nighttvpes

[nighttvpes]

location: velvet vine status: closed for @drewhearts (aspen)

irina had picked a corner table where the lighting was soft, all gold and shadow, designed to flatter the powerful. velvet vine never disappointed. it was high-end, discrete, and expensive enough to keep out the wrong kind of eyes. the bottle of wine had arrived five minutes before aspen did. irina had already poured herself a glass, letting the first sip unfurl on her tongue. money through the show, she reminded herself. clean hands, dirty pockets. cassius had made it clear that he wanted her more involved. not just the doll at the front of the house, but maybe a real part of the pentavita’s machinery. she didn’t mind the idea. not really. but she wasn’t about to play blind. if she was going to do this, she wanted it done right.

and that meant talking to aspen. when she saw her arrive, irina stood briefly, the corners of her mouth curving in a warm, polished smile. “you’re a vision,” she said lightly, leaning in to kiss the air beside aspen’s cheek before gesturing toward the seat across from her. “thanks for coming. i owe you one already.”

[nighttvpes]

location: some fun little bar ;) status: closed for @trcnscendant (zaina)

the bar was one of those effortlessly cool places. low lighting, mismatched velvet chairs, pink neon signs buzzing softly from the corners, casting everyone in the kind of glow that made it all look slightly cinematic. defne spotted zaina across the room and lit up, waving like she hadn’t seen her in years instead of a few days. she had texted zaina earlier, practically begged to meet for happy hour. she squeezed through the crowd with a drink menu in one hand and a rhinestoned claw clip barely holding her hair up. “okay, i need help,” she said dramatically, eyes wide. “do i order something fun and flirty, or like…clinically depressing?” she leaned against a high-top table, all glossy lips and perfume and barely disguised chaos. “because i’m having a drown-my-sorrows kind of week. what about you?”

[nighttvpes]

📱text → axel

@crsdskies alma: wyd alma: have a guy here and he's taking forever to break and i'm kinda just over it alma: not really in the mood for torture rn alma: want me to save him for you? alma: act fast on this limited-time offer or i'll ask maddox

[nighttvpes]

people are so petty and then here i am, me, an angel, 

[nighttvpes]

irina: same here. an outfit that's hot, but also that doesn't give everyone too much of a free show. irina: this show is...slightly different. than the other ones i've done. i have a few more responsibilities. irina: can't talk much about it via text. irina: with all that going on, i don't know how you manage to make it look so effortless, violet.

Violet: I can when I want to be. Violet: Yes, I have a feeling I'll be spending the day shopping to find something. Violet: I would be surprised if he wasn't. But I'm sure I can guide him there if he had other plans. Violet: It won't be for a while. Cassius thinks he might have found the perfect location for it, but I'm still deciding.

[nighttvpes]

?!?

[nighttvpes]

alma tilted her head, a slow grin unfurling like cigarette smoke. not sweet. sure as hell not soft. it curled at the corner of her mouth like she was already three moves ahead. “oh, he’ll pay,” she said, voice all casual drag, like the money was already folded and hidden in her boot. “guys like that? they’re fuckin' pussies. fragile egos wrapped in overpriced suits. you know i can smell that shit two blocks out.”

her eyes dropped to his arm when he rolled up his sleeve, but she didn’t react the way most people did. no pity. no wide eyes. just that same unreadable flicker across her face...brief, sharp, gone. “mm,” she said. not dismissive, not sentimental. just noted.

she clocked the bartender’s mistake without turning her head, eyes flicking toward the bottle left half-exposed on the counter. easy target. obvious bait. then she glanced back at jason, caught the twitch at the corner of his mouth. the glint in his eye. her smirk sharpened like a blade. “you wanna play who’s faster, robin hood?” she asked, voice dipping into a grin that sounded like trouble. “let's get the fuck outta here. you look like you need to break something,” she added, fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “and i could use some air. i'll let ya walk me home.” she craved fresh air, a cigarette, maybe a few drinks from a stolen bottle shared with a friend.

Jason exhaled a short, sharp noise, more breath than sound. Not quite amusement, not quite not—more like something settling into place as he considered her half-assed plan. Wasn't a bad one, and Jason really fucking hated those types—sleazy, unfaithful, thought they were untouchable, the kind he relished tossing out of the Pit and showing them exactly how untouchable they really were. "How much you think the asshole'll pay to keep his shit clean?" His brow ticked up, and he cracked his knuckle with his thumb. "High roller kind?"

At her question, Jason simply nodded and rolled up the sleeve of his hoodie as his answer, cuffing it right above his elbow. He uncovered a collection of dull red marks that still streaked up and down the side of his arm, some fading, some not. All a testament to getting as many people out as he could.

"Figured you'd take it as a fuckin' compliment." His pause was deliberate. "You'd pickpocket a saint if ya thought there was a twenty in his robe." Jason mused, leaning back as he knocked back the rest of his beer. "And I ain't buyin' ya shit," He added, then gave the bartender a slow glance before the man turned, fumbling to grab something from the bottom shelf and leaving a bottle of the expensive shit exposed.

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was debating a grin, but it never quite hit, blues wired with an unspoken challenge.

[nighttvpes]

alma loved reading. always had. even as a kid, when her words were sparse and her voice quieter than most, she’d devour anything with a spine. didn’t matter if it was fantasy or the back of a cereal box. if it had letters, she’d consume it. books didn’t ask for anything. they just gave and gave and gave. still, she never romanticized it. she read like she did everything else: with purpose. now, sitting across from him, she popped a fry into her mouth and shrugged. “mm, you’re probably right about that.” her voice was easy. “guess i just don’t like when things get fuckin’ complicated.” she said it like it was obvious. like anything other than simplicity was a waste of time. alma liked life stripped down. no fluff. no drama unless it was happening to someone else and it was funny. her brain worked in clean lines. if it itched, she scratched it. if she wanted something, she went for it. if she didn’t? she didn’t. and there were maybe five people on the planet she’d do something for just because they asked. "though these days, everything's so damn complicated, isn't it?"

she glanced at him again, chewing slowly, eyes fixed. “among other things,” she added, still watching him like she wasn’t taught it was rude to stare. like she was measuring something behind his face. then, flat but amused: “hm. noted. i've never begged for anything in my life, so we should be good. but i'll try not to get on your bad side.” she picked up another fry, took a bite. leaned back in her seat like she had all the time in the world. “i’m alma.”

“  i'm  not  much  of  a  reader,  but  i'll  take  your  word  for  it,  ”  henry  told  her.  he  was  sure  she  was  probably  right.  his  comment  hadn't  been  all  that  sincere  anyways.  he  had  no  intentions  of  reading  murder  novels  in  the  first  place.  why  would  he  when  he  was  already  heavily  involved  in  the  world  of  crime  ?  he  didn't  need  to  read  a  book  to  see  some  gruesome  shit.  that  was  just  a  normal  tuesday  in  their  world.  henry  listened  to  her  talk,  nodding  politely.  she  wasn't  wrong,  not  the  slightest  bit.  there  didn't  always  need  to  be  some  intricate  backstory  and  weird  motive.  sometimes,  it  really  was  as  simple  as  one  person  making  the  wrong  choice  and  paying  the  ultimate  price  for  their  foolish  decision.  “  yeah,  sometimes  it  is  just  that  simple.  i  agree.  it  doesn't  always  have  to  tie  into  anything  deep  or  like  ...  childhood  trauma  or  whatever.  not  everyone  knows  that,  though.  plus  ...  i'm  pretty  sure  nobody  would  wanna  read  a  book  about  a  guy  getting  killed  for  pissing  off  the  wrong  guy.  that's  why  they  make  them  so  dramatic,  ”  he  said,  shrugging.  “  if  they  did  want  that,  they'd  probably  just  watch  some  true  crime  podcast  or  something  with  all  the  facts  already  there.  ”

he  chuckled  at  her  words,  nodding  in  acknowledgement.  he  didn't  think  he  gave  off  demure  vibes.  “  well,  at  least  you're  observant.  ”  he  wasn't  sure  how  he  felt  about  her  accurately  reading  him.  it  was  scarily  accurate,  but  he  kept  that  thought  to  himself.  “  i'm  only  a  nightmare  when  someone's  begging  for  it,  ”  he  paused.  “  henry.  and  you  are  ?  ”

[nighttvpes]

irina: please do! it's so empty here without you. i'll order some food irina: OMG HOT 🔥🔥🔥 irina: he's not gonna be able to resist you irina: you still have to tell me about your little late night rendezvous irina: celebrate a little, probably spiral a lot. all the fun things irina: i feel like a schoolgirl with a crush and it's weird. like since when do i get fucking butterflies? irina: gross

Kinny: I'll be okay. I'm at work right now but maybe tomorrow I can come over? Another wine night? Kinny: who knows man Kinny: Yes! I do! Kinny: [fit pic] Kinny: A little under boob to make him drool ykyk Kinny: SHUT UP Kinny: SHUT UPPP Kinny: OH MY GOD YESSS Kinny: def wine tomorrow! We have to celebrate!

[nighttvpes]

alma snorted, leaning back slightly in her chair, the curve of her mouth pulling lazy and dry. “escape to where exactly?” she asked, flicking her eyes over giselle like she was genuinely curious. “new york is my fuckin' escape.” she tapped the rim of her glass with a fingertip. the kind of absent, fidgeting motion that didn’t match how still her expression was. “and what am i supposed to be runnin’ from?” she added, voice low, a little flat now. not defensive. just honest. “i actually like my life.” then she met giselle’s eyes, steady, unflinching. “do you?” it wasn’t a challenge, but it wasn’t soft either. alma wasn’t the type to pull punches just to keep a conversation friendly. she was intrigued by giselle, genuinely so. alma liked answers. especially from people she hadn’t figured out yet. and giselle...giselle was interesting. she hadn’t expected that. hadn’t expected the wit, the bite, the way she gave just enough without ever really giving in. alma liked people she misjudged. mostly because it didn’t happen often. when it did, it cracked something open in her. made her curious. made her want to peel something back. then she said next time. alma tilted her head, a slow smirk forming as she leaned in slightly. “you askin’ me to hang out?” her tone was all drawl now. “like a real place? cloth napkins? we wear shoes that hurt and pretend we’re not lookin’ at the exits? damn, almost sounds like a date.”

Giselle could sense that maybe Alma didn't get to experience the same, which she could understand since the woman was in here swiping shit from people, but luckily for her, their little encounter might have been fate. "You could get an escape of your own, you know?" She offered. Maybe it was her lack of good judgment lately, or in general if you asked her father, but once an idea was in her head, there was no going back. As Alma seemed to be throwing another compliment her way, she'd lost track of just how many that was tonight, yet she wasn't mad about it. Most of her appeal stuck more with those who were either involved with a gang or on her level in the legal field, so she had a tendency to be more friendly with them. "Petty doesn't quite describe it, but what can I say? Gotta keep people on their toes." Gigi teased before grabbing another shot and downing it, realizing that she was well beyond her usual alcohol limit now and should probably call it quits now. "You can pick my brain any time you want, but how about we do it somewhere more upscale next time?"

[nighttvpes]

“trust me,” she began, eyes meeting natalie’s with a steadiness that didn’t quite match the bitterness in her voice. “counting exits, clocking faces, memorizing who's in the room...my family drilled that into me when i was still little enough to sit on laps. they made sure i knew how to be paranoid before i knew how to do basic math. but they never actually taught me how to defend myself.” a dry scoff slipped from her lips before she could catch it. not mocking, just quietly stunned, like she was only now realizing the absurdity of it. her gaze wandered, catching on a group of drunk girls weaving through the casino in glittering dresses and high heels, laughter spilling from their mouths like confetti. her expression softened, almost imperceptibly.

“even when i’m drunk,” she murmured, more to herself than to natalie, “i don’t think i’ve ever felt that free. not in a public place like this.” she took a sip of her drink. “i’ve never even fired a gun.” she’d handled them, sure. for image, for intimidation, for inventory. but no one had ever walked her through it, not really. not like they did with the ones they expected to kill. she paused then, studying natalie’s expression. looking pretty had been enough for a long time. but lately...she’d been thinking more and more about what cassius said. things were changing. still, she smiled at the image of neo sipping painkillers through a straw. “if anyone would do that, it’d be him. if you’re on the case,” she said, raising her glass slightly in salute, “whoever pulled that trigger better get their affairs in order.”

she  nodded  at  the  woman's  words,  lips  pressing  together.  those  were  not  methods  natalie  would  recommend  herself.  “  sure,  those  have  cut  it  for  you  before,  but  you  can't  guarantee  they'll  always  be  effective.  you  want  some  genuine  tips  ?  ”  she  didn't  give  her  time  to  actually  answer  before  she  carried  on  with  some  of  her  own  advice.  “  start  carrying  a  gun.  maybe  a  knife  if  a  gun's  too  intimidating  to  you.  even  a  taser  or  pepper  spray  could  save  your  life.  take  some  self  defense  classes.  be  prepared  for  all  obstacles  and  any  potential  ambushes.  ”  nat  was  just  looking  out  for  the  blonde,  didn't  want  to  see  anything  happen  to  her.  “  do  you  know  where  all  the  exits  are  in  here  ?  because  you  should.  case  every  place  you  walk  into,  and  look  for  all  potential  exits  and  makeshift  weapons  if  necessary.  ”  perhaps  that  wasn't  what  irina  was  necessarily  looking  for,  but  she  figured  she'd  offer  the  sage  advice  regardless.  “  lookin'  pretty  might've  been  enough  in  the  past,  but  it's  not  going  to  be  enough  forever.  ”

natalie  made  sure  she  thanked  the  server  before  returning  her  attention  to  irene.  she  liked  her,  she  was  decent  company.  natalie  didn't  consider  herself  the  type  of  person  who  had  many  friends,  but  she  was  friendly  enough  with  the  blonde.  “  painkillers  crushed  into  orange  juice  sounds  like  a  pretty  shitty  idea,  so  you're  probably  not  wrong  about  that,  ”  she  surmised,  nose  scrunching  up  at  the  thought.  “  none  yet,  but  i'm  not  planning  on  giving  up.  i'm  gonna  find  out  who  did  this.  i  don't  care  how  long  it  takes.  ”

[nighttvpes]

irina: no, it sounds really ovewhelming. are you gonna be okay? do you need anything? i'll doordash ice cream to you so fast, don't think i won't irina: what does that even mean? laying low...like, how refreshingly vague and shady irina: AHHHH!!! omg. do you have your outfit picked out? i can't wait to see you two together irina: um irina: mystery man has a name i should tell you i guess and it's levi and we're kinda dating now irina: like an official couple. with a label irina: surprise... irina: !

Kinny: This is just so much all at once Kinny: I have no idea, he said 'laying low' like the fuck? Kinny: I hope not. After the messy break up with Vinny... i dont need any drama Kinny: YES! He asked me and is making it an official first date! Kinny: what about you? any updates with the mystery man

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defne: no worries, i can imagine. it's been insane here too. defne: no, i don't. i was kinda just shook and didn't really know what to say. i'm used to people being pissed, hera, but it's worse than that right now. defne: i'm free literally whenever. this is pretty important so i'll make time. defne: i already talked to gideon. who is super nice and very helpful and definitely deserves a raise. btw. 😊 but he said he could also help. the last thing we need is mass panic and the masses are kiiinda starting to panic. defne: i get it. i'm just looking for a way to assure people they're safe.

hera: sorry , late reply my phone is ringing off the hook lately hera: shit, do you have any information on the woman because doesn't matter how she meant it a threat is a threat i will not stand for it. hera: i would rather give you details in person for obvious reasoning. when are you free next. hera: i have a afternoon slot open, i have to meet with the governor for some updates of their own. not sure how much i'll be able to share but you know I'll offer up what i can. just tell me what you need and be specific, i can't do vague truth adjacent. that way i can either veto something or confirm whether i can share it or not. hera: hope you understand.

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there’s a distinct possibility alma’s never asked for anything nicely in her life. she didn’t come from please and thank you. no little manners drilled into her. asking nicely gets you ignored, her father used to say. so alma learned to take. "that was me askin' nicely," she says now, flashing a grin that doesn't bother to hide its edges. all teeth, no apology. he claims he’s got nothing else for her. she doesn’t believe it. never has. not since their first encounter. she knew it then, just like she knows it now: he always knows more than he says. he gets up, she follows. not with some pretend reluctance or show of dignity. not with that fake slow pace people use to cover up urgency. alma never faked anything. outside, the city hums like a living thing. power lines buzz. someone shouts two blocks away. a delivery bike tears through a red light. she steps up beside him. not shoulder to shoulder, but close enough. “’sup with you?” she asks, casual. breezy. “how’s that fuckin’ lady downstairs from you? the laundromat one.”

"If you ask nicely." A tease accompanied by a gesture of goodwill he, reaches into his pocket for the pack of smokes and offers her a fresh one. Elliott's gaze drifts back towards the door as she speaks, leaning against the bar top as he brings it back once more. Truth be told he probably noticed as much as she did at the mystery man now short a wallet and all his cash, but it's pointless with him out of sight and out of mind. "Nah, these are the only useful goods I have on me." He sighs, plucking the cigarette from his ear. "Speaking of, I need this, you're welcome to join me." The need had been put off too long and was now a screaming voice coursing through his veins. He pushed himself from the bartop to head outside, giving her the time to join or not.

[nighttvpes]

she stands there with him in this strange, suspended moment. caught between the noise of the city and the quiet thunder of her own heartbeat. a dog barks somewhere behind them. a vendor down the block is yelling about change. sirens wail faintly in the distance. all of it brushes against her skin like static. she takes a few shallow breaths, slow and deliberate, trying to anchor herself. her mind won’t stop racing. irina prides herself on always knowing what’s coming next, reading people like cards. making predictions like it’s a survival instinct. because it was one. but this? she hadn’t seen this coming. he’s certain. she can feel it radiating off him…this quiet, unshakable certainty. certain about her. about seeing her. and god, she’s heard that before. but this doesn’t feel rehearsed. doesn’t feel like theater. she watches him, still and silent, like she’s trying to memorize the shape of this version of him. the bag twisting between his fingers. the confusion on his face. the way the stained glass catches in his eyes and makes him look almost unreal. “it’s not you i don’t trust,” she says finally, voice even. too even, like each word has been sanded down. “it’s me.” and then, quieter. more real. “i like the way you look at me right now. i’m just…not sure you’d keep looking at me the same way if you knew everything about me.” the words settle between them like dust dancing in sunlight. but then, a small, reluctant smile tugs at her lips. something uncertain but there. real. “but,” she begins, tone lifting ever so slightly; hopeful, despite herself. “i’m willing to try. you’re the first person i’ve ever really wanted to try for.” she steps forward, just enough to close the space. and when her eyes meet his again, the charge between them is unmistakable. “and i would love to be your girlfriend.”

levi gets it kind of. the feeling of asking someone out and being asked out was scary. levi never got that when he was younger. this was his first time trying this, in all honesty. being honest and being open with her but a relationship isn’t a one way road, is it? he was ready to do that, all or nothing. he fiddles with the plastic bag that holds the matryoshka doll in it, feeling his index finger lace the plastic bag around his finger– a nervous habit of his. he nods at her words almost looking like a deer in headlights. his bright blue hues looked even more blue as he was against the stained glass from the church and the foyer they were standing underneath. “why would i be?” he asks, his brows knitted together in confusion. “worried, i mean? if anything i think it will just make our friendship stronger.” levi had been thinking of doing this for a while. he had every possibility mapped out in his head. if he needed to run and hide of embarrassment? he could. if she turned him down, he wouldn’t be mad; that would have been her decision. he stands there holding the plastic bag firmly in his hand, almost as if the bag and the doll were his safety net right now. “irina, with certainty i can say, what your family does and what is left of mine, i don’t have anything to worry about, i’m asking you out after going through every possibility in my head of what could happen. I….” he lets his voice trail off wondering what the right words are. to get her to stop having this sort of reflex she has a diversion to love. “i know you have to build up walls because of your family, but— i want to see all of it, this is the most CERTAIN i’ve been in my life, asking you out. ”

[nighttvpes]

“yeah, no shit you’re too fucked up,” alma said, calm as ever, but a crooked grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. there was no judgment in her words, just that dry amusement she always carried. as if the world were ridiculous and she’d already made peace with that. “you took what, five shots?" she didn’t wait for an answer. didn’t need one. her eyes scanned the car in one slow pass. no backseat surprises. the glove box hung open a little. a rosary swung from the rearview mirror. someone’s abuela was gonna be really confused in the morning. alma adjusted the mirrors with one hand and buckled her seatbelt with the other, smooth and unbothered. “you did good,” she added, quieter. almost lazy. like praise didn’t have to be loud to be real. then, moving her eyes toward brooklyn, “but next time we steal a car, can it not be a fuckin' kia?” they rolled out slow, her eyes cutting from the street to the rearview mirror, sharp and practiced. “we can’t get pulled over,” she muttered, flicking the headlights off for a second as they passed under a traffic cam. “daddy zev’s already fuckin’ pissed we ended up in that police report, you know”

Brooklyn shook her head, she wasn't okay. It was a weird concept for her, not having to pretend to be okay. She wasn't sure anyone had ever said that to her before. It seems like people are picking up on the fact that she does that, it was evident when the peach pit scandal finally broke. All those years of abuse and she pretended to be just that... okay. She didn't have a response to that, just to look away. After all this time, Alma knew her well and she loved that. Because she wasn't sure she'd want anyone else by her side right now. "Um, no.... but I can get us one." Brooklyn said taking her hand and moving down the street. She shot off a text to Henry letting him know she was on her way and to have someone wipe the camera's of the street she was on. Brooklyn dog in her purse and pulled out a lock jimmier and popped the door open of a near by car. Sliding into the front seat she pulled the panel off and hot wired the car. It roared to life as she looked up to Alma, "You gotta drive. I'm to fucked up."

[nighttvpes]

she doesn’t say anything at first. doesn’t rush toward him. doesn’t flinch.just stands there, watching the shape of him fold in on itself—towel over his face, knees pulled tight, like he’s trying to erase his own outline. the sobs that break the silence are raw and uncontained. like the kind that come from somewhere ancient. she leaves the food where it is, half-forgotten on the counter, and moves slowly toward him. like every step has to be earned. she doesn’t want to startle him. when she reaches him, she crouches. not to touch, not to fix. just to meet him on the same plane and make it known that he isn’t alone on the floor. “okay,” she says softly. no pressure. no performance. just a single syllable, steady and clean, dropped like a pebble into water. she lets a few seconds pass. lets him breathe. or cry. or not. then, her voice, low and plain. “do you want me to stay?” no edge. no pity. just the kind of calm that comes from someone who’s been through this before. she doesn’t try to reach for him. doesn’t try to pull him out of it. she just gives him the choice. which, in her world, is a kind of mercy.

in moments like these kenjie really felt like he was prometheus chained to a rock and where an eagle would eat his liver. instead of this time kenjie’s baggage was what he was going to be forever chained to. the feeling of never being close to his twin again when they used to be able to finish each other’s sentences. the heartache of never having his original family again and never being able to go home. kenjie’s heart felt like it was on fire. he wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like or if he was just recuperating from the panic attack in the bathroom. he thinks if he’s going to speak to her, his voice might shatter in this large apartment just with the two of them, though his eyes were rimmed with water threatening to escape. he laughs a bit weakly though the laugh did sound more like a sob and he felt himself crumble to his knees, letting the towel wrap around his face almost as if it were a shield to make the tears vanish from irina’s eye sight. he’s angrily whipping them away with the towel now as she could hear the sobs fill the air. “no,” he says weakly as all you can see from over the turquoise towel was his freshly wet pink hair. fuck, he collapsed his side to the ground, wrapping himself into a tight ball. between this conversation and the gala, he was absolutely not doing well.