#choicescreen

[vitalphenomena]

@choicescreen // nile said: i think we should do it, even if we are afraid.

"Who said anything about being afraid?"

Oh, but Nile is. And that's normal. That's fine. That's to be expected, even. Andy would like to be dauntless, but she feels things, too. The beauty and mystery of her existence is that she still has a fast-beating heart, still feels things like she did before her first death.

And her second, third, fourth...

"For what it's worth, I think you're right. We should go."

[latebite]

@choicescreen harry said: a real new yorker can get bored in paris.

He is trying to puzzle out whatever that means while suppressing the indescribable urge to house this hot pastrami-on-rye. (Extra pastrami, plus corned beef. The sandwich-arranger was generous with both.)

"They let you into Paris?"

[curiosityshop]

"Well, it's been a funny day, Your Honor, that's for sure," MacGyver returns, leaning back in his chair and looking at @choicescreen , smile equal parts kind and bone tired. "Want to go through it again or call it a night? We could swap card tricks instead." // starter call!

[dymagamwedd]

@choicescreen gets a starter.

it's not so strange to get newcomers in some pubs. the closer to city centre you get, the more you see unfamiliar faces; some belong to transient workers, some belong to tourists. ferry likes the anonymity, really — he likes being the friendly local, to strangers who will forget him in a week's time. so he sidles up to the out-of-place lad at the bar and grins. "ee, then, not seen you here."

[aspirinqs]

@choicescreen​ / finn.

    “this could become very sticky business,” singing her syllables, she pokes finn’s shoulder at every tuneful jump. “matter of fact, we are apt to pen all the intricacies of our merry upbringing, lest we later confuse two tales.” then, in the eye-rolling neighborhood of a murmur, “ – not that anyone in here would notice ... ”

   “finn?” sobering into a curiousity that's both convivial and creative, “would you mind any if i were to ask, if any of your clearly inspired details are true of your own, well, true, childhood?”

[timeloooop]

vincent: you think i’ve gone crazy. maybe i have, a little.

«You have not gone crazy.» A puckish pause before adding: «You have gone to it.» Altogether true, but unhelpfully equivocal.

[nearestend]

jemima: pretty things should be enjoyed. @ eleanor

PROMPTS : LITTLE WOMEN (2019)

eleanor is a cynical creature. she hears the word pretty and she thinks of flowers. wild ones that grow in patches by the woods where she often ventures. violets, monkswood, daisies, and asters. the bouquets her father sometimes brings her mother when she is at her saddest and refuses to leave the house. peonies, dahlias, and tulips. he once brought a potted orchid, but mother let that one die.

eleanor hears the word pretty and she thinks of rot. leave a pretty thing untended for too long and it starts to decay. petals wither, metals tarnish, silks get devoured by moths. what a waste, she thinks to herself, what a waste it all is.

it's these sort of awful thoughts she keeps to herself as she forages through her mother's belongings, a phantom companion at her side. her mother has so many pretty things that go untouched these days. heirlooms, mostly, things from her youth. eleanor is not supposed to touch these things, but she always does in secret, if only because it's forbidden.

"mother doesn't agree. i think they make her sad." hardly any trace of sentiment or melancholy as she plucks something from the jewelry box. an old silver ring with ornate engraving, too large for her own bony fingers. silently, eleanor slips it into her pocket and closes the box.

[wastewaifs]

@choicescreen harry said: nice try gorgeous, but you don’t fool anyone.

gorgeous? that earns an eye-roll, but it's not especially serious. neither's her next comment.

"congratulations on being so astute."

[bucketkicked]

@choicescreen (bandit) liked for a starter from beppe!

“Man, you’ve made a name for yourself, huh?” Giuseppe asks with a chuckle, producing a magazine and sliding it over to the older man, tapping the cover. “You ever drive one of these? They’re real fast, yunno. Sounds like something you’d like.”

It’s a picture of a sports car, an orange Triumph Spitfire. “It’s more of a British car, but it’s a beaut, ain’t it? Bet you could make it do some real nice tricks.”

[nocturnitat]

Adam hesitates in the doorway, an unseasonable chill wracking his frame.

“Hey, Mr. Katsumata?” he asks, an all-too-familiar dread settling in his stomach as he looks over his shoulder at @choicescreen . “You sure about this? ‘Cause I don’t… I don’t think we should be here.” // starter call!

[vitalphenomena]

@choicescreen // cecil said: you’re right on the edge of becoming a bore.

BUT RIGHT ON THE EDGE OF ONE THING MEANS HE'S PRECARIOUSLY ON THE EDGE OF ANOTHER, RIGHT? Means he's also on the edge of becoming very exciting, right?

Pyotr, nonplussed, shrugs. He weaves his fingers together, temples his hands beneath his chin.

His eyes are a little droopy. He needs a nap, a snack, both. Maybe a fuck. It's been awhile. Maybe that would fix him.

"Do I always need to entertain?" he wonders innocuously. "I can only keep the light switch turned on for so long. It gets very exhausting, you know, being the life of the party."

He's very proud of his use of figurative language.

[latebite]

@choicescreen

"I like Spike Jones as much as the next guy--"

None of the waiting staff have come within three feet of them for the last half hour. It doesn't matter that Harry tips well or that Conrad remembers their names when they sit at the same table and have exactly the same conversation every other afternoon.

They're being avoided by servers who have come to dread their inclusion in the conversation, to give their input on whether The Dark Mirror is in fact better than The Post Man Always Rings Twice, as if they're not an undergraduate studying Economics at NYU, and born at least a decade after these two. (And many more since those movies debuted.)

"Two minutes of Bowie, Harry, that's all I'm asking from you. Ashes to Ashes -- he makes a lot of Jones sounds in that one," the redhead promises. "There's this part right after the first chorus--"

[zeveth]

@choicescreen | start !

"no, no..." zeveth lifts a hand, stepping reluctantly from the entrance into sick bay. "don't stop on my account. that instrument... i wish i could understand it. what sort of music were you playing? it was music, wasn't it?"

[bythetale]

@choicescreen, sc

baracus grinds his teeth like a reaper sharpens their scythe. (preparing to spit truths.) hands clenched at sides and brows dug into fiery glower.

“ look at this fool, pickin’ on a defenseless kid. ” a large hand thump thump thumps the back of murdock’s bomber jacket. “ somebody oughta knock his lights out. ”

[empiriical]

" hush, someone will hear you. " — @choicescreen

berga's expression turns further disgruntled, as if offended by the implication that he should lower his voice. "are you sure you're a friend of maiza's?" his brow furrows, face betraying confusion && uncertainty ; his voice does drop slightly, but more in hesitation. normally, he'd turn to luck for clarity, but luck's not here at the moment. he cracks his knuckles. he'd come out here to throw his weight around a little, but now that it seems he won't be doing that, berga's not quite sure what to do instead. he's not exactly the diplomat of the family. he's not even that good a talker.

"i'm s'posed to believe you're a — what? a vampire?" despite his own immortality — something berga hasn't quite comprehended the full weight of — he seems skeptical of the concept existing in this form. "you're gonna have to do better than that. immortal or not, friend of the martillos or not, the gandors don't take kindly to strangers doing business on our turf." he gestures down the street toward the coraggioso. "'specially when you're the competition."

DRIVE MY CAR.

[moonshadowed]

@choicescreen​ inquires:  39 + from m'pella to jadzia!

SPOTIFY WRAPPED. always accepting.

39. born free - andy williams.

“You’re free as the roaring tide, so there’s no need to hide.”