#ext. outside

[keremdogulu]

FOR: @konstantinvorshevsky WHEN: Shooting: 21st of August, 2024. Meeting: 23rd. WHERE: Warehouses.

Kerem stood at the edge of a crumbling building, hands trembling, not with fear but with adrenaline that pulsed through her veins like wildfire. This was, without a doubt, the most scared Kerem had been in his fucking life. He was man enough to have control of himself, so his shoulders hadn't completely seized up, and yet, as he took a step forward, he could feel the panic rising. Whatever this meeting was, it would end one way or another. Had Emine and his relationship with the Russians already burned up? Kerem had always been one to offer solutions, to find a way out of the most tangled of situations because he’d never truly had the status in his father's shadow.

How did he approach him? Remaining near the entrance, he rapped his knuckles against the metal. This, this was the least volatile way. And yet, as he peered into the dark of the practically derelict building: he saw nothing. Heard no one.

"Hello? Mr Vorshevsky?"

[benjaminvox]

FOR: @giordirossi EVENT: The Camp Out, 24'. WHERE: By the lake.

I'll go for a nice walk, he'd thought, what a wonderful idea, he'd thought.

However, when he'd rounded the corner, and spotted Giordana walking directly towards him, by some horrible turn in fate. Panic. Fuck. He still wasn't at full capacity, and while Benjamin knew he could fight: he was no match for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck my life.

With his stick in hand, he turned, and as quickly as he wished he was moving: he hobbled in the direction he'd been heading from.

Back towards the fucking secluded lake.

[amescastaignede]

FOR: @damonrutherford EVENT: The Camp Out. WHERE: Close to the firepit, but far enough away from people.

"If you've come to warn me about hurting your brother, too, you don't have to bother." A hiccup broke free from her lips, as she turned her head towards Damon, and offered a weak smile that bordered on...confused. Amélie didn't know how to act with the things she knew...didn't know how to feel. She didn't wait, taking another swig. It was some part of self-pity, the other was gut-wrenching guilt.

For being here, around these people. And doing nothing about it.

[odilestpierre]

FOR: @drrutherford EVENT: The Camp Out, 24' WHERE: Main grass, outside main tent.

If Lara could go for her brother, she could go for hers.

Childish? Maybe. But when Odile set her sights on something, she was often more hellbent on making sure it stuck, than anything else. It was like a hyperfixation that only lasted the time they were in the same space, but it dissipated this fast.

And he was easy on the eyes, that much she could attest too.

She cared little that most around her were dressed to the occasion of the event, while she, unable to ever truly let herself relax, had found her entire wardrobe sitting on her bed before she'd come to the decision of this -- first world socialite problems.

It hadn't taken too long to find the son of the man's estate they were all currently lodging in. Spencer would be close by, no doubt, and that alone was enough reason to draw her towards their ever-growing circle. But it was the dark hair framing blue eyes that she scanned for, once, then twice, until she settled upon him.

It'd taken ever less time for her to close the distance, until she was coming up on his side, and the corner of Odile's lips were tilting upwards. "Gideon," she called, voice lulling into something softer than she's used too. "I thought I'd come over, on behalf of my family and thank you for lending the estate for this wonderful event." Because she sure as fuck wasn't saying that to Lara. "And, I know this might be out of place, but I never miss a chance..." gesturing to his attire. "Spectacular, if I do say so myself."

[svetavorshevsky]

FOR: @mobscene-starters WHERE: Italian Food Festival.

Water sloshed with each step, two barrels being carried behind Sveta. Keeping her shoulders back, she attempted to keep her features stoic and withdrawn. Click clack went her heels against dusty, cracked concrete. This place held no hope. Windows were non-existent. And in the centre of the room sat Lisette.

That hadn't been too long ago, and yet Pavel had advised her not to come here. Well, to be honest, he'd outright told her she wasn't coming to an "Italian-filled festering pit of hell" — she thought maybe he was being overly dramatic, but what the hell. The second he'd been tending the Tasmanian devils that were their children, she'd slipped out the door without so much as a word. It was reckless, something she'd been coined for early on.

So as she walked through the crowd, Vitaly was four steps behind, looking like someone had slapped with a wet fish. She walked past each stall, and activity. The streets filled with people all around, her hands brushing over items as she passed occasionally. Being here though, had its intentions.

"I can see you staring," Svetlana purred, catching the eye of someone through the crowd, head tilting like a predator watching its prey, the corner of her lips curling cruelly. "Were you ever told that was rude, or do you people have no manners?" Maybe she'd gauge their eyes out just to teach them a lesson. It's something Olga might've appreciated in her hell-fire rein in Miami, just as Sveta attempted to replicate.

[yinachens]

FOR: @evrenosman WHEN: July 24' WHERE: Shady Grove. Ext. Outside.

Shady Grove was exactly what it appeared to be and was all in the name — in her opinion. It'd been somewhere she'd stayed the first few months after being kicked out of her parents. It'd been a shock to the system back then — a woman herald from privilege found herself below the poverty line. Barely able to feed herself for the first six months. And yet, the roof over her head kept her dry and safe. The contempt for the place wasn't the place itself, but the memories of the time she'd spent here. The loss had been so great back then. Eventually, it'd dulled.

After visiting a friend, walking down the road to get out, she spotted the lights on in Evren's place. The corner of her lip twitched, contemplating if she had it in her for another conversation, especially when the joint in her bag was calling to her. With a loo towards the gate, and then back to his, a sigh broke free from her lips as she yanked the backpack open and pulled out the smoke. It took no time for the orange flame to lick the front, burning feverent orange.

Yina knocked twice, loudly, before her back found the outside as she inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into the night sky. When the door opened, she gave a single wave. "Took you long enough," she said, teasingly as her perfectly plucked brow arched.

[msmelissalin]

FOR: @ayaz--ates EVENT: The Camp Out, 24' WHERE: Firepit. Night One.

She was the casualty of consequence.

A term that both she and Benjamin had found themselves in deep discussion when they'd driven here together. And now, she knew it to be more relevant than she'd felt realised in a while: the shift could be felt, even at the party, and while she'd tried to drop it, unfortunately, her job as second meant it wasn't often that she got to leave the world behind and relax.

Karma was either coming for her, or it was on her side...she hadn't quite figured out which one. But Benjamin's injury had put a lot of things into it's own mini-tornado...and she wasn't a happy lady. And yet, here, she was told...enjoy the fruit of their labours for offering themselves over for charity. Melissa did this for saving face, more so than joy.

The only problem with that? Relaxing brought too much to mind. She couldn't busy those racing thoughts with work. And without her phone, Carla wasn't a text away. She felt like a cripple without a cane.

She was avoiding the tent, at all costs. Though, as the hour got later, and more groups found themselves in merriment she'd already grown tired of for the first evening: she'd found herself sitting here, alone, eyes staring into the fire as she tried to quieten that unending thunder.

However, looking up from the fire, she found her eyes landing on the looming figure of Ayaz, peering up as she let her vision adjust and surprisingly (even to herself) she smiled. "You're still alive. Okay, good. Lara would be insufferable if something happened to you."

And so would fucking Melissa. (And his ex-wife, and now, a bone she'd pick later -- his girlfriend.)

[maksimkurylenko]

"Wouldn't take much, really," taking a slow toke of his smoke, grumbling a cough as it rumbled in his chest. "Half of these fuckers wouldn't know great if it hit them in the face." detatched amusement could be found in his eyes, blue dulling in the process. He could've almost felt bad for them -- almost. "Scream desperation," Looking at Roman, his brow arched. "Wonder who broke his fragile heart." Maksim was taunting, in one of those moods. Maybe it had something to do with the two men he'd shot and killed not two nights ago to protect Adriana. Maybe that was why everytime he looked at the Rutherfords...he felt...an imbalance.

Maksim smirked, corner of his lips tilting into something akin to a half-smile. "Hundred says he bottles it. Goes home alone." Because no respectable woman would see that, and think: that's the one. "Whoever did that was the biggest cockblock there ever was." but the laughter was bubbling, choking it down, as he let out a cough. "Anyway, where you going after this?"

Roman was pulling out a second cigarette when Maks spoke. "Huh?" But then he followed to where the other was pointing and let out a laugh. Well, that was actually pathetic. Back in Launceston, he'd see things like that on either bachelor party occasions or kids who just started college, running around in fucking weird ass shit.

"That's..." Sad? Pathetic? Pitiable? All those words fit and at the same time it felt as if there wasn't a right word for the situation over there. If that happened to him? He'd probably just use it as a hunting game. Shoot every single one with the shirts. They were even colour coordinated, thus a point system could be introduced.

"Imagine not being able to get laid, and then half the faction, making sure you never get laid again."

[keremdogulu]

FOR: @viktoriya-kurylenko EVENT: The Camp Out, 24' WHERE: The Fire Pit.

Kerem had seen Viktoriya sit down some ten minutes prior, and from the look of it: she'd needed exactly what he had...peace and fucking quiet. Not only were both his ex-fiancés in attendance, but a list of people who hated, which was ever-growing.

Not that he cared, well...he did, but that was beside the point -- his choice had been made, and there wasn't a chance to renege now.

Instead, he'd left the comfortable silence to be exactly what it was. Just that. Over the course of that time, he'd almost opened his mouth a grand total of six times, before it fell closed in fear of unsettling what was currently planning out to be nice. Not everyone had migrated over yet, and he was thankful for that. The evening had turned cold, more so, because the sky was clear and as his eyes looked above, he found nothing but the glare of London's light pollution bleeding through.

"You'd think on a place this big that we'd get better views." And while better than in the main city, it still left a lot to be desired. "House is nice, though...could half a fuckin' borough in it though." he wasn't sure if Vika would take the bait, their last conversation hadn't smelled of roses, but it'd been nothing close to dire.

[amescastaignede]

FOR: @spencerberkeley EVENT: The Camp Out, 24'. WHERE: Day Two. Out and about.

For obvious reasons, she'd kept her distance.

It came with great difficulty. It seemed everywhere she'd turned on night one, there'd been such a mass of them that she couldn't escape. In the end, she'd resolved to spend a good portion of her night sat on a log, some way up the trail trying to get herself into something akin to coherence.

This time, however, she'd have no such luck. A one-on-one encounter. Wonderful, she internally jibbed at herself, forcing what looked to be the fakest attempt at any smile, ever. "Spencer, it's nice to see you." she prayed that Gideon was close by because she wasn't sure she could handle the both of them right now. "I see you've got a better fashion sense today."

[odilestpierre]

FOR: @giorgiopecatti EVENT: The Camp Out, 24' WHERE: Their Tent. Poor people. She's disgusted.

This was a hell scape of polyester and nylon, at least, too Odile...who struggled with one thing: cleanliness. She hated the thought of dirt, the sweat, the old clothes being in the same space as her, but unfortunately, circumstances had thrust her into the realms of luck...and she was to be poor.

She'd almost laughed out loud: the words "In what world" on her lips, but she'd kept them quiet. Because decorum in public was still required...to a degree. Socialite meant cameras, and cameras meant stories...still, she toed the line more often than she should. What was life without a little bit of...spice.

And no, she didn't mean the drug.

Still, the question sat with her: did they think this would be a reality check? All it made her wish for, was designer bath bombs and her new loofah. There was one silver lining, eyes turning to find her partner: whom she'd been more than happy to throw a smile at when their names had been revealed.

What? A girl had needs, and hers were plenty.

"It's small...but we can fit...might have to bunk with me though, for comfortability" she knew what she was doing before they'd even spoken. All games, all fun. Still, she hadn't taken a step closer, eyeing it as if it might turn around and bite her. "What are they trying to do? Getting everyone to repopulate?"

She laughed, head falling back. "TWI becomes responsible for a baby boom, now that's a headline I never want to see."

[mrofontaine]

"...if coffee has a 35.7 percent alcohol content, then sure mate...it's coffee." in all honesty, he hadn't expected to find him here. "What the fuck dude," Olivier belted a laugh, a grin on his lips. Wow. He'd actually managed to find his bed the night prior: for once...it wasn't him. Tonight, however, he made no promises. "Obviously not old enough if you're still doing it..." he dropped into a seat. "I ain't gettin' you coffee..." he added a moment later. "I'm hanging out my arse."

THE NEXT DAY

He fell asleep by the fire.

"Tell me that's coffee." He said, as he slowly got up from the ground , cleaning off the dirt off of his shoulder. "Don't ask me. I was talking to someone, and I remember them offering me a threesome in their tent, but they wanted a chase game... I'm too old for this shit."

[clockworkreapers]

I'm watching Squid Game season 2, and I wanna know, How far on the games would the TFTGS characters make it?

Honestly no clue, I can hardly speak on what those guys would do in general other then: get into shit that they def tried to avoid before it can no longer be avoided or before someone (probs Jerry, its usually Jerry ) makes an active move to start the ball rolling. They aren't my characters, I just have the surface level knowledge and I know just as much about them as anyone else who is not the real Jack himself or the real people they were originally based on. That and I uh never watched squid game, it did not catch my interest.

[yinachens]

Yina looked back to the bakery, then back at Jazzy, a clear indifference present on her face about going back in. She wasn't trying to be rude, she never was, but her face did things that not even she could control sometimes. Even as she forced herself to smile at the woman before her. There was nothing wrong with her, she quite liked the woman to be frank. Yina just wasn't the best at the social aspect of things. No matter how hard she tried, and yes, it infuriated her. Beyond belief. But once that barrier was cracked, she didn't shut up.

She was a real life portrait of Rory fucking Gilmore.

There was an awkward pause, she was weighing up her options. She wasn't working at the Diner today, and her clients were all online. Pushing a job wasn't a hard task -- it was part of the freedom of it that she loved the most.

"I guess if your dad owns the place," Jokingly, she rolled her eyes, and just for a second something close to a smile graced her lips as her shoulders lifted into a shrug. "Okay, fine, I guess when you put it like that -- I really did want it." Yina admitted, as she turned on the step to walk back into the shop. "You're sure that your dad isn't going to care?" Because her father would have. Nothing was free, and she'd paid that price. Yina often wondered if they simply pretended she'd never exsisted, or talked about her as if she were dead. Such a dark thought for a girl to ever have to consider, she was aware.

"Sorry, what's your name?" Yina asked, realising she hadn't asked.

Jazzy shook her head a bit, "are you sure? I really don't mind." She felt bad though she definitely didn't want to argue with someone. Let alone make someone buy something they don't want. But then again, she felt as if she just ruined the other person breakfast or snack or even lunch. She couldn't help but offer again. "My dad owns the place, it's really no bother." Replying while nodding her head towards the bakery besides the them.

She couldn't help but notice the other's demeanor, wondering why she was like that. But then again everyone was different and reacted to getting bumped into differently. "Oh," she replied with widened eyes, "Um, well," she didn't know what to say. "I mean I'm biased but it really does." She said with a bit of a chuckle.

[benjaminvox]

FOR: @yvonne-rutherford & @emine--yalaz EVENT: The Camp Out, 24' WHERE: Night Three, outside main tent.

Benjamin had needed a break from being in there, a joint hanging from between his lips. Watching as the people around him formed into a groups, and disbanded all the same: it was in their drunkenness, hazed as they laughed, blurring in a haze as his back found a panel of wood to lean against. He wished George was here, he would've loved this shit. Then, he saw her.

"Yvonne, you look well," lighting the smoke.

[corvidaedream]

we're in rhode island now baby