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[nixbannick]

Nix watched the other work for a moment, gathering herself and surmising he worked in the shop. "God, there's a story or two there," she quipped. "I'm glad I didn't run you over. Also glad I'm not the worst part of your day." She wrinkled her nose at him. "I might be surprised, but I used to work in social media so I've seen a lot of boneheaded shit happen while people knew they were being filmed."

Banks shook his head, even though the armful of books were moments away from ending up on the floor between them if the other had taken one more wrong step. Or he hadn't stepped back fast enough himself. He was used to people not seeing him when they were engrossed in books, but this was the first time it was because someone was dancing. "Nah, and if you had.. it wouldn't be the worst thing that's happened to me when I'm working here," he commented with a shrug as he slid one book into place on a shelf to his right. "You'd be surprised by the shit that people do when they think people aren't watching them every second."

[nixbannick]

Nix nodded, looking down at the coffee she'd yet to sip, and frowned. It wasn't a sad frown so much as a thoughtful one, though. While she was never better than a failed artist, she wondered if that had somehow stifled the flow of her grief or limited her ability to somehow rid herself of it or mold it into something she could tolerate. He lapsed into reflection as she did the same, so when he sipped, she sipped. She barely tamped down the urge to crack a joke about 'you sip, I sip, we sip.' Sometimes, Nix was fairly sure she wasn't actually an adult yet. He turned her query back on her a little, charmingly used her full name, and that was what it took for the clouds to clear. She smiled. "The same -- more or less. More coffee and probably more chaotic thinking, less journaling and singing." She tapped at her purse. "Reading. I just moved back and have yet to land a job, so I have to find ways to fill my time. And I have to remind myself that leaving the house once a day is good for me." She arched an eyebrow. "Charmed by your first Spring here? May I ask what brought you to town?"

"Strong emotion certainly breeds exceptional art. Especially when that pain and conflict is laced through it, I suppose." But at what cost? Aaron often mulled over the thought... was suffering for art worth anything at all? Sure, part of his grief and hurt had been the foundation of his career, at least at one point. And it pushed him to do more, distract himself and move through his agony. But it also left him feeling hollow, at the end of the day. What was that worth after he ran away from it?

He took another sip, his thoughts feeling excessively loud for the moment. "Well, Nixon Bannick. I came to get some coffee, journal my ever chaotic thoughts, sing, unintentionally, and experience the gorgeousness of Spring. It's my first Spring in this town, but god... it's something special." He grinned, nodding at her. "And what brings you here?"

[nixbannick]

"I am a wild thing but I wanted a home. I am wild and I want to be that and to belong to the greater group and have everyone know that my wildness is nothing but a bit of my colors and has nothing to do with whether or not I can be trusted."

Little weirds, Jenny Slate

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It was instinctive for Nix to reach out, too, which just created even more awkward contact, though this wasn't quite as 'knock you over' as 'keep you standing.' It was the kind she didn't feel as bad about. "Thank you," she returned. "I obviously agree. And it's only partway to really good news. Just... a second interview for a job. I'll go all out if I get it."

Cassie is and has always been painfully bad at minding her own business. She wouldn't say she eavesdrops per se, but any opportunity to start a conversation she'll take. There's little that will stop her from making a new friend, even one that bumps into her dancing through a bookstore. If anything, that's exactly the kind of friend she wants to make — someone who, upon first impression, seems to celebrate the little things.

"No, don't worry!" She insists immediately, hands out to steady herself. There's no danger of her tumbling over but it's instinctive from all the times she has. "You didn't at all. Congrats on the good news! Doesn't matter what it is, good news is always worth a celebratory dance." She'd join in herself if she didn't already know from experience that it can be a little weird.

[nixbannick]

"Well, it means I might be able to pay for them," Nixon said with a chuckle. "But I'm pretty sure the charge for a 'might have' is pretty low anyway." As soon as the words were out, it occurred to her that wasn't exactly the case. How many times had her husband needed imagining of some kind to rule out a fracture or torn something or other? His team always managed it, but in the real world it wasn't as straightforward. She wasn't spiraling into this conversation. "Maybe I could just buy you a coffee to make up for almost running into you? It was probably terrifying at the very least. Caffeine could help. If you want."

major was not a regular patron of the bookstore half of white rabbit. however, his mom had asked him to pick up her order on his way home and who was he to tell his mother no ? he's in his own little world when his body ALMOST collides with another, being missed by mere inches. "i hope that good news dance was worth the hospital bills you'll be paying for... might have broken my toe." the grin on his face indicates that he's most definitely lying, but he can't help but pull somebody else's leg.

[nixbannick]

It was probably bad-friend of her to suggest Fiona take time out of her day to meet Nix at a book store/coffee shop. But they had more than just coffee and it was less expensive than a full-on restaurant. While she wasn't exactly counting nickels and dimes yet, she knew she probably better rein things in where she could even before it was a huge problem.

Her smile doubled from hesitantly polite to good humor and familiarity. "Maybe!" She chirped. "But then I'd feel like I had to at least take my bra off or something." She returned the half hug and pulled back slightly to shrug. "Second interview! It might even be a job I'd consider taking," she admitted, falsely dreamy. "More than that, it's something productive to do. I've read nine books since I got back. I'm thinking about getting a cat just so someone can keep me accountable, but I killed my last plant so I'm not so sure a sentient creature is a smart level-up."

fiona loves reading, probably more than most people (with the exception of her best friend, nix), but spending her lunch break at white rabbit wasn't exactly what she had in mind when she brought the idea up to her friend. at least there was coffee.

a smile creeps onto her lips when she catches the sight of the blonde lost in her own rhythm. "you should be charging for that kind of performance, nix." she teases, greeting her friend with a half hug. "no, you're good. but, tell me about this news!"

[nixbannick]

When the person she'd been waiting for arrived, someone relatively safe even though this wasn't exactly a club, Nix offered a smile. "I believe it's free," she remarked, shifting slightly to the side. "The seat-warming ghost who occupied it apparently had a better offer." She nodded. "I tend to judge a place based on their ability to make this, so I appreciate you suggesting I go for it. They're good." She pressed her lips together, enjoying a small taste of her drink and glad to not be alone for the moment. "So how was your week? Must have been okay, maybe, if you're ordering your usual."

He'd only been living in Starlight Oaks for a few months, but Joe had already made himself a regular at Titan's. He'd gotten to the stage where he'd started chatting to people when he sat at the bar, and a few weeks ago, he'd started chatting to a young woman. She'd asked him what there was to drink, and he'd assured her that as long as it was quiet and they had the ingredients, the bartenders could make her anything she wanted, and do a great job. From there, conversation flowed... it had been a good night.

He hadn't expected to see her again, but when he walked into Titan and saw her at the bar, Joe was glad he did. He greeted her with a sheepish smile, taking in her expression and body language. "This seat taken?" He asked, taking it after he could tell it was okay. The bartender came over, and he ordered an Negroni, then turned towards her.

"So... You must've enjoyed your drink last time. I told you, they do a good job, huh?"

[nixbannick]

Nix didn't have a fine-tuned musical ear. She'd played a few instruments, dreamed of being something aesthetic like a world-famous pianist, or maybe one of those piano bar artists who could play any song on request, or first chair in an orchestra. Alas. She was relegated now, heading into her thirties, as primarily just a recreational listener. As such, she didn't think she needed compensation for listening to him. But she wasn't going to argue. "I think that was their aim, though, so the dynamics worked themselves out, I suppose," she quipped lightly. "I think... maybe that kind of pain and conflict is what makes the most timeless music. However unfortunate that is. It seems like it all comes from a place of strong emotion, regardless." She laughed when he mentioned liquid courage greasing his voice, though. She understood that. "I'm the same." She reached across to take his hand. "Nixon Bannick," she countered, stumbling over the last name she'd only resumed using since her move with an unusually timed pause. At least she hadn't gotten a syllable out this time. "Likewise. What brings you here today, Aaron?

@aaronjacoblevy

"Please sit! I insist. If you had to listen to me sing, you may as well get something out of it, anyhow." He chuckled, but the blush still laced his cheeks. He had a lovely voice, sure. He had worked in musicals over the years, although he much preferred dramas. And even with that professional background, he still felt silly performing off the stage. This hadn't even been intentional... he simply found himself away with the fairies, more often than not. It wasn't even feigning modesty... he too was unaware of the sheer capacity of his talents.

As she sat, he smiled as he nodded. "Look, Stevie really did one with Dreams, and I will be the first to acknowledge it. The dynamics of Fleetwood Mac are less than ideal, I suppose. But fuck me, they made excellent music." He waved her off, sighing, but there was still a bit of mischief in his eyes. "Now that I'm aware, you'd have to get me liquid courage first. Unless I'm stuck in my own head, songs don't come for free." He sat up, extending his hand. "Aaron Levy. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[nixbannick]

“But still, no matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away. They remain with us forever, like a touchstone.”

— Haruki Murakami, Kafka on the Shore

[nixbannick]

And every timе I run away, you’re never far bеhind And any time I’m feeling safe, you gotta wrong that right I gotta get along with life but you're still on my mind So if you’re asking how I’ve been, I’m gonna have to lie Cause it’s gonna be a long, long time

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The bibliophile in Nixon had been strong since her return to town, if only because she didn't have a television or a job. She was only tentatively reaching out to people she'd known in what now felt like another life. Her broken heart didn't really know how to do it any faster than she was, and she almost refused to apologize for it. There were people she hadn't left with their relationships in the best condition and she lived with some degree of trepidation about running into them. The guy singing in the middle of the book shop café was not one of them and she stopped to listen (not staring. She definitely wasn't staring.)

There was just nowhere to sit with her coffee and new book, and he was singing. Gorgeously. Some part of her needed to just listen and to try to remember what that lack of inhibition felt like. She'd spent too many days in a row with her head down in this place for her own comfort, eschewing both sympathy for present circumstances and chiding for past sins.

"I do need a seat," she acknowledged. She hesitated another moment before accepting and sitting down. She let his stammering explanation die down a little before she offered her own opinion. "It was probably the highlight of my day, so I'm glad you didn't apologize for it. Fleetwood Mac is a jam, but I'm more of a Dreams girl myself. Nothing against Christine McVie, though, of course. What a legend. If I sit here long enough, are you likely to unintentionally serenade me again? I could make some requests."

location: white rabbit bookstore & café

status: OPEN [ @starteroaks ]

It was the perfect afternoon. Spring was starting to take root, and Aaron could've sworn he heard birds chirping. Like something out of a fucking fairytale. He had taken up the hobby of journaling... his therapist was a big fan, but he thought it would be nice to get some fresh air, and caffeination wouldn't hurt. So, like many weekend afternoons of the last year, he found himself sitting at a table at White Rabbit, pen clicking idly in his hand.

There was a hot black coffee in front of him, which he occasionally remembered was there. Maybe it was nearing tepid, but he had other things to focus on. Like self-reflection, and sunshine, and the music playing in his headphones. "I never did believe in the ways of magic, but I'm beginning to wonder why...."

He felt a pair of eyes on him, and he blinked, before slipping his headphones off, giving them a sheepish grin. "Did you need a seat? That chair is absolutely free!" He took a moment, realizing, blushing. "Oh... shit... was I singing? I... hm. I do that sometimes. When I'm distracted. And god, when Christine Mcvie is serenading me... I mean, Fleetwood Mac really gets me going, you know?"

[nixbannick]

"They are," Nix agreed, running her fingertips over them one more time for good measure. "I've been thinking about trying to brighten up my place, but I'm not sure this the way. For exactly the same reason. I kept a peace lily alive for about a month in Minnesota, but I went out of town for week and that was the end of that." She glanced over at the other. "Have you ever thought about subscribing for delivery so you don't necessarily have to keep them alive to have them for a little while?"

STATUS: open starter! (@starteroaks)

LOCATION: outside of celestial petal

"these flowers are all so beautiful" nadia says to the other, she'd been looking at them for a good few minutes now. she was particularly drawn to the bouquets of brightly coloured tulips, "it's a shame that i can never keep any kind of plant alive, otherwise i'd buy some".

[nixbannick]

who: open | @starteroaks (capped at 4) when: early afternoon, today where: white rabbit bookstore

Nix knew this 'wasn't the place,' but she'd gotten a second interview for the first time in a month. It was one she desperately needed, or she was going to have to start considering odds and ends kinds of jobs. The interest from investing Finn's life insurance wasn't going to sustain her long-term. It was barely making ends meet now.

So, yeah, maybe she got a little celebratory. In a bookstore. On a Wednesday.

All fun and games until she blatantly cut someone off, noticing only by the hum of 'another person' in the air. She'd save the debate about whether you could sense another body just because bodies put off a sound or a palpable energy. "Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to get in your way. I got news that could be considered good news and it's worth a little dance. I didn't step on you or anything, right?"

[nixbannick]

who: closed | @josephconway when: friday night where: titan grill & restaurant

This was exactly the kind of place she would've come with Finn, Nixon thought for not the first time as she glanced around. Given his traveling schedule, their date nights weren't regular or even particularly frequent. But this restaurant was everything they collectively agreed on, so it would've been a hit. That was probably why, even though she came in every Friday evening religiously, it was to sit at the bar instead of anywhere else. She kept her head down, her eyes mostly in the one drink (sometimes two, tops) she ordered, and left without saying a word to much of anyone.

It was important to be out in the world and to remember the world existed, her therapist had claimed. This was her doing her best. It had changed a little over the last couple of weeks, though. Another bar-sitter, someone she didn't remember from growing up, someone who didn't remember her from high school. The conversation had actually been pretty interesting, too, if more superficial at first obviously. She wasn't quite optimistic enough to order a drink for him, but she had gently requested two other people fuck off and leave the seat next to her vacant.