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[prismagpie]

Ash had always figured that the next time he set foot in this place, it would be because he was getting that tattoo for which he'd spend so long saving. Instead, he was bidding a premature farewell to a decent chunk of those savings and all because of a botched lip piercing. This is what he got for trusting Mindy's bold claims that they knew what they were doing. He'd been doubtful to start with but he figured he ought to trust a friend, despite their glaring lack of license, and save some cash while he was at it. Besides, they'd done plenty of reckless things together so far and never faced any consequences. Turns out things are different when the thing being put at risk is your own face. The worst part of it all had been when he first laid eyes on his reflection and the sight of Mindy standing proud behind him. Ash had never been the best at hiding his emotions but, this time, he'd put every muscle in his body to work just to make sure they didn't catch wind of how badly he needed to grimace. (He didn't want to upset them; he'd already found himself on thin ice months back, in a moment he'd personally dubbed the Egg Incident, and it had been stressful for everyone involved.)

He'd slunk into the parlour, boasting all the confidence of a scolded dog with its tail between its legs, with his coat collar pulled high and a hand cupped over one side of his mouth. This hand was not lowered until Atticus had started trailing off, this being the point at which Ash knew he'd have to come clean. The breath that escaped him then was the weary sigh of a deeply embarrassed man. It had been a while since he'd last spoken to Atticus, maybe not since the New Year's party last year when Atticus had caught him spitting wine back into his glass. "Yeah, yeah, I know, quit laughing," Ash scowled, before adding, more desperately, "Dude, you gotta close it up. It's fuckin' crooked." He pointed an accusing finger at the hole, as though the damage weren't obvious on its own.

Ash pulled off his jacket, hung it up on the nearest hook and then slumped, defeated, into the chair, poking listlessly at the lopsided hole in his lower lip the whole while. "I want to take a look at the options but going with what I want's what got me here," he said, staring up at the ceiling, even though the overhead lights were stinging his eyes. "So let's go with a basic ring. I can't screw that up." There was a short pause. "You think it'll scar?"

@prismagpie ; lightning griffin tattoo

He'd been tuning out a confute from the next room over, presumably between his foster father and a difficult party that another artist had requested intervention. Fingers danced and entangled in the buoyant earring swaying near his chin whilst his pencil danced a few strokes across the page he was working on, boredom chipping his expression. The soundless alert to another presence beetling on and off overhead prompted his grey eyes to turn upward, then to his appointment book laid out in front of him, and greeting, "Ash... Long time, no see. I think." At least, it wasn't any of the unctuous walk-ins he'd been getting for consults. "And you're wanting..." Tilting his head to the side as he read over the descriptor, he looked back to the cashier, his expression unvacillating as to not betray the moderate judgement passive of the lopsided hole in his lip. Amusement did betray him evanescently, attempting to steer it to make light of the unfortunate display. "I suppose if it doesn't close up all the way, you can make up a story about it. We can at least place a new one correctly." The pen spun around his fingertips, pushing the chair back and gesturing toward the sterilized chair in the middle of his cubicle. "Have a seat, if you want. Do you want to look at options for the starting jewelry or stick with something basic and sterling silver?"

[prismagpie]

Ash grimaced despite himself. It was weird, he was pretty sure that, if they had threatened to kick him in the balls, he might not have paid it any mind. That one was kind of a cliché, so overused that it barely meant anything. But getting kicked in the dick? That was specific. That was targeted. Blinking awkwardly and sucking in his lips, Ash shoved his hands into the pockets of his coats. “My head's not even that big,” was the only comeback he could muster in the moment. But she didn't exactly spare him much time for sulking either. He barely had time to blink before she'd taken hold, only uttering a rough 'holy shit' by way of reaction. It had all happened so quickly, the grabbing and the releasing, that he briefly lost his orientation and half-stumbled over his feet, catching himself at the last minute. If he'd slipped any harder, he might just have landed ass-first in the dirt without a single shove. However, there was a strange euphoria that had come with the realisation he was still on two feet and, with a Cheshire cat grin, he leaned to one side and said, “Hasn't killed me yet. I'm pretty good at getting out of scrapes.” This wasn't entirely untrue either. Ash was scrappy, and his upbringing had made an escape artist out of him.

The grin, however, was short-lived. It had been wiped from his face in almost an instant, its place taken by the sort of furrowed brow that ought to have been reserved for things like riddles or excessive mathematical problems. Somebody else might have picked up on Mei-xie's awkwardness and responded with careful tact. Ash was not somebody else. “I brought you 'cause I wanted to hang out with you,” he said, although it was spoken almost like a question, as though her confusion had him doubting his own thoughts. “Y'know, 'cause you're my friend and I like hanging out with you.” Yet, even for all the confidence behind those words right now, it wasn't like Ash had the whole friendship thing down pat either. "Why d'you care what some dumb kids think?" asked Ash. He may have missed the point, by quite some margin. "Everything they think is cool right now, they're gonna find lame in five years." Being embarrassed by your teen self was pretty much a rite of passage, as far as he was convinced. “Besides, that's the whole point,” he said, “I show you how it works and, because I've shown you, you don't suck. What I'm trying to say is I wanna teach you.” He glanced back over his shoulder and saw the family before them finally finish up their turn and leave, the clumsy kid at the front marching off happily with a small stuffed bear in their arms. A parent had won it for them, no doubt. As a teenager, sights like those had sparked a bitterness in him and he'd only ever been able to scowl. But, now, the adult Ash couldn't help but let out a small laugh. He stepped up to the stall, ushering for Mei-xie to follow him. “Look, let's make a deal; you watch me, figure out how this works and then you give it a try,” said Ash, before turning to the stall manager to hand over his game fee. He picked up the ball, readied his arm to aim, and threw. Ash knew he was good at this game. He'd won it plenty of times and he'd just spent the last ten minutes in the queue gauging today's set-up. But he was no good under pressure. It was his own fault, really, for telling Mei-xie to watch him. He didn't even know if she was watching him but the thought that she might be was enough to throw him off his game. He looked on in muted horror as the ball whooshed just south of his target, bounced off the shelf board and ricocheted back to Ash, where it hit him square in the forehead.

Then you're not a threat. Chagrin fueled by the other's stubborn ego, they put their hands on their hips, intrinsic to fire antagonizations that were mostly empty of malice, "Am I not a threat still, if I kick you in the dick? I think it'd get you down to my level, with that big head you got on your shoulders." Narrowed eyes lessened the certitude that it was, in fact, a playful jest — the whole sharing is caring lesson had gone over their head when they were younger, and skipping seven steps straight to adulthood and an every bitch out for themselves decade in captivity didn't mollify their paucity of remorse. Frankly, a gust of wind in the merciless climate would've knocked Ash over, just as easily. Thus, there was a triumphant smirk to tug at their lips the second that he backtracked on his own exhorting. For good measure, she stepped forward, breaking her own rulebook of personal space for favor of sheer jest. Arms swung out in front of her, the movement ample as her fingers locked around the sides of his own coat, and digging her heels into the ground. Nothing could have usurped the temporal power she might have over the other — but she didn't really desire to knock him to the ground. Thus, Mei-xie's palms loosened, affirming, "Your mouth's gonna get you killed." And theirs, too.

"Why'd you bring me here if you didn't want to impress me, or something?" There was a sincere perplexity complicating their voice, their expression contorting unreadably as Mei-xie cast their eyes around. They tried to deduce the second or... third probabilities otherwise. Was Ash trying to embarrass her? If not options A and B... what then? The taste of metal welled up inside their mouth as she pulled a chunk of skin from her bottom lip by digging incisors into it, sequestering herself deeper into the vestiges of a ratty, thread-worn jacket that hardly ousted the elements away from their person. I could show you the works, though. She took a step back, glancing between him and the carnival booth. It was their turn to withdraw inwardly. The bubbling cauldron that sloshed around in their stomach was slow to boil, the simmering reaching to their nose and matching the peach tint of their lips. "I'm... not good at much. I don't know if I should. Those kids behind us are gonna laugh when I suck." Ironic of a game attendant that had to day in, day out, explain a game that was the intermediate version of bowling. And with the hyperawareness of their cochlear implant, they'd hear every insult to their wounded pride. "I think I'm better off watching you win."

[prismagpie]

“Likewise,” said Ash, sticking out his chin and cocking his head, his best attempt made to banish any hint of anxious giddiness from his face. “I'm doing this whole thing in good faith, got it? If this goes to shit for one of us, it goes to shit for us both. No jumping overboard.” Yet, despite the somewhat intense word choice, Ash spoke with a playful grin and threw his hand out first for a handshake, until he remembered how he felt about those and pivoted for a high-five instead. After all, he was pretty eager to get this show on the road. Lately, he'd been feeling particularly restless. That was how Anchorage was. Someone could vanish one day, they could even turn up dead the next, but eventually life would continue as normal. And Ash was a little bored of life. A risky task like this, with all trust placed in the palms of a total stranger, was the perfect boredom-killer.

He kept his eyes fixed on the liner too, trying to memorise its position on the shelf so he could return to it quickly later. It was only a shelf above the black liner he'd been planning on swiping. The hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand on edge and the impending adrenaline rush had him wondering if he shouldn't just grab more than planned, just because he could. Ash was an excellent thief but nobody ever said he was sensible. Still, without so much as flinching, Ash let the lipstick fall into his palm and then down the sleeve of his jacket. Moments like these were why he'd never had any complaints in his life about sleeves being a little too long. Nothing was a problem if you could make good use of it, right? “Safe and sound,” he said, with a satisfied, close-lipped smile, that could have almost been described as smug if it weren't so well-meaning. ”Well, I'll leave you to it.” And then, in a mock-dramatic stage whisper, he added, “Go break a leg.”

Satisfied at Ash's response, Ava allowed a self-assured grin to slip past her mask of rehearsed nonchalance, confident to know that at least she wasn't in the presence of a snitch. Maybe a team-up would be in their best interest after all. "Good to know. 'Cause if you were planning on ratting me out for this, I have no issues taking you down with me," she threatened just under her breath, flicking silken raven locks over her shoulder for good measure. Though the young Adler's days of swiping things from stores just for the thrill of it had cooled down considerably since her wilder years of teenage rebellion, as the adage goes, old habits die hard. In an odd way, it felt nice to be in total control of something for once, especially with everything going on around town recently. Maybe it was a bad coping mechanism (certainly not the healthiest or most productive outlet), but giving into her hedonistic tendencies felt strangely anchoring when she felt restless and uncertain about her life.

Raising a brow at his challenge, an impish grin threatened to disrupt her cool façade, but she managed to maintain her unaffected veneer. For a girl that was usually urged to tone herself down, accused of being far too much for most, Ash's urging that she should set her sights on more was a refreshing change of pace. "Oh, you'll never have to twist my arm to go bigger, trust me," Ava assured her fellow recreational thief, eyes already scanning the nearby displays for something to add to her haul. Noticing a vampy white gel eyeliner that she'd love to add to her stash, the brunette raised a brow, saddling up next to her companion. "I happen to be an expert at causing a scene, and I can talk my way out of a paper bag, so I can totally be the decoy. You just have to promise to grab me a white liquid liner. And keep this safe for me," the hairdresser replied, discreetly transferring the lipstick bullet in her pocket into his hand, nimble fingers making quick work of the subtle sleight of hand.

[prismagpie]

“I've never been anywhere hot,” Ash said, with a certain confidence to his voice and posture that was likely unearned, an air of worldliness that was easily betrayed by the words that were actually coming out of his mouth. “I figured I'd probably get heat stroke or something. In, like, two days flat.” He swung up two fingers in a peace sign gesture, by way of emphasis. His penchant for layered outfits with oversized pieces had already caused enough problems with overheating in the relatively mild Anchorage summers. “But that's only 'cause I've never left Alaska. Although I'd like to. Feels a little messed up that there's a whole world out there but I gotta spend each and every day stuck behind a desk, selling records.” He paused, swinging one leg over the other as he settled into a more comfortable perch on the stool. “I don't even own a record player.” Ash wasn't one for great change either, although an awful lot of of it had been thrust upon him over the years. Change could be a stressful but it had never really occurred to Ash that a truly easy life was even an option, at least not for anybody who wasn't filthy rich. Or a hermit. Or anybody who else who was totally removed from common society, whatever the reason for it might have been. But he still would like to see the world some day, at least some of it. Ash had never really felt like he fit in here.

Ash looked about himself, taking in the shelving units and poster-plastered walls he'd gotten used to seeing every single day. None of this was novel to him any more so he'd forgotten how any of it might look, or feel, to anybody else. If pushed to give an honest answer, Ash would have to admit he was bored of these sights. He'd never wanted to be the kind of person who settled on whatever job was handed to him but there weren't a whole lot of opportunities for someone like him. It was enough that he had any job at all. “It's a lot less corporate than all the other places I've worked,” he offered. “My first ever job was over at Giant and that was...” He trailed off, opting to grimace instead. He was sure his expression spoke for itself. “Cool, it sounds like you've really found a home there,” said Ash, his intrigue terribly sincere. “Is it ever scary, y'know? Performing in front of all those people?”

Two open-faced hands raised defensively, though Hermione couldn't say for certain they were convinced that a payphone would ever be a vital piece of technology they need utilize in their life. They were still plenty young, though. Perhaps when the world was truly ending. "I suppose," they agreed, only to caution themselves and stray on the polite side — this conversation was going well, not yet having soured, and they would savor that for as long as they could. "Oh, I don't think I could live without a bit of cold. It's my natural habitat," they jested in return. Truly, the only change they appreciated came in the art of theatre; in improv, in the shift of an octave, that sort of thing. If it concerned the real world, the actor simply wasn't interested, fearing it would put them too much off-kilter for their own liking, and no one would want to bear witness to the sight of them collapsing in their kitchen over something like the weather outside their door.

They plucked up a record that had an eye-catching sleeve. While knowing nothing of the genre or its contents, they thought it would make an excellent addition aesthetically to their collection, so they tucked it underneath their arm for later purchasing. "Nicer? I'm certain. The atmosphere is too calming for anyone to get upset over," they said decidedly while sweeping their surroundings with their gaze. "Not sure how anyone could throw a fit with Bob Dylan serenading you." They hadn't anticipated the mention of their job to have garnered much interest, but they were pleased nonetheless to speak on it. "Well, magnificent, if I do say so myself. I've been a part of a few companies, but none quite like Single Carrot. They actually listen to my ideas there. It's a rare thing, especially for young people. I've never felt more understood."

[prismagpie]

Ash had never really understood the bond between a parent and their child, given that his relationship with his only present parent had been largely conditional. If Ash did his job right, he was a son worth keeping around. If he failed, he was as good to his father as a sheepdog who couldn't control a herd. His mother had willingly left the picture before he was even old enough to remember her and he'd often wondered, in those tender childhood years, if she regretted it. If she thought of him too, if she missed him enough to ever return. He'd never know the answer now, not since he'd run away from her one attempt to reach out.

Ash shuffled awkwardly on the spot for a moment and then, realising that he wasn't going to get through the pathway as easily as he'd hoped, gave up on his grand escape. Nobody had really seen him take anything and he'd never been under any impression that anybody had been hot on his trail so it seemed like a pretty safe bet. He glanced back over his shoulder and then back at the woman in front of him, even considered running back off the way he came and taking the long route home, but it was his conscience that kept him glued to the spot.

“Er...do you think that, maybe, the arm thing happened after that?” said Ash, eyes fixed on the woman's feet. He didn't maintain eye contact very well at the best of times, although most people seemed satisfied enough with him watching their mouths instead, but staring at the ground felt safer somehow. Worse still, he'd spoken a little bluntly and suggested the ideal almost as though it were obvious, as though an idiot could figure it out. That wasn't how he felt but his natural tone seemed to tend towards the unhelpfully matter-of-fact. His awareness of this had only increased in recent months, after a good few social fuck ups. And this was all putting aside the fact that Ash had no clue who Willow was to the broken soul stood before him. If he had known all that, he probably would have run off, even if just to keep himself from saying too much. Alas, there was no such luck to be had here today. “I mean, I'm only saying that 'cause I don't remember them saying that either. But I guess the idea of someone chopping the arm off a dead body is even worse, huh? That's real creepy, even for Anchorage.”

it had been a while in the works but she'd managed it - josette leighton had ruined herself, now on repeat. she couldn't think as to why she'd ever been respectable in her field, respected anywhere. matthew was right and she so badly wanted to tell him we was right but she couldn't. she'd had his child in her early twenties and had felt guilty about it when he had been with her but now she was dead, everything felt different. matthew wasn't a nice person but josette felt like he'd cared about her, truly cared about her until that night that seemed to start off her emergency room visits. the reaction was because he thought she'd been dustin's, sworn some less than warranted expletives at her both before and while he did harm... he could never know the truth.

widening her eyes at the other, josette tossed her head back. "makes no sense. any of it. she was already found, okay? you would think that they would have mentioned a body part being missing but-" she'd been against her a moment that she'd never ever experience again and she was at least meant to believe that she'd done the right thing - she hadn't. "why did they have to do that?" she could feel the tears gathering. josette was clinging on to the old memories she'd had with amelia and it was breaking her. the woman would feel somewhat normal and the think of that baby, or see a baby and want to burst into tears - it wasn't normal but nothing could have prepared her for this.

[prismagpie]

QUICK ASH EDITS ( 05 / ?? )

[prismagpie]

WHERE: unspecified woodland path near a park WHEN: late feb WHO: josette leighton ( @jofms )

It was a pretty average afternoon for Ash Yoon. Despite insisting, to those who knew him, he was a reformed thief, the truth was that this fact only really extended as far as the burglaries and heists he was sent off on as a child. Swiping shit from store shelves, however, still came to him as natural as breathing and nobody had ever caught him the act. Sometimes he went to great lengths to keep it this way, such as today wherein he'd marched casually out of the shop at the first instance of someone looking at him strangely and then, as soon as he'd crossed the threshold of the sliding doors, he bolted down the street as quickly as his legs could carry him. Maybe he'd reacted a little too quickly but he wasn't a fan of taking chances. Ash fancied himself something like a rat, or maybe a ferret; once they found something they wanted to snatch, there was no prying it from their little jaws. And, so, Ash ran. He ran until he reached a small patch of woodland; there was a little-known pathway hidden through the trees that could be used to cut through the nearby park and avoid the long walk around the nearby residential blocks. The only problem was that, when he got to the entrance of his secret pathway, it was blocked by a strange figure.

"Hey, lady, are you gonna take up the whole path? Some people are trying to--" Make a quick getaway. He couldn't very well say that one out loud. Ash hadn't made it through life as a successful thief by expressing his intentions out loud, not even in vague terms. “Why are you even hanging around in a place like this?” he asked, frowning. “You heard what happened up near Pinnella Pass, right?” They'd found a human arm. Chilling. This place was a lot close to the centre of town and was therefore a little less likely to be home to bits and pieces of buried corpses but he'd figured most people would have liked to avoid anywhere with a lot of trees for a while, just out of association (not to mention the startled wildlife wreaking havoc across town). “Yuck,” he added, visibly shuddering.

[prismagpie]

Sensing that Mindy was perhaps sick of Ash's need to get all the facts and details straight before he could focus, he decided against arguing that he thought he did have a decent answer to the question of his parentage, if only because he had no qualms about telling everyone his shitty dad vanished into the night. The entire trailer park had known. It hadn't taken him long enough to work through the weird embarrassment that came with everyone who had known him suddenly treating him as a walking tragedy. After all that, telling people the truth had stopped feeling all that awkward. This was clearly not a reality to which Mindy could relate. Being a true blue orphan sounded way more complicated. But, because he was too busy trying to split his thoughts and feelings between Mindy's predicament and his own goo-driven discomforts, there was no way for him to script out a way to say that effectively or without sounding increasingly pedantic, so he decided it was probably best that he didn't say it at all.

Ash stopped dead in his tracks and watched Mindy with a strange look on his face, a mixture of confusion and frustrated resignation. “That was him?” asked Ash, speaking with all the energy of a man who hadn't slept in a week. Although Ash was unaware of the 'bitch' in question's identity, it was notable that Fallon's apartment was fairly close to Ash's, something he'd been made keenly aware of ever since the day she'd pulled a knife on him at the Giant; they'd run into each other in the stairwell a bunch of times and not one of those times had Ash figured out to behave like someone who didn't want stabbed. “I heard that shit from down the hall but I just shoved my headphones on and put my shit at full volume. I didn't realise there was a whole boss battle going down.” Ash had now added another item to his list of One-Sided Beefs, with this Benny guy taking a comfortable low spot, several points below Peppy's Pizzeria and the dreaded Goo. Or maybe he was still riled up from Mindy's false goo claims and he hadn't quite come down from it yet.

Mindy's response had surprised him and, in that surprise, he sat up straight from where he'd been slouched on the couch, the awkward look of having fucked up written clear across his face. He was too surprised to even wince when they slammed the door closed. Ash may have been good at finding shortcuts around town or sussing out the best moment to swipe a store's stock from its shelves but he could not, for the life of him, read a room. He could figure out a complicated lock without breaking a sweat; even the most detailed ones had a pattern to them and it was just a matter of tackling it piece by piece. He could not figure out people. He could not immediately figure out their emotions -- they didn't stick to any rules and there were no patterns to follow at all – but he had figured out that his notion that Mindy was playing along and seeing this whole thing as kind of a joke was very wrong. He didn't even have it in him any more to point out that fish weren't mammals or that they'd managed to pick out the sole mammal capable of laying eggs. “Uhhhhh,” said Ash, uselessly. And then, he added, only slightly less uselessly, “I don't think you're dumb though. I didn't mean to make you feel like you were.” He tried, vaguely, to put himself in their shoes and wonder how it would feel to say something like that on a date but, when he could only picture it not bothering him, he gave up. But Mindy had found it embarrassing so he'd just have to work with that. “Besides,” said Ash, moving to chew on the skin that was bothering his thumb instead, “If she dumps you over something like that, then she kinda sucks anyway.” Although he was trying, Ash was not very good at offering comfort.

Their hand lifted up while Ash had his back turned, miming what he was saying by opening and closing it facetiously, rolling their eyes. As far as they were concerned, a missing dad was indifferent to the concept... or they were biased, as someone who was the carbon copycat of a missing little girl that would never be seen again. ( Seemed she didn't have a family who loved her, anyway. ) "Okay, but you wouldn't be able to give a great answer about it if someone asked about your parents, either, so you could like, pretend to be in my shoes here!" Mindy continued to protest, demanding for an actual opinion that was eluding them in the namesake of the unidentified slime. God, they couldn't believe their existential crisis was being upstaged by someone's goo... ew.

"Yeah, I just might if Benny keeps hanging around my fucking RV every time shit goes wrong." There was a hint of sparks flying in their voice, and not the amorous, lovey-dovey kind. Their loyalty drew the line where the safety of their roommates became a concern — was that too coddling? — and they were tired of being the janitor to all his fucking messes. 'Agent of chaos', kiss their ass. If Benny didn't want to fucking act thirty, he could make new friends. As melodramatic as their current rampage was, they wouldn't be having this conversation if it weren't for their conscience whacking them in the back of the head repeatedly. ( Their conscience, of which, was wailing on them for being a huge cotton swab. ) "Did I ever tell you what he did the other week? Came to my house all fucked up in the middle of the night 'cause he got into a fight with some bitch in this building. I thought I was gonna have to drop him off at the fucking ER and drive away, I mean it. At least I know you wouldn't take advantage of my fucking kindness." That may not be the first word that came to mind when Mindy was involved, but they likened to believe it was somewhere in the fifth range. The dancetté of wrinkles in their forehead deepened the more they ruminated over it, cheeks puffed in frustration. Why did fitting in have to be so damn hard, and force them to confront serious shit they didn't want?

"I don't know! I'm not a mammal scientist!" Their hands thrown up in the air as they stomped through the open door to the apartment and kicked it closed behind them ( no doubt the entire building was convicted that they were having a lover's quarrel, as if that didn't add to the surmountable rumors surrounding M-A-S-H and their excursions during Valentine's already. ) "Like a platypus. Or a fish! They lay eggs, too." Spoken with every ounce of confidence for someone with an egregiously wrong answer, they mirrored Ash's poise, arms folding over their chest and fingers gripping at their sweatshirt. A corked scowl and wrinkled brows were amplified as their eyes rolled, the tomato paste heating up their cheeks forcing them to turn away — look, they might be friends, if not best friends, but Mindy didn't take kindly to letting anyone see how embarrassed they were with themselves. Narrowing their eyes to study one of the posters on the alabaster walls, a grim shade that matched Seal Harbor's wretched reputation, the light tremor in their frame was naught from that but anger that they didn't know where to put out. The stinging in their eyes turned fouler than the sea salt in the air when the winds blew strong and westbound from the harbor. Mindy sniffled audibly, sweater paws wiping at the percolation teeming in their eyes and mumbling, "I just thought I could talk to you 'cause everyone else will make me feel so stupid about it... And I already feel dumb."

[prismagpie]

“Hey, don't knock payphones,” he said, an eyebrow raised. “If you ever lose your phone, you'll figure out they're a lifesaver. Well, if you lost your phone. Guess it doesn't matter now.” Still, he could recall, quite vividly, the time he'd dripped over his own feet and dropped his phone down a drain gate. He'd been on the opposite side of town from Seal Harbour and it was too late to fathom walking there; in that moment, a shitty old payphone with cracked windows had been his sole saving grace. “Funny, most out-of-towners around here are totally blindsided by the weather here,” said Ash, with a short laugh. “It's kinda refreshing to talk to someone who didn't pop out the womb bathed in sunlight.” If the snow weren't something of a nuisance, Ash would say he'd gotten used to it long ago. Hell, he did say so. Any chance he got, he'd claim to be utterly unbothered by the harsh temperatures, even if he was actually shivering under his clothes. It was a pride thing. Not an Alaskan pride thing, just an Ash pride thing.

Happy to let them keep raking through the box of new arrivals, shrugging of any concerns as to whether not he was actually allowed to let anybody do that, Ash grabbed a small stepping-stool that was normally reserved for shelving purposes and sat down on it. It was better than loitering around in the aisle and feeling pointless. He propped his elbows up on his knees and rested his chin in his palms, fingers drumming against his jaw as he considered their question. “Mostly other retail jobs, I guess? In bigger stores than this,” he said. “Not really qualified for much else. The customers here a lot nicer though.” He neglected to mention that he'd been fired from those previous jobs for stealing from the register. Throughout his whole life, those were the only times he'd ever been caught in the act. “Oh, shit, you work at the theatre?” he asked, straightening up. Ash wasn't particularly interested in theatre but he was always interested in jobs that seemed different. “What's that like?”

"I suppose this could all be some divine intervention to keep our brains from rotting out of our skulls," Hermione delivered a melodramatic sigh as they continued plucking up records at random despite very well knowing their beloved Canterbury Tales wouldn't be found. Needle in a haystack, really. But perhaps they could procure another vintage find to add to their extensive home catalogue. Might as well leave with something — they were growing interminably bored with the constant loop of Hello Dolly! playing from their thrifted record player. "Payphone? What a poor unfortunate soul. Although I do think they'll be making a resurgence nowadays, for better or worse." Oh, absolutely for worse, but vocalizing that, they reckoned, wouldn't benefit anyone. That was what theatre was for.

The actor nodded along to show that they were still listening despite their attention mostly being devoted to the selections that were available for purchase. "I shoulda figured. It was that way in B.C., too. Always snowing," they scrunched up their nose at memories of trudging through layers upon layers of snow in hideous suits that prevented them from developing frostbite in the dead of Canada's bitter winters. Somehow, it was worse in Anchorage. Perhaps coupling the weather with the recent events didn't do the town any favors, either. They appeared more than pleased whenever they were delivered a form promptly, accepting it with vigor. "Excellent. Thanks," they said, flashing a smile as they glanced up at Ash. "Least shitty? What other kinds of jobs have you had? Because I'm working at Single Carrot right now and it's a dream, but, well, it can be particularly stressful. Especially with some co-stars."

[prismagpie]

"I don't even wanna be associated with the word snitch," Ash scoffed, brushing himself down and adjusting the collar of his jacket as though preparing himself for his next steps. Once upon a time, Ash had tried to declare himself a reformed thief, purely because he'd managed to kick what felt like a bad habit, but he remained a thief in any other way that mattered. The only real difference was that he no longer swiped things out of compulsion; now, if he was stealing something, it was very much intentional. Less compulsion, more impulsion. As to what was worse, well, that was not Ash's concern. Either way, his having jumped at the chance to actively help someone else shoplift more effectively had probably spoiled any chances at reformation or redemption, at least for the next couple years. (The truth was that, sometimes, having a partner in crime just made things a little more exciting.)

"Exactly my point, then. If you can't have too much, why settle for one?" said Ash, coolly. Sure, it was safer to just grab something small and run. People rarely ever noticed if you were quick enough. But an open place like this might require a little more work and, at that point, don't you deserve something extra for the hard work? His gaze washed over the shelves of eyeshadow and he shrugged. He could probably do with replacing his go-to pallet. Maybe, he'd even go for something a little nicer for once. One side-step over and he was in front of the eyeliner. Now he'd been reminded like this, it occurred to him that his liquid liner was running dry, both in the sense that it was nearly empty and that he'd been using it long enough that the brush itself had begun drying out a little while ago. However, Ash did not grab a tube off the shelf just yet. "So, who should be the decoy?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "How good are you at lying and causing a fuss?"

Though Ava had a bullish tendency to refuse help (no matter how well meaning), sooner muscling her way through a perfectly avoidable situation rather than openly admit when she's wrong, her ears still perked up whenever she felt like she could actually learn something from someone. Particularly when it came to doing things she was passionate about, suddenly the urge to observe temporarily eclipsed her sense of pride. If it meant getting better at something she loved, she was willing to listen. It just so happened that this interest in particular involved committing a misdemeanor. Go figure.

Keeping her gaze fixed ahead to avoid drawing attention to the security camera Ash pointed out, Ava casually glanced at a nearby display instead, catching a glimpse of the camera in her peripheral vision. A smug grin playing on her lips at the affirmation that no one else saw what she'd done (and, more importantly, that he wouldn't be ratting her out for it either), the hairdresser let her shoulders relax. "Good. Can't stand a snitch, would've ruined my whole day." Worse than that, she didn't even want to imagine this incident making it back to her family, so she was grateful to have found a willing accomplice instead. Checking out a display of eyeshadows next to him, she shrugged, plucking a palette of cool tones off of the shelf. "Just for the thrill of it. But a girl can never have too many shades of red lipstick." Quirking a brow at his challenge, Ava felt an undeniable wave of excitement come over her at the idea of leaving the store with more than a single tube. "Did you have something in mind? If one of us is gonna be the distraction, why not pick something out for yourself?"

[prismagpie]

HONGJOONG ✘ MATZ MV MAKING FILM

[prismagpie]

𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙲𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙺 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙸𝙺𝙴𝚂 …

 happy 26th birthday dearest ASH YOON  ,

come drop your presents & send wishes if you may                               find out more about character birthdays here !

[prismagpie]

"It's pretty crazy, huh? You don't realise how big a deal phones are to people until they're suddenly gone," said Ash, and he spoke without pretention or self-superior and instead with simple intrigue. His phone had been a good way to whittle away the hours when he had nothing better to do but Ash had gotten pretty good at distracting himself in all his years of having a mile-a-minute mind so he learned to adapt pretty quick. "But, to be honest, the other day, someone came in here asking me if I could point them to the nearest payphone and all it made me realise was how rarely I actually call anyone." It wasn't like he had a sprawling list of people to call, mind; among his most frequently called contacts had been his favourite pizza place. If nothing else, no cell phone meant fewer bills to pay.

"Who knows, maybe we're late," said Ash, casually. "Stuff gets delayed sometimes, especially all the way up here. And especially with the snow and the internet being busted. Keeping track is pretty rough." With that said , Ash straightened himself from where he'd been leaning against the shelf and walked back over to the cash register. It was a little abrupt but the record store was small enough that he was still in their line of sight if they needed to ask anything. Ash knew that the form was on the other side of the register (because he'd stuffed it in a drawer himself when asked to keep an eye out for applicants) but, because he couldn't be bothered going back there the normal way, he leant himself over the counter-top. It was a little hard to focus when his head was upside and he was half-hanging off the the counter but it didn't take him long to yank open a drawer and whip out the form he needed. He hopped back off the counter, marched back over to the box of unshelved records and handing them the form. "Here you go," he said, sounding almost triumphant. "If you have more in-depth questions, besides what's on the sheet, you'll probably have to wait until the owner's around. I'm just the cashier so I don't have all the info but this is probably the least shitty job I've had, if that helps?"

Hermione couldn't stifle a snort. "I absolutely am not," they denied at once. In many ways, they preferred antiquity; what wasn't there to love about how simple and straight-forward things were before modern technology meddled everyone's minds and whittled away at their attention spans? "That's true enough. I'm not sure how many times I nearly smashed my phone on the concrete when it refused to make any calls." Intermittent tantrums were the norm for the young actor — they always had been, as though they'd endured countless years of cognitive behavioral therapy, that didn't mean they still weren't occasionally subject to a fit of rage that they absolutely couldn't mitigate for the life of them. They liked to believe today would be different, as an absent record wasn't as dire of a situation as, say, dialing up their mother for a few words of wisdom on a particularly brutal day. When they'd awoken that morning, they felt unusually calm, which is why they struck up conversation in the first place rather than ignore the rest of the world.

"Record expert, hmm..." they pondered the thought for a moment, then scrunched up their button nose. "Maybe. I do have an extensive collection of records myself. Do you have an application I could fill out?" If they were to undertake any secondary means of employment in Anchorage, why not let it be a place they frequented anyway? "No dice. But I could just be early."

[prismagpie]

Could it be that he'd gotten so caught up in his schemes that he hadn't even recognised the person with whom he'd collided until they opened their mouth to speak? Was Ash really the kind of guy to get so worked up about something meaningless that it would cloud his judgement to that extent? Well. Yes. Unfortunately. "Good," he said, stubborn as ever. "Then you're not a threat." The idea that it might be unusual for someone to be so unfamiliar with these games didn't occur to him, for several reasons. Ash had never come here as a kid, in spite of the fact he could not remember a time when the carnival wasn't standing. The entry tickets weren't cheap and the attractions inside only demanded more money but they weren't well off and his father was cheap even beyond that. A place like this would have written off as a waste of time back then; any free time Ash after school was used up on the work his father set for him. He'd snuck out a few times as a teen but he'd only ever been able to run off somewhere quiet. Crowded places like this, where someone might recognise him and sell him out to his dad without even realising, had never been an option. Nowadays, he couldn't help but wondered if he'd been too careful, too paranoid, but it was better than being at the receiving end of his father's anger. Not worth the hassle.

It might have been an empty threat but Ash had already gotten himself riled up. "Okay, fine! Go ahead and push me," he said throwing his arms out beside him, as though to open himself up as an easy target. But, just as immediately, he crossed his arms back across his chest because, deep down, he was a little frightened they might actually go for it. Ash could put on a good show all he liked but he'd his core was a little lacking in the strength department. "If there's even a slim chance of this impressing you, you seriously need raise your standards," said Ash, watching over his shoulder as the six year-old in front of him deliberated over what prize to choose. Based on their rambling in the queue, it seemed like they were only interested in winning a rubber ball. "I could show you how it works though? In case you do feel like giving a try." See, he wasn't totally unreasonable. He was even letting Iris skip the queue on his behalf, whether they had wanted to or not! "Just keep away from the penguin."

"I don't know how to play, asshole."

A curse without an ounce of enmity ejected to their friend veiled their own embarrassment toward being unfamiliar with the rigged games that were commonality in the carnival. They ran games all the time as an attendant at Peppy's... this was different. Watching the rings hit or miss its target. Hands stuffed into their coat and an arm tucked around a whopping bag of kettle corn they'd been off to retrieve on behalf of their company, a shrewd gaze surveyed the game, biting their lower lip and exhaling carbon dioxide that stained the world around them a pallid discoloration. The skies above them had turned bleak as Anchorage was devoured by the throes of winter's low roar, embellishing their eyes with a bleary chalk undeterred by the lack of sleep. ( The pipes had been rattling in the basement whenever someone in an apartment way above them ran the hot water in their shower, and they had to convince themselves that it wasn't a rampant knocking door-to-door in search of them. )

Squinting to the shelves filled with prizes and zeroing in on said penguin, Iris pursed their lips into a thin line of scrutiny. Admission of a covert love of stuffed animals, wouldn't that appear childish on their behalf? "It's cute, I guess." It was missing an eye, like them — after they'd lost their only prosthetic and were stranded to wait weeks for another to process, their stand-in was good for keeping the space open for their glass eyeball and little else. "Keep talking and I'll push you so you do fuck it up." It was an empty threat. "I hope you're not trying to impress me right now. What if the kid in front of you wants it?"

[prismagpie]

To Ash's credit, he'd jumped out of this state of invented rage almost immediately. Or, at least, explaining it that way was a little less embarrassing than admitting it was hard to keep defending his place in line after realising it had never been under any threat. We try not to focus too much on the details. "This is the only line," he said, a little bewildered. He wondered if his outburst had created a false sense of popularity. Maybe he should have run with that one. It would have been a lie but it might have been a little less embarrassing than the reality that he'd just gotten needlessly possessive over a stuffed bird. Ash glanced back over his shoulder, as though following her guess. There had been no need for it, he knew exactly what the toy looked like. He'd only spent the last fifteen minutes staring at it so intensely that might as well have burned holes in the stuffing. "I like that he's messed up," he said, whipping his head back around. His voice had come out a little strangled, as though he was offended that she'd suggest anything else. Ash had gotten so caught up in the moment, in fact, he hadn't even realised he'd copied her wording – he'd said fucked up, hadn't he? "I think it gives him character, okay? I'm just looking out for the underdog!"

FINALLY, HER SUSTAINED INJURIES weren't at the forefront of Dorothy's mind, as the holiday spirit had swiftly taken its spot. Many of the clothes she had worn for the month were festive, and there was always an added accessory, whether it was antlers, a necklace decorated with comically-sized Christmas lights, or something else as equally on-theme was apart of her attire. Still, it didn't change her regular routine of spending majority of her time at the carnival, especially now that she was slowly being worked back into the show since her recovery. (Years prior she would ask the older circus members if Santa would know how to find them if the tent didn't have a chimney.) Out of her performance outfit and back into a sweater that was adorned with pom-poms that were designed to look like ornaments, the acrobat was enjoying the free time that could be spent around her home away from home, which included most likely losing at whichever game stall she chose to participate in. When her body collided with another, immediate confusion took her face. "Was there more than one line for this game? I didn't think it was that popular..." Brown eyes moved to look at the plush he was referencing, head tilting to the side. "Aw, don't say that about him. I don't think he's messed up. It just makes him cuter."

[prismagpie]

"Internet kinda sucks anyway, unless you're some big-brain computer type," Ash shrugged. He'd heard vague rumours of hidden truths hidden behind pages of code and firewalls but all the technical terms were too dense and boring for him to have ever given it a second though. "Wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing just went kaput one day. It's been borderline unusable lately." And, after everyone's smartphones went dead back in November, it was hard not to feel like things were on the verge of collapse. It'd probably lead to a boom in business here at the record store. A blessing and a curse. Ash leaned back against the shelf with a sigh; it had quickly dawned on him that, with the records he was meant to shelf out of his hands, he couldn't work until they were done sorting through them. Instead of getting impatient or cursing himself for his own actions, Ash was happy to use any excuse to slack off this early into his shift.

"Pretty sure the only vacancy we have right now is 'Record Expert'," he said, motioning quotation marks with his fingers. If it wasn't already obvious, Ash certainly didn't have the credentials for something like that. For one thing, he preferred CDs to vinyls. "I guess the only way you can keep a niche business like this going is keeping the numbers low. Or maybe I just suck at my job." A pause and Ash leant over to peer into the box. "Any luck?"

The actor's eyebrows perched and then fell in tandem with the employee's guesses on what they sought after. It was amusing, at the very least. Straightening their spine and rolling their shoulders at the offer of usurping the honor of browsing the new releases themselves, they nodded affirmatively. "Sure. Why not?" they mused as they approached the box and slid their designer bag off their arm, resting it beside their freshly polished shoes so that they could begin rifling through the selections. Side-eyeing the stranger, they cleared their throat as they thought to continue the conversation. "That's no problem. I should learn not to trust everything the Internet says anyway. Though it hasn't failed me until now," they noted with a hum as they plucked each vinyl up and inspected the cover before passing it over to the other for it to be put away wherever it was needed. "Understaffed? Maybe I should put in an application. I can be on the front lines for whenever it does show up."

[prismagpie]

Aw, shit. If Ash had any inkling at all this person wanted that rabbit for herself, he wouldn't have worried. He'd have wished her luck and not spared it a second thought, so long as he could focus on getting himself that penguin with the scruffy fur (look, they aren't really feathers when it's a stuffed animal) and the wonky beak. But the mention of a niece changed that. Maybe it was because he'd been the kid who'd stared longingly through shop windows at toys he'd never own or maybe it was just a normal, healthy amount of human empathy but he knew he'd only end up feeling guilty if he didn't at least try to help out. Just the image of a little disappointed kid traipsing home empty-handed was a little too much. It didn't even occur to him to apologise for his pointless accusations, his train of thought had already run far away from him.

"Oh wow, that bunny's one of the higher value prizes, huh?" said Ash, staring up at the plush is question. He had to raise his voice a little, to be heard over the blaring sounds of fairground rides and the droning Christmas soundtrack bursting from the carnival's clusters of speakers. "Hey, I could try for the bunny too, just so your niece has better chances. I can't help much with the game fee but I've been watching this stall a while and I think I've figured out the technique." And, as if to emphasise his newfound expertise, Ash mimed (what he, at least, believed to be) that perfect toss.

Jaye had been invited by her sister to go to the carnival with her and her kids. She hadn't been interested in carnivals for a long time, but it was an excuse to get out of the house and seeing everybody around made her realise that it was quite popular. The group were enjoying their time when Jaye's sister mentioned going to grab some snacks for them while her three kids went with her, well not before Jaye's youngest niece begged her auntie to try for the cute bunny rabbit plush at the ring toss. "As long as you get me some cotton candy." She smiled before the youngest ran off,leaving her to try her hand at the ring toss, however she didn't realise how close she was to the other until he hit in to her.

Her eyes looked at the penguin that he was talking about and all she could do was chuckle. "You have some good taste my friend, but I'm not here for the penguin, I'm here for Mr Rainbow Bunny, my niece would be pretty bummed if I didn't get it."