “Yes, I think it was her birthday recently,” Turning to focus her on her, Jessica crosses her arms and arches her brow, “No, I’m not fucking with you, Isla. Why would I?”

~

“Still not convinced Ley didn’t join one, so not taking any chances with you,” the blonde laughed, heading over to kiss Jess lightly on the cheek before plopping down on the bed beside the suitcase. “Don’t take those, take the black ones, or that one skirt - ya know the flowy one that somehow still makes your ass look incredible?”

Paris. Paris and Leyla’s post and absence. And then there was Isla’s own little disappearing act, the injuries she’d brushed off still echoed across her face and ribs. Maybe the lies she’d pressed into Jess’s skin hadn’t been as sweet as she thought. Or maybe the other woman didn’t care, had grown tired of her as well. Isla’s eyes narrowed slightly at Jess’s crossed arms, her voice turning cruel.

“I know you aren’t stupid, Jess, you know exactly who the fuck she is and what she does,” Isla tucked her knees up under her, shifting on the bed to move just a bit further away before ruining everything. “Is this some thing to get back at Johnathan? By running to the fucking French?” There, she’d done it. Punctured the intimacy of this space with his name, flung out like a weapon. But she couldn’t stop. “Like, I get it - he was the fucking worst to you! But maybe let’s not go play with Marie Antoinette when her minions actively want to fucking kill me.”

[islahuntd]

aviv-kasyanenko​:

‘He got a few hits in with that stupid fucking ring.’

The words piqued both interest and concern in equal measure courtesy of one specific observation: he was French. Aviv gave her face another once over, assessing the damage he was still surprised she’d walked away from. As if he’d be able to tell. Without much thought, he fished out the lengthy chain which hung beneath his shirt, each of the Commandant rings he’d collected over the years rattling at its end. He raised his eyebrow as if to ask: one of these?  

If it was, bad was an understatement. 

“Will you sit the fuck down before you break something,” he sighed, letting the rings drop from his hand in favour of the same arm finding its way around her waist in support. The Israeli attempted to to guide her toward a chair, more worried said broken thing would be a piece of his furniture, and not another one of her fucking ribs. “You going to be okay, or do you want me to call on someone to check you out?”

~

She’d gone to Aviv for exactly this, he’d never be one to panic. She frowned again and it fucking hurt, with a hiss she reached for the paper towels by his sink in an attempt to clean up her face. The Israeli pulled out that chain he always war, trophies she’d once teased him over with ring pops as a gift. Isla tried to focus on the swaying rattling things because she knew what he was asking.

“Nah, not exactly, it looked gold but I don’t know,” he was the expert, and she’d been a bit distracted. Isla let him guide her into a chair, unable to hold back a grunt of pain over what was surely broken ribs. “All good, promise,” she mumbled. There was no fucking way she was going anywhere else, or really wanted to involve anyone else. A nagging voice in her mind knew she needed to talk to Vidal, but for now, this second, she could focus on her breathing. “Just need like, an ice pack or two and some painkillers. Maybe alcohol.” She pressed the towel to her head once more and the blood flow seemed to have lessened. “Oh and what are those like fancy band-aids like with some bug name? Like smaller than normal but special? I don’t know.”

“Hey, Aviv?” She called out once more as he inevitably set out to get what she asked, or at least keep her from bleeding all over his furniture. “Thank you for answering.”

[islahuntd]

henrygarcia​:

“Exactly. It’s been months. They’ve had the time to recover,” Henry offered a different perspective, however grim it was relative to Isla’s more optimistic take. He let out a sigh—Henry could really only hope the French would rather handle other matters than get their revenge on the blonde that made them gather in one place. He gave the girl a small smile at her promise. “Make sure to keep it.”

Henry knew exactly who Isla had been talking about even without a mention of a name. The girl looked up to Vidal, as did most people under his care in Brixton, even those beyond it. Her blunder left him a big mess to clean up, and despite their friendship, Vidal always put the interest of the community first. As for Jess, Henry could only let out a sigh. She was her own woman and allowed to do what she wanted. Though Henry doubted she’d get in trouble whilst in Paris, it didn’t sit right knowing she was in their territory. “You say that like you got the short end of the stick,” he joked. Maybe she did.

“No, but I have a feeling after dinner I will know too much about him.”

~

“And way more important slash memorable people to go after,” Isla didn’t want to argue with him, not after she’d almost systematically picked fights with every other important person in her life. So the blonde gave Henry a halfhearted smile and nodded to confirm that she would, in fact, try her very best to make it to dinner in once piece.

“No, it’s just -” she hesitated, lingering right on the edge of vulnerability, right on the precipice of actually fucking talking to someone. About how weightless she felt, as if she’d cut all of the lines holding her simply because she could. Only now she was falling, barrelling into that deep well of nothingness inside her and she was way too fucking stubborn to call out for help. Anger and armor, all the way down.

“Nevermind.” She blinked, and it was like nothing happened. “You’re always welcome to bring your own niche academic interests to the table, if that’s not your vibe,” she arched a brow. “Oh and bring wine. Or tequila. Pretty please and thank you.”

[islahuntd]

franciscovidal​:

“It’s work hours, you git.” He pressed his index finger to her forehead, moving her away from his space. “Some of us aren’t blacklisted and have things to do.”

~

“Fucking rude,” Isla scowled over being moved and simply stepped back where she was, pulling a lollipop from her bag and opening it. “What are you doing? I’ll just keep bothering you until you tell me. I’m so fucking bored, please Bens?” 

[islahuntd]

franciscovidal​:

“Ah, here you go again, Isl. Give your ‘ead a wobble, why don’t ya? You don’t ‘ave to fockin’ be the spanner lookin’ for attention all the time, now do ya?” 

~

“Consider that maybe I do,” she shrugged, then looked at him. “Right, are you still too fucked up to be useful?” 

[islahuntd]

franciscovidal​:

@islahuntd​

“Your dad got smashed last night. It was proper mint.” 

~

“Why were you drinking with my father?” She frowned. “More importantly, why were you drinking with my father and without me?” 

[islahuntd]

text to leyla

Leyla: I think it is my duty to encourage you.

Leyla: I know, I know. You know how it is though, when everything that's happened. I was just... Let's just leave it at 'I won't ever do this again'?

Leyla: I know. I made you your own account because you kept forward watching my stuff. I feel like you did that on purpose... pfft.

Leyla: We don't categorise people here. We're going with an absolute angel for basically a day.

Leyla: How about I send you sneaky pictures of Cassie while I'm away???

Isla: ok wanna dye my hair pink when you come over?

Isla: seriously though promise you're ok?

Isla: yeah thats what you get for ABANDONING ME spoilers bitch!

Isla: im sure she is an absolute angel but i was raised with the mantra of 'don't trust your government kids'

Isla: ya know how creepy that sounds but genuinely i cant bring myself to care

[islahuntd]

text to leyla

Leyla: Don't worry it will be around 11am - I'll nap before coming to yours, shower as well. You know - o keep at least some of me classy.

Leyla: I'm in. yesssss.

Leyla: Go all out? When has anyone ever stopped you before??

Leyla: I promise I did not join a cult, No Travolta stuff for me. Just new friends, okay? They're good and lovely, I promise you.

Leyla: And I promise you it won't happen again.

Isla: 11am my beloved

Isla: no no pink is a cry for help do not encourage me

Isla: fine i believe you this time but you realize how sketch 'wellness retreat' sounds ik you watched the same cult docs i do, im still using your netflix log in

Isla: truly cannot believe both you AND JESS are abandoning me for posh people

Isla: like you know cassandra acton is my 'if i had to pick a politician' crush hdu

[islahuntd]

text to leyla

Leyla: As if I would ever forget you. pppfttttttttt

Leyla: I am back now how. about I head over after work? I have a night shift so i could do the morning and bring all the extra sauce?

Leyla: Do I detect a hidden insult of sorts??

Isla: YOU BETTER NOT

Isla: how morning is morning like timewise? im barely a human as is but im a menace before 8am

Isla: as if, all of my insults are open

Isla: maybe i just really wanna watch marie antoinette (2006, dir. sofia coppola) and contemplate doomed french queens

Isla: OOOHHHH you know that part where she has like the very light pastel pink hair? think i could pull that off? or should i stick to crisis bangs

Isla: wow i am not at all a pink girlie send help

Isla: THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU JOIN A CULT AND VANISH I START LOSING IT

[islahuntd]

text to leyla

Isla: ok miss thing

Isla: whenever you get back from gallivanting around the world (thats a big word for isla) with your posh friends, remember us peasants

Isla: aka me

Isla: cant beat paris but my dad will make you french toast and give you an incredibly detailed overview of the French Revolution since this is seemingly your current vibe

[islahuntd]

peyton-harrow​:

“I don’t think so,” Peyton said, thinking about it for a moment, “But like the kind that has like natural goldish highlights. It’ll then keep your natural color close, but while also letting you play around with it.” 

~

Isla laughed at that suggestion, but it wasn’t particularly cruel. 

“Yeah, as great a suggestion as that is, the budget is distinctly no - thus,” she gestured vaguely at the box dye in front of her, “this and the likelihood of ruining my hair and kitchen sink in the process.” 

“Damn, it was a good idea while it lasted,” Isla sighed, “maybe I will just cut it. Or get bangs? Is that too cliche?” 

[islahuntd]

henrygarcia​:

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Then again, Henry couldn’t deny that Isla couldn’t hide forever, most especially from her own father. “Just keep your head low, make sure you’re not being followed. I’ll see you and your dad for dinner.”

~

“Yes, its fine. Don’t they like, have a bunch of other shit to worry about? Like seriously I will be fine its been months.” Isla sighed, but felt a surge of gratitude for Henry and his friendship, as much as she hated it she knew his concern came from a place of affection, not anger. “Promise to be careful.” 

“He probably won’t come,” a bit of a sting, the distance between her and Vidal that was entirely her fault, “and Jess is in Paris which is like a whole other fucking thing.” Another thing she would not talk about, could not talk about right now. “So seems like its just gonna be you, me, and dad.” Isla smirked. 

“Hope you did your homework, he’s been on a Russian Literature kick lately, know anything about Dostoevsky?” 

[islahuntd]

jessi-reyes​:

“That sounds nice! Wait- I’m actually going on a little girls trip with Leyla this weekend. One of her friends invited us. Her name is Aur-something. Maybe we could still go next weekend?”

~

“Boo, cross out Jessica.” Isla pouted, but it was playful. “Promise not to join a cult, okay? I still haven’t gotten a clear answer out of her about that whole thing. But I could probably convince Henry to help me kidnap you should you get sucked in.” The blonde smirked, and took a sip of her iced coffee. 

“Where are you going?” And for a moment, that was it - interest in where her best friend was going and maybe just the slightest pang over not being as close to Leyla as she once was. Isla had a tendency to push away everyone wonderful in her life, so maybe it was for the best. And then something sparked.

“Wait - Aur-something like from her instagram post? Are you fucking with me?” 

[islahuntd]

@jessi-reyes​

“So I was thinking since it’s so fucking hot we could maybe go to the coast this weekend? I’m going out of my mind stuck here.” 

[islahuntd]

franciscovidal​:

“Yes.”

`

Yes. 

And then everything stopped. Isla froze, preternaturally still as everything inside of her seemed to almost shut down. It didn’t matter, nothing fucking mattered. It was all the same - one cage traded for the illusion of freedom and the promise of community only to become a slightly nicer cage. Her eyes went vacant, like they had been for so many weeks back when Vidal had sat with her in silence for hours until she’d finally accepted, and then clung too, his willing company inside the actual prison.  

She hated how much she suddenly needed the feeling of a solid something at her back, she hated needing anything. A few steps and Isla was pressed against the wall and sinking to the floor. Her eyes squeezed shut and her breath came out in shallow gasps between clenched teeth, head tilted back against the wall as her chest rose and fell with each rapidly increasing breath. 

She hated how easily she broke in front of him. 

“Then just fucking let them have me,” it was barely a whisper, more like a sob that she’d never admit to. Slim fingers reached out across the floor, reaching for something and clutching at nothing. Last time she’d been caged she’d had him, had them as an anchor. She'd been spiralling for weeks now, looking for something - anything - to hold on to. And maybe she was so far gone, so fucking stir crazy, that one word from said anchor could destroy her grip on the real world. 

Isla leaned her head back against the wall and let out a choked sob, eyes clenched tight. Then she broke, looking up at him with eyes full of ice, full of nothingness before speaking, voice hallow. 

“They might even pay you,” no emotion, there was nothing on her face but the scar of the frenchman’s ring across her cheekbones and the empty echo of what had once been Isla. “How much do you think I’m worth?” 

Isla closed her eyes again, and waited for the worst.