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[saltair-rusteddoor]

splenetiics·:

    aisling  enters  the  studio  ,  the  door  slamming  loudly  behind  them  .  they  were  not  one  to  dampen  their  presence  —  why  should  entering  jazzexercize  change  that  ?  it  wasn’t  like  anyone  was  there  anyway  ….  aisling  wished  it  was  because  people  had  finally  realized  jazzercise  was  WEIRD  ,  but  they  knew  it  was  because  of  the  rise  in  terror  around  the  mall  .  not  that  they  could  blame  anyone  ;  they  wished  they  could  pack  it  up  and  run  away  ,  but  their  finances  simply  wouldn’t  allow  it  .  home  wasn’t  an  option  ,  anyway  .

    “  just  checking  in  on  everyone  working  tonight  ,  that’s  all  .  i  figured  it  was  my  turn  since  no  -  one  else  showed  up  to  check  on  ME  …..  ”  the  former  guitarist  states  ,  arms  crossed  over  their  chest  .  their  eyes  meet  the  boombox  to  the  right  ,  brows  furrowing  together  .  “  do  you  guys  seriously  play  this  stuff  ?  ”

August made an exasperated sound. Of course, it was probably responsible to make sure everyone on the night shift was okay. She would, if she cared enough to. But their interruption of her dance practice still annoyed her to no end, something she tried to hide this time. A little. “I didn’t know we were checking on everyone, now. I thought we were on our regular every man for himself, you know.” Even though she tried, her voice still came off sarcastic. She really didn’t want trouble, just some peace. “Who are you, anyway?” 

Her annoyance only grew at their insult of August’s choice of music. She took a deep breath. Now was not the time. “What would you expect to be playing, pop music?” She scoffed. “It does, most of the time.”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

mcllrats·:

A hardened glare took over MK’s features, as if August’s words had curled around her very being and made the blood within her boil. “Yes,” She all but spat out, eyes narrowing, “Because I did not raise a pair of ungrateful monsters.” Sure Charlene and Rebecca misbehaved, more so in the last six months than ever before but that was understandable, and like any other children had their petulant moments. However, her girls were good. And she would have nobody, especially some kid at the mall, tell her different. “Apparently the same can’t be said for your parents.” She let out a sharp breath, shaking her head like the other would never understand. “Because I’d like them to have a mom around, not one stuck in jail for stupid decisions.” 

August snickered at the woman’s reaction, somewhat proud of how much of a rise she getting out of MK. It wasn’t hard, really, to punish people for the crime of not being in the same hole she was in. “Geez. No need to be like that. I’m sure they’re very glad to have you around.” She knew exactly what she was doing. If she was at the other end, August would be flipping at the woman right now. “I would very gladly watch my parents rot in jail, to be honest.” She smiled at the woman. “They’d look great in orange.”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

Seeing Nick Jugah, the brother of an old friend of hers, was a trip in memory lane. Although August hated to see people from her past, something about him was always different. Maybe it was because he was kind, or because he didn’t deserve her bullshit. Probably because she had a feeling he hadn’t laughed behind her back when shit went down in her life. But she tried to be in a reasonable behavior whenever they stumble upon each other. Which wasn’t often. She decidedly avoided everyone she may have a soft spot for. August laughed humorlessly at his remark, thinking of how she, herself, had briefly escaped. It was bittersweet. “It could be worse around here, you know.” She tried to argue, knowing very well it couldn’t. “We could still all be stuck in high school right now.”

STATUS: CLOSED FOR @saltair-rusteddoor​ LOCATIONS: TRACKS

It wasn’t easy being here after being present for one of the attacks, even after a couple weeks. Nick hoped it’d be one of those things that time healed, but maybe that wasn’t the case. The only thing he felt like was getting better, was his ability to pretend he was okay. Though that was about to be put to the test when one of his brother’s old friends walked in. “I think my brother had the right idea when he decided to move.” He said, striking up casual conversation. Usually it was bittersweet, thinking about how his younger siblings had all moved away to pursue whatever dreams they had. These days it seemed more like a blessing, at least they weren’t here for this nightmare. “Don’t tell him I said that though, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

closed: @radiostcr​

location: food court

August just needed some coffee. Turns out it was very hard to get one at that time of day specifically, because everyone also wanted a coffee and the food court was full. She had nothing to do while she waited in line, which pissed her off. All she wanted to do was get a coffee, go home and read some magazines; instead, she was there, stuck. It was like a metaphor for the rest of her life. 

Distracted as she was, she started looking at the ground. There was nowhere else to look, nothing else to do. And that was why she saw something hit the floor, an object that had fallen from a passerby’s pocket; she considered not doing anything. Someone else was bound to see it. Yet they didn’t. 

With a sigh, and in annoyance that she would have to leave the queue and maybe not come back to her current place in it (although there were only one person behind her), she picked it up and approached the person. “You dropped this. Be more careful.” Her irritation was apparent in her voice.

[saltair-rusteddoor]

A u g u s t i n e   S t a n f o r d : L o o k b o o k

[saltair-rusteddoor]

August didn't like admitting she was having a bad time not having her parents around. She never wanted to think that she missed them, or that she needed them. Because they certainly neither missed or needed her. And even if she kept seeing them in the news, and even if people looked at her in pity, so what? At least she could make it away from all the money and politics. Her parents could never do that. 

But some days, she felt lonely. And she felt left behind, and forgotten. And she felt that she would never be a dancer again, and that, without the money, she would never get what she actually wanted. So she would just... Feel things, for once. She hated it, honestly. Emotions were overrated. The coffee she was toying with was not enough to ward off the feelings. It was actually probably feeding it. 

When the guy offered her food, it caught her off guard. “No, no, I’m not hungry.” She shook her head, to taken aback by the sudden niceness to react with the proper defensiveness. “It’s fine.” Then she felt awkward, and tried to strike a conversation. “You work at the food court, don’t you?” She really didn’t know if he did or not, but he did look like a guy she had bought coffee from one time.

open starter for @shrikestart​ location: late riser around 10 PM

Any chance Ian got to get off work early he took. Hanging around the mall was not something Ian was making a habit anymore. The days of catching movie premieres or dinner in the food court after a shift at the arcade were long gone. He got in and got out. Ian wasn’t even frequenting the bars; opting to drink in the comfort of his own home if he needed something to take the edge off. 

Ian’s plan had been to scarf down his shift meal and get out before the witching hour was upon him and he was making his way to his favorite booth when he spotted another soul in the diner. They were nursing a cup of coffee and it was clear they were going through something. Maybe that’s what drew out Ian’s compassion. He was going through hell and could probably empathize with whatever it was they were going through. There was food Ian could eat at home so he made a detour. 

“Here,” Ian said as he set the plate down in front of them. “Compliments of the kitchen,” he explained. “It’s a cheesy scramble with grilled onions in the hashbrowns.” The under toasted english muffin with orange marmalade he would keep for himself. He was pretty sure he was the only person who liked that. 

[saltair-rusteddoor]

mcllrats​:

There were days, many of them, that MK questioned whether she was a good mother. Did good mothers regret events that directly led to their children? Did they split up their families on impulse? Did they lose their temper as often as she did or struggle to complete tasks that seemed so simple to other people? Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. She wasn’t sure. However, she did know that she loved her girls and ultimately would do anything for them. A shitty shift at the local grocery store was the bare minimum she could do for them, provide for them. She raised an eyebrow, wondering if August was suggesting what she suspected she was. “I’m not desperate enough to get caught up in anything illegal.” Yet. While not the best place to work, extra hours were enough to get them by. “A new pair of shoes,” She said simply in way of an answer. Her eyes catching the other woman’s. The little extra money she made that day would cover the cost of the sneakers that Charlene had spent the last couple of weeks begging for. She was trying not to let this girl get under her skin, but that had never been the easiest of tasks. She supposed it was fair, if she hadn’t had these responsibilities she wouldn’t have understood them either, and yet the flippancy still annoyed her. 

August laughed, but there was no humor. There was just the emptiness of her own broken relationship with her parents. She wanted to scream at this woman, release all the pressure on her shoulders by making her mad. “Is it worth it?” She looked at her. “Is it worth to do all of this for a bunch of children that will never appreciate it?” That wasn’t true. She’d appreciate it if her parents tried. Maybe. August wouldn’t know, they had never done so. It was always coldness, and distant glares, and disappointment. So whenever she met someone like MK, there was only... Emptiness and anger. “Why not just do something illegal and get a bunch of money, if you care so much?”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

closed: @splenetiics​

location: jazzexercize

Augustine hated this town. It was too small and too big at the same time. She hated that people remembered her from high school, but that no one remembered her from France. She had been a terrific ballerina. Once again, she was dusting her abilities, currently, since Jazzexercize was once again completely empty. She was tired of dancing to modern music. She wanted more than anything to go back to her ballet school and be a professional. Like her mother. That phrase made her want to vomit. 

In the middle of dancing, someone got into Jazzexercize; she didn’t notice, at first, so she kept dancing. Eventually, the person managed to catch her attention. She tried to hide her annoyance (only because she didn’t need yet another complaint). “Did you need anything?”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

closed: @victimtm​

location: julio's bar

Augustine was... Angry. She had read it in the papers that her mother was about to make her big comeback as a ballerina after taking a break to “take care of her daughter”. There were no mentions of August. Nothing. Just vague descriptions of a daughter. She wanted to punch her mother, honestly, but instead, she was at the bar, drinking her weight in beer in the hopes of drowning out the pain she was feeling. She was just wanted... 

Whatever. She wasn’t about to admit she wanted attention, even to herself. She wanted a fight, it’s what she wanted. She wanted to punch something until her anger subsided. She turned to the person closest to her. “What brings you here tonight?” She was hoping to get something she could use against them, something that she could use to cause anger.

[saltair-rusteddoor]

mcllrats​:

MK shouldn’t have been so shocked to realise that she wasn’t the only one that needed a moment more before walking throw the mall’s doors. Maybe the other woman had heard the same broadcast and had been reminded that something tragic had occurred not even twelve hours before while they were expected to just continue on as if it were any normal day. Or hell maybe she just needed an extra five minutes and a cigarette to remind herself that it was worth going in, any other day MK was much the same.

She did allow herself a small chuckle, her head tucked down and eyes focused on the tar behind her feet. She could appreciate a bit of dark humour, even if she herself hadn’t felt as if she was able to make that joke yet. Besides, maybe August was onto something. She shook her head, the breath of laughter escaping her this time nothing to do with humour - well, only if you considered the fact that she thought that naivety was hilarious. “Yeah, seems like a good idea when you don’t have two other mouths to feed and a mountain of bills to pay,” She answered, tossing her hair back and her head up, taking another drag. She exhaled before she returned the introduction, “MK.” 

August nodded. “I guess I don’t.” She took a long puff of the cigarette, thinking about her own mother. Would she ever do this for her? Would she ever, under any circumstance, sacrifice herself for her daughter. And it made her angry that this woman would. She took another puff. “But there are easier way to get your hand on my money if you need it so desperately.” She shrugged. “It’s just a day. Why does it matter in the grand scheme of things?” She didn’t know why she was set on annoying this woman. She just had developed an absolute hatred, disgust even, for people who had what she didn’t. What she wanted. 

[saltair-rusteddoor]

Whenever, she had time in between people coming in and out of Jazzercize, August danced ballet. She liked to see the way her body moved in front of the mirror effortlessly and lightly, feet barely touching the ground in between moves. She missed it. Although having come to terms with the fact that she’d never be a professional ballerina, it still ate her up. She was distracted by her own image that when she heard the girl’s voice, she was consumed by annoyance. “Yeah, it’s me.” She said, trying to keep her voice calm and controlled. August was a terrible employee as is, she didn’t need anyone complaining to her boss about her. “Did you need anything?” She recognized the girl, but not exactly. She had a familiar face, yet not one she could connect to anyone.

augustine / @saltair-rusteddoor​

alice loved everyone. or at least, she tried to. but there was something about augustine, a feeling of being stuck in a rut without any want to get out. she felt sorry for her. incredibly so. but alice learned a long time ago that people who did not want to be helped couldn’t have their mind changed. she remembered her from school, the sudden shift in her life. she was a few years younger than her, but there was no denying the draw she had on anyone who walked by her. life had a way of wearing you down. especially when it looks like you have everything. that was why, when she walked out of her jazzercise class, she went up to her. positively sure she’d make a change. “hi ! augustine, right?”

[saltair-rusteddoor]

closed: @dcylights​

location: parking lot

August was alone in the parking lot, which was a bad idea, given everything. However the last attack had happened so recently that she couldn’t help but think she’d be safe on the next couple of week; yes, that was probably flawed logic. She wasn’t about to become one of the people she saw around the mall, scared for their lives because of something that didn’t even happen to her. She wasn’t about to be scared to live. So instead, she smoked her cigarette, searched solace in the silence and changed nothing about her routine. 

[saltair-rusteddoor]

Augustine didn’t really know anyone that had been killed. If she did, maybe she could force some sort of empathy about what was going on. But what little friends she had (if any) were alive and well, and she was honestly just pissed she still had to go to work even though someone had died. She was sure after everything that the mall be closed for at least a week, yet there she was, hating every second of her day. So instead of actually heading to work, August was smoking in the parking lot, trying to think about an excuse not to go. She would probably just head inside after she finished her cigarette and get there late yet again. Being a good employee wasn’t her strong suit. 

Still somewhere else, she saw as a woman got out of her car and get a cigarette herself. She was gonna ignore her, just mentally taking note that she looked like she was somewhere else, until the woman addressed her. “Well, unfortunately, apparently we are fucking needed. Maybe they want us as bait or something.” She chuckled humorlessly. “Why do you care? If you don’t come in to work, they probably won’t notice. And if they call you, you can only pretend to not know you were supposed to come if you’re home.” She took a long puff off her cigarette. “I’m August, by the way.”

open starter: @shrikestart​​

MK pulled a rare strict mom move last night. She hadn’t let Charlene go to the premier no matter how much her eleven year old begged and pleaded - she was down on her knees chanting promises they both knew she would never keep at one point. She had stayed firm all week and repeated the same old mantra: “I don’t care that all your friends are going, I don’t care if it will like totally ruin your life. It’s PG12. You are eleven.” She wishes that she could say it was for the right reasons. She wants to be a strong enough mother that it was to protect her child from whatever elements it was that deemed The Lost Boys legally too old for her to watch or even argue that midnight was simply too late for a growing girl. But it wasn’t, it was for a number of reasons but most of them were selfish. It was because she wanted to have a beer when she got in from work rather than running around the house getting her child ready, it was because she had an early shift and couldn’t be bothered interrupting her sleep for the 2am pickup, and yeah maybe it was because she was a little bitter the premier was on her weekend so she couldn’t go enjoy the movie. Regardless of reason, she’s grateful that she stood her ground because the very thought of knife-wielding pyschos or men with Jack-O-Lanterns for faces anywhere near her baby makes the air disappear from her lungs. The hypothetical makes bile rise from her stomach. And then she’s reminded of the parents who have that reality, and perhaps of the few that aren’t currently holding their children close and thanking whoever there is to thank that they’ve survived.

When she feels the tears prickling in her eyes she quickly turns the radio dial to off, not wanting to listen to the coverage that sparked her train of thought in the first place. She glances up at the rear-view mirror, wiping away the droplets as though they offended her, and then swung open the car door before she stepped out into the car park’s asphalt. Leaning up against the car, she popped a cigarette in her mouth and took a long puff. It wasn’t until her heart had stopped pounding that she noticed she wasn’t alone. She lifted her chin in way of greeting to the other mall worker before exhaling her latest intake. “Figured we’re probably not needed today.” Given that the flooring outside of her store was surely now a crime scene. “But wasn’t going to risk not at least showing up.” She wasn’t going to be accused of ditching her shift without reason.

[saltair-rusteddoor]

hey look, it’s augustine stanford! she’s twenty-nine years old, she’s lived in shrike heights for most of her life, and she’s currently working at jazzercise studio. i heard she’s pretty arrogant, but i think she’s so courageous at the same time. can she make it out alive? ― india eisley, bisexual, female + she/her

TW: Drug addiction

Augustine’s parents where rich. By all accounts, she should have been the darling daughter of a famous ballet dancer and the best doctor in town, weren’t she an accidental pregnancy neither of them wanted. She spent her entire life as a ballerina in training, trying to make her parents proud, but she never could. They never looked at her. Never cared.

She was, however, a pristine perfect girl during high school. She dated popular guys, maintained very high grades, was a cheerleader. She wasn’t the best in anything, but she was good. She was the best dancer in her studio, which was what mattered most, but it still didn’t get her the attention she wanted.

Then she went to a ballet school in Paris after school, and it was when things started to go to shit. Augustine had given up on positive attention from her parents, and she was determined to get negative attention if needed. So she went the other route: she started doing drugs, and although still one of the best dancers, she didn’t try anymore to do so.

She thought her parents would be mad and worried, and that they would try to help her. But they disowned her. They left her for dead. Without her parents’ money, she had to go back to Shrike and try to become... Someone. 

From prodigy child to rebel girl to disaster woman, Augustine got a job for the first time in her life, and got a shitty apartment. She still hasn’t addressed her drug issue, and more than ever, she’s a missile searching for a target.

[saltair-rusteddoor]

India Eisley in I Am the Night 1.01

[saltair-rusteddoor]

India Eisley : 400*640

(English, Argentinian [Spanish, possibly other], Scottish, German)

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