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lcofowler‌:

“Yo!” Hunkered away from the bustle of the party, Leo waved the familiar face closer with a large grin on his face, “I think they were planning on setting off fireworks later. That shed behind me has, like - here, here, look,” Thrusting his hand out from behind his back, Leo struck a pose that should have been equipped with a dramatic Tada!, two separate fireworks in hand. Women posing with prizes on Wheel of Fortune were practically put to shame, “I’m gonna light it. You in?”

Wavering between places - and planes, possibly - she had drifted to the edge, an examination of the party from afar in all its glory and an inconsistent trail of flowers following her with every step. They spilled from her hair, mostly, as they became untangled from her careful braids, like she’d been entwining ribbons instead. “Hello, Leo,” Philly greeted, drawing near, smile natural and comfortable, one that grew at the very sight of the rockets. “That was an excellent magic trick,” she replied, reaching forward and lifting the firework from his nearest hand in a sort of silent agreement, not a moment’s hesitation, “You would make a good magician. Have you ever considered it?”

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teddylawrence‌:

After splitting off from the people he’d arrived with, Teddy had wandered on his own to explore the luxurious surroundings of the garden party. It’d been a while since he found someone he recognized again, popping into their face seemingly out of nowhere to blow a party horn in their face, the unfurling paper attached to it bonking the other on their nose, “Oops - surprise, found you!” he shouted, shaking a porcelain tea cup in front of their face next, “How. Fucking. Cute, right? And look what they say inside -,” Tipping the cup forward, Teddy gasped when liquid sloshed out and landed on their feet, completely forgetting that he’d filled the tea cup with whatever he could find, “Fuck, sorry - oh, see? It says drink me!”

Philly arrived alone - and barefoot, though neither were surprising - she rarely attended parties in pairs, or groups; it was easier that way to drift from person to person, to come and go as she pleased without concerning others, for her own comfort - mostly. And she didn’t like shoes. Terribly restrictive, too much so. Like tiny jail cells on her feet - might as well have poured cement on them. “I’m found,” she replied - her only reaction a blink and a smile, eyes peering down and body giving a subconscious lean towards what Teddy meant to show her - or maybe just a sway, like a little willow’s branch - too rooted to jump away from the spilling liquid in time, “It’s alright, Teddy, maybe flowers will sprout out from it? That’d be very clever.” Philly nodded, then, glancing back up from the teacup, “They have treats that say eat me, too. I’ve had three, so far, because if something is asking you to eat it then you should - it’s only polite.”

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eliaspaxton‌:

“Look at my ass anytime, Philly. In the name of science.” Snorting, Elias crossed his arms and shook his head. “Won’t let that happen to you. No tails are being chopped on my watch. Anyway, it… Where the fuck did that come from?” Momentarily, Eli forgot not to ask. There were little things the other did sometimes that you just had to brush past because you wouldn’t get a direct answer anyway. “Hockey starts up again. In season, games and shit… Gotta be able to breathe to full capacity.”

“That’s very courageous of you,” she noted, sliding her lighter back into its rightful place - if it’d lit, somehow, while in her sleeve - that’d be on her, and she knew it, and she accepted it. A burned elbow and charred sleeve was an acceptable consequence. “I haven’t the slightest clue,” Philly blinked, drawing her cigarette away from her, “Oh - if any teeth are knocked out on the ice, will you collect them for me? I’d do it myself, but at my last college I was promptly escorted off the ice and out of the arena. Very authoritarian. Protested for weeks to no avail - no teeth.”

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rosasamuels‌:

The look of horror on Rosa’s face wasn’t towards how Philly had snatched the popsicle out of her hand - if anything, that was merely entertaining - but over the fact that she’d easily bitten into the ice cold treat with her teeth, “Ew, Philly, did that not hurt?” she asked, hand hovering her own mouth, teeth throbbing just thinking about it, “It looks like blood when it stains. You, like, a fan of blood or something?” Glancing down at Philomena’s shoes, Rosa had to narrow her eyes to properly glance at the patterns on them - she’d stubbornly refused thus far to get a pair of glasses she desperately needed, “They’re yellow. With drawings. Am I colour blind?”

"Did what not hurt?” With her brows drawn up and furrowed, Philly finished gnashing the posicle between her teeth - turning it to slush, “It’s too bright to be confused for blood. It’s just neat.” She wiped at her mouth with the back of her hand, orange smudges left in the corners - same as the stains left on her tongue, eyes peering down at her own shoes as to confirm the color they were. “You’ve passed the check. Maybe you’ve just got bad eyesight. You squint a lot.” Philly squinted at Rosa, like she needed glasses of her own (she did not), a means of emphasizing her point.

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rosasamuels‌:

“You want the other half?” Rosa asked, pulling apart her popsicle and handing one of the frozen treat covered sticks out towards Philly, “Orange is the worst flavour. Like, I’m still gonna eat it, but my taste buds are probably gonna complain the entire time. Thought it was cherry. Looked red through the packaging. Maybe I’m colour blind.” @philcmena​

"I like orange,” Philly leaned forward, accepting the popsicle by biting into it and pulling it out of Rosa’s grasp - apparently unbothered by the cold. Biting the tip fully off, Philly finally grasped it by the stick,  chewing as she spoke, “I don’t like cherry, but I like how it stains. Tritanopia is a rare form of colorblindness, Rosa. What color are my shoes?” She stuck out her legs, wiggling her feet - they were yellow, basic shapes hand-drawn and colored in with the other two primary colors, the occasional clown face scribbled - all happy, or excited.

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eliaspaxton‌:

“Did you just ask to see my ass in private? Philomena, you dog!” Amused, he glanced at the cigarette and politely waved a hand to decline. “Honestly, I probably shouldn’t. Gotta keep my lungs healthy for practice in January,” he said with a dramatic sigh. “Good question… You give me a Doberman vibe. What do their tails look like?”

“Only in the pursuit of science, purely analytical.” It was easy to forget that Philomena was a scientist-to-be, first and foremost - even with her multitude of beliefs and superstitions - she’d never liked separating the two, both halves equally important in her composition. Both muddled up, opposites blended into one another. “Long with a natural upwards curl, but most are docked. I wouldn’t like to have my tail cut, though.” Lighting her cigarette - lighter having slid out from the end of her sleeve like a cheap magic trick, Philly tucked the cart back into her pocket and blew the smoke away from Elias. “What’s in January?”

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eliaspaxton‌:

“Don’t look at my luscious ass in public, Philly.” Scoffing, Elias shook his head. “You know me too well. Definitely a poodle tail. Two poofs. One in the centre and at the end. Very well-groomed.”

“In private, then?” There hadn’t been a tone of suggestion, just the raising of eyebrows as she picked at what he said, hands fumbling through her dress pockets until she produced a pack of cigarettes. Philly held it out, in offer, “Self-maintained?” She paused to pluck a cigarette for herself, “What tail would I have?”

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teddylawrence‌:

Lips pressed into a tight line, the jovial expression Teddy usually wore was missing, replaced with something incredibly forced whenever he had to make small talk amongst the party. He was as big a fan of Christmas as one could usually get, but something about this year had him feeling off in a way he couldn’t describe, more anxious about the holiday than anything else, “This party blows. I thought Californians were supposed to be, like, totally wild,” he complained, finishing the contents of his solo cup and nodding his head towards the kitchen, “Gonna do a shot. Maybe a line if I’m feeling crazy,” he teased, tone more bitter than anything else, “Try to, like, liven this shit up - you into tequila?”

“Stereotypes are very bad, Teddy,” it was a meaningless chide, one without force behind it, just a nudge of her arm against his as she sniffed-and-drank whatever contents they had filled her cup with at the makeshift bar. “Last time I had tequila I climbed on top of a fridge,” Philly took another hesitate sip - face contorting as she tried to separate the flavors. Nothing but sugar and the subtle hint of rubbing alcohol. “I think I was told I could fly, with it. I’m a very bad flier.” A momentary pause, and then she was poking at Teddy’s cheeks, “Are you alright, Teddy? Your face looks wrong. The party isn’t too terrible, though there’s no party hats, which really is a shame. They would’ve really been a hit. I should bring some, next time - yes?”

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eliaspaxton‌:

“Feeling a slight tingle in my coccyx,” he said, rubbing at his lower back obnoxiously as he stood casually in line for a corn dog. “Do you think I’m finally growing my tail?”

“Perhaps,” Philly replied, glancing at his behind - shamelessly, because she hadn’t meant it in a risque way, just simple curiosity - and tapping her nose in thought, “What kind of tail would you grow? I know we’re derived from primates, but I think yours would have a poof of hair at the end.”

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benjigates‌:

“Oh… I — Is Gunner not home yet?” Benji asked, glancing over Philly’s shoulder in a fit of anxiety. He pushed inside without much word, dropping his backpack on the couch. “Elias just tried to fucking… fucking stomp my face. Fully stomp it.” Exhaling, he took a deep breath and glanced over toward the kitchen. “Can I grab a water? Am I disturbing you?” @philcmena​

“No.” Came her reply - short and accompanied by a blink, craning her neck as her gaze followed him until her head wouldn’t turn any further, forced to whip back around - Philly closed the door and turned, fully, dull ache at her jugular. “Yes, and no.” She moved past Benji towards the kitchen - the cabinet handles had all been bedazzled, alongside a stick figure ‘family’ on the fridge in assorted color gems. Several rats and a raccoon trailed behind an orange rhinestone Bucket. The coffee pot - which she’d now been holding, pouring the contents into a pint glass - had also been bedazzled, at one point, but the heat had caused more than several gems fall off - a disjointed disco ball of a coffee pot. “What did you do?”

[philcmena-alt]

She’d developed an aversion to laying on the grass. There was nothing wrong with it - she’d done it a thousand times, maybe even a million - but lately she couldn’t help but imagine it - the parting of roots and the gradual give of dirt as the ground formed a perfectly Philomena-sized hole. Ready to swallow her whole. Ready for burial. So she resorted to the extra effort of carrying a blanket with her - ratty, holes chewed by wild animals she welcomed with open arms. She laid in the middle of the baseball field - corner of the campus, where the ground was firm and the grass was short if-not-fake and crunched appropriately beneath her back, beneath the barrier of blanket and clothes - and laid still, even as a small, striped snake had managed to find its way to her, entangling in her hair, splattered around her like she’d taken a bad fall - even when a human-sized shadow had cast itself down on her, the silhouette blocking her view of a changing sky. “Hello,” Philly greeted ( “Ssss,” greeted the snake, as well ), “you’re very tall and very obstructing. Have you two met?”

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lcofowler‌:

It felt a bit as if Leo’s brain was swimming through molasses - usually, he was thrilled to talk to Philly, and it wasn’t like now was an exception, but for some reason, he was having a harder time listening to her words. Blinking dopily at her for a few seconds, he almost choked on his drink when he finally sputtered, “What the hell, you were trained by a fire-breather?” Envy flooded through Leo’s veins, and he was automatically getting into Philly’s face, narrowing his eyes slightly - there was a quirk to his mouth though, an obvious sign that he didn’t want to smile and give his faux interrogation away, but it was impossible to hide his thoughts from Philly at the best of times, “You should prove it - that’d be so fuckin’ impressive,” Coming back to a proper stand, Leo almost missed when they’d been at an equal height - a somewhat equal height. Even when he’d been bent over, Leo still had about an inch on Philly. She was larger than life in his head, and it always made him forget that she was as short as she actually was, “Philomena Brontë Carmichael, that means the world to me. You’re a very grand party guest. I don’t really know anyone here, so I think it’s safe to say that you’re my favourite - you want a pill? Got a few more, was gonna take another soon.”

Blinking only once in response to her personal space being invaded, Philly gave a small nod, nose twitching as her straw scraped against the roof of her mouth - little thought put into the movement, a finger linking through one of the loops of the straw - purple, translucent, two loop-de-loops - as she pulled it away, “Very briefly. I only know how to swallow it.” Nearly immediately untangling her finger as soon as she had entwined it, she held it up - taking a single second to tap the tip of his nose with it, “I lost half my fingerprint and singed off my eyebrows, after. I think I’m going to burn the rest off. Safety precautions.” It’d been surprisingly easy to forget that she’d been on the road for the past several days, that she hadn’t slept in three of those, eyes following Leo’s as he rose back up - a curve of a smile, small and slight, one she couldn’t even feel herself, pulling at her. Her name echo’d back to her, and she twisted her straw, stirred her drink - she’d been scared of losing her name, once, as a child - heard it whispered through the wind, through the branches in her very own backyard until it’d been swept from her own mind. It’d only been her imagination - but she sat there, in the grass, like a robot that hadn’t yet been programmed. She was still scared, sometimes - admittedly so. “Okay,” Philly had hesitated, only for a second, hitting the bottom of her pineapple cup - fingers digging into the skin of the fruit, a glance behind Leo at the party around them and down, to make sure her feet were still firmly planted to the ground - before falling on him again, “what is it?”

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Bigfoot is NOT fake

She is kind and giving and my friend. I will protect her. Once she brought me a handful of leaves and smooth river stones and i said, thank you ..

[philcmena-alt]

lcofowler‌:

Flowery sunhat resting on his head, Leo was sucking down a rather fruity cocktail out of a pineapple glass, curly straw and all really setting the mood. After a day of touring around the Californian atmosphere in a somewhat desperate attempt to find a place that was hiring, Leo had somehow managed to befriend a band that’d been playing along the boardwalk. Of course, he wasn’t about to say no when they insisted on heading back to his for a party when they heard he lived along the beach - somehow, a group of four eventually turned into at least 20, strangers surrounding him and making him wonder idly if maybe he should’ve warned his roommates of the impromptu party, “Oh, hey!” he spluttered when he saw a familiar face, tripping over his own feet clumsily as he approached them - apparently, he was drunker than he thought, “You ever meet a fire-breather before? There’s one here somewhere - they’re totally nice, gave me a pill for free. When’d you get here?”

Philly hadn’t planned on stopping in Huntington Beach - she’d hardly known that she’d even arrived in the first place, a coincidence on top of a coincidence that she’d run out of gas in her somewhat illegally owned van in the very town her college had transferred to in mass - still enrolled, though she hadn’t been to classes in more than a week without warning. She missed two midterms, but that had been neither here nor there. “I was trained by one,” Philly replied - nonchalantly, sipping on a similarly curled straw (but not the same - variety pack!) and a matching pineapple glass, both hands clutching the fruit firmly as if it could slip her grip any moment - one of them had been bandaged, loosely. She had abandoned her jacket, too, too heavy for the California air - on top of a bush outside. It also could’ve been a person disguised as a bush, but she hadn’t cared to examine it. “Oh, I don’t know.” True for both when she arrived in town and for when she arrived at the party - she had spent the better of twenty minutes braiding the hair of a stranger, who had in turn thrown glitter in her face. A fair and even trade. “This is a very grand party, and this is a very grand drink. You’re a very grand party host, Leo.”

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bcvflxn‌:

“Look at these!” she smiled, sitting down for microbio and gesturing to the little wildflowers she picked on her way to school.  Even the nature was nicer than California - nothing was really dying like it did in New York, as the harsher seasons were more subdued.  Beverly gave Philly a little bouquet as she sat down, waiting for class to start, and dusted off some of the pollen that escaped the flowers, onto her leggings.  “Can you believe it, I’m wearing flip flops in November.  And my feet aren’t cold!  I love this, I didn’t realize how much I missed warm Florida until I came to warm Cali.  Don’t you just love it?  The plants do!” *// @philcmena​

“Flip flops were created by the government in order to create a world-wide-web feet database.” Philly had spoken absentmindedly, only half paying attention as she fidgeted with the stems of the wildflowers, knotting them together into a rope. She did not elaborate on why the government would need their feet, or how they’d access said feet via flip flops. “California is shaped funny,” was all she’d said in reply, a subtle nose twitch as she ran a hand through her hair - only to produce a lone caterpillar. It was unknown as to how long it’d been in her hair, but she had apparently known about it. Philly let it crawl on the table. “Thank you for the flowers,” she said after a moment of too long silence, “this is Moses. He’s a companion and a friend.”