#nevernevada.start

[heldfate]

open to: everyone location: liv’s lil apartment that’s above the office of the four jacks <3 

It’s only half past three in the morning when the rapping at her door pulls Liv out of her very much needed slumber. The sign posted on the wood clearly says not to disturb her unless it’s an emergency… and Liv could only pray whoever this person was had been both illiterate and delusional for their own sake. The studio apartment-like area is crossed lazily, one arm lifting to swipe at her eyes as she avoided turning any lights on during the trudge. “Would you stop knocking so loud? You’re gonna wake the other guests!” Demand was called from a few feet off before the door was yanked open. “What?” Liv’s clearly annoyed, jaw falling slack as she leaned against the frame of the door. “Run out of towels? Somebody too loud? Honestly, all that couldn’t wait until morning?”

[deidiavoli]

location: toddy leash’s ice box opened to: everyone 

“Goddamn, I didn’t realize it was going to be this cold in here - although I should have guessed, shouldn’t I have?” Altan smirked, shaking his head as he grabbed a drink from the ice bar. “How are you enjoying yourself? It’s my first time here - the coolness is nice though, I think it’s about ninety degrees outside. Some kind of fall, right?” 

[la-sangradura]

open to: everyone location: lotus hotel & casino

It had been no more than a few weeks since the explosion, and Ilya had been bound to the Lysytsya Manor just as he felt he was regaining his freedom. When he had made his return seven months ago, it was a slow transition back to it all following an even slower translation of what his body still remembered in comparison to his mind. The rules, however, had been broken despite the best efforts of the Foxes themselves trying to protect their ceremonial figure heads. There was a bitter thought that had they not strayed— had they not bitten the hand that fed them— the incident could have been avoided. Against the advisement of legal teams and those in higher ranks, Ilya left the bland marble castle of his childhood home and back into whatever glamour Las Vegas could offer. He shouldered some looks, but the flash of recognition is what stuns. The revolving door of the Lotus Hotel spins one too many times as he passed through, knuckles burning where defense had demolished the blinding light whose click was mistaken for another weapon. His collar was pressed against his throat as he dragged inside, the fox pulled in by the scruff of his shirt. Eye contact with his savior, or another problem to be dealt with wasn’t binding as he tore himself away to the entrance’s bar, out of breath and tongue bitten under curses.

”What the fuck?” He muttered, finally English hitting the air. 

[eyesxindisposed]

open to: anyone  location: bar  reason: danii told me to after i joked about it. im so sorry bro 

there was something in him that felt a familiar presence, even among the bustle of the crowd. ismael didn't know what could have prompted him to look up, but he followed his instinct, and at the end of his gaze was a figure he’d thought was long gone. grin spreading wide across his lips, smiley straightened where he stood, calling out the other's name. as they turned, he couldn’t help his reaction. unmeasured, unbridled excitement coursing through him, he left his drink on the bar top where he had been standing, rushing forward. "where the hell have you been, loca?!" scooping his friend into a warm embrace, he breathed a laugh, taking a half-step backward. “i haven’t seen you in forever, dude, where were you?!”

[latinoblxod]

There goes his relaxing day in the park. He could be really clumsy, so he wouldn’t say that he never ended up kicking a ball on someone before, it was why he wouldn’t be rude to the person that caused it, but it was kind of annoying that he lost his cup of coffee, “I thought I was bad at kicking a ball,” he supposed could be worse, the coffee could have fell on him, which wasn’t what happened, it was on the floor. He was also wearing a white shirt, so if it had fallen on it, the stain would be a pain to remove. He knew how to do it, since he ended up dropping food and drinks on his own shirt more than once, but it continued not to be fun and a pain in the ass.

[alleyesonus]

Location: Killer Cupcakes

Open to: everyone

Starting her day at Killer Cupcakes was always a given even before her day had gone south. It started out fine. Berkan was there to greet her and they managed to get time in together before she had to leave. But then her car took forever to start. Then the line to get coffee took forever, and now? Someone had cut the entire line to order. “Are you serious?” Reyhan remarked loudly in annoyance. 

[ofparadice]

Location: Outside of Rousseau’s

Starter: Open

Jackson knew he should have ignored the card that was slipped so easily under the door of his own home. Forget about all about it and just focus on taking Thea trick or treating. He had done the latter, but instead of going home, he ended at the familiar bar, with the card inside his jacket pocket, heavy against his chest, like a ton of bricks. Whomever had sent the card knew where he lived, meaning they probably knew about his ex and daughter, so he had to figure out exactly what they knew. Surrounded my crowds was not his ideal night, but he had to make the best of it. Adorned on his head was a helmet with wings, since he had to be in the costume the card assigned him, and that was the most he’d dress up. He grabbed his pack of cigarettes before patting down his jacket in search of the zippo he held close to him, but came up empty, “hey you got a lighter?” He asked, turning to the person next to him.

[monopolytiles]

open starter 

Whoever was on the other end of her call had just received the most intense verbal lashing she was able to muster. But she wasn’t done yet, not at all. ‘And the next time I hear my name come out of your dirty ass mouth, que te la pique un pollo.’ and with that she hung up her phone and looked over at the person who just happened to look in her direction at that moment. “I’m sorry, but can I help you?” she asked with a slow tilt of her head, still very visibly upset by the conversation she’d had on her phone just a moment ago. “It’s not very fuckin’ polite to stare at people. So if you got nothin’ to say, keep it pushin’, hot stuff.” she wasn’t even sure if they had been staring at her, she just knew their eyes met her at the wrong time and she had no issues taking it out on anyone within a five mile radius until she finally cooled down. 

[laisuyin]

STATUS: open to everyone LOCATION: cytherea gallery

it had been an exceptionally busy morning. what she enjoyed about her work was the peace and the quiet– everywhere in the museum. the storage rooms and their strange stillness and the galleries with the ever present trickle of museum goers, who’s mouths only opened to gaze at works of art. the stagnant nature of the gallery seemed to be disturbed by a sudden influx of persons– it must have been a field trip or some sudden popularity gain she had not been informed about. her focus on her new exhibit blueprints is distracted when she sees a figure move too close to the wall. “ please don’t touch THAT. “ the tone is patient but stern; she can’t help but be protective of her work, in many senses. “ you can’t IMAGINE the amount of damage the oils on your hand can do to the canvas. “

[eleanorlanemd]

open to: everyone

location: anywhere

Being a doctor meant a lot of things to Ellie. Ever since she was a small child, often left to her own devices, she’d dreamt of growing up to become the type of person that helped others. Over the years that dream had grown, and changed, but at the root of it all, she still wanted that: to help others. 

Just... preferably during business hours. 

God forbid the woman ever run into a Walgreens wearing her scrubs, or forget to remove the hospital badge she required at work that identified her as a physician– she was almost always stopped by some random person requesting a consult on whatever self-proclaimed medical mystery they were experiencing. Though sometimes it did more harm than good, Google was a wonderful resource. Why couldn’t they just do that? As another of Ellie’s unhappy sidewalk patients walked away, the doctor shook her head and shot an exasperated look to the mildly familiar person walking up on her now. 

“I can’t imagine walking up to a hairdresser on the street and asking them for a haircut. Or, hell, a lawyer-- you’re not about to ask for a legal opinion from a stranger. So why doctors?” 

[jealousrot]

open starter ! location: the mirage

pacing on the outside of a loud and fantastical establishment was a flustered and frustrated amara, pink and white to the touch, sweat slick and feeling fiercely impulsive. she does not want to go inside. she wants to go inside. people walk in and out with the kind of ease that made her stomach churn, and after being lost in thought she notices a hole developing on the tip of her boot and she imagines screaming so loud that her eyes turn red with blood and she drops dead on the concrete. in reality, she’s looking slumped and distressed outside a strip club, because women and their shapes and their morphing skin and bones, fluid like a stream, terrible like a stupid makeup commercial, wonderful like everything amara has ever wanted to be and live inside the chest cavity of. half of her doesn’t know why this is such a big deal, why she can’t just go in and sit quietly in the back, order nothing, then something, then throw it away because her stomach can’t stand the thought. she is ugly and this is no place for ugly, not her ugly.

in a burst of white hot impulse, desperation on her like an ill-fitting sun dress, making her gawky and awkward and pink, she grabs the forearm of a figure seemingly about to enter. “ — please !” please what, you fucking asshole? “take .. will you take me inside? i’m being a ridiculous stupid fucking —  ass. and i’m  —  well, okay. i’m meeting someone and i’m scared to be alone.” it’s a lie. she’s alone as a drifting planet. “just walk me in, okay? alright?”

[heldfate]

open to: everyone location: your character’s doorstep, respectively

It felt like his life had stalled back at that train car. He didn’t remember much before the explosion, only the tear of his shirt and a blade slicing across his chest. The only thing stopping the blood had been his palms, but even blood had managed to seep between his fingers as until something else shot off. He remembers a mixture of smoke, sand, and dirt entering his nose, crawling down the back of his throat until it felt like he was suffocating. Brooks was having trouble remembering how he got out of there - didn’t know if he was dragged, got up on his own somehow, or was aided in getting up. All he knew now was that his footsteps were staggered as he moved along the alleyway, hidden by the shadows that used to keep him and the other Foxes tucked safely away into their own corner of Vegas. That safety was no more, evident in the way the coughs were becoming so violent that his throat became nearly numb to the action, and in the way his palm dragged across the bricks to keep himself upright.

He collapses eventually, on some kind of doorstep (inside, outside… he’s unsure), and nearly curls into himself to see if it would stop the pain in some kind of way. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t and he’s left in his own puddle of grunting and coughing after hitting the ground with a thud. If that didn’t give him away to the LVPD, then he was sure whoever’s front step he ended up at would do the trick. He didn’t care much, though, because Brooks was tired above all else in that moment. He knew somebody would come for him the next day, maybe slap some cuffs on his wrists and haul him away, but for now? For now, he could just hope he didn’t die right there in front of their door.

[deidiavoli]

killer cupcakes / open to all 

The entirety of what has been happening for the Foxes, for one Nadia James - it wasn’t good news. The explosion that happened, the many mistakes that followed - Nadia was enraged and so much of it was pent up. She always acted like the put together, conceited woman, but at the heart of it all - she was a psychopath and a psychopath could only take so much before they snapped. Walking into her own bakery that morning, Nadia thought of all the things that went wrong - and suddenly, a rage overtook her. She began to throw everything, baking sheets, dough she had set aside, muffin and cupcake tins - anything she could find and when she saw someone come in, she growled. 

“Get the fuck out or watch the bloody show! Would you like a sodding cupcake or a fucking rip to the neck?! Pick one, darling, I’m not very picky this morning!” Nadia screamed, throwing a premade croissant at the patron’s head, only to get quiet with wild eyes. “Today, I swear, someone will learn why this bloody bakery is called Killer Cupcakes, I swear to fucking God.” 

[la-sangradura]

open to: everyone location: toddy leash’s ice box

The lights washed away most of the color from those it settled on, a bright flash of white that flickered as it claimed its victim and then abandoned them just as quickly. Those it weighed upon, reminding them that the shadows were easy to break, didn’t seem to mind too much. The spotlights and their trembling grasp were short but the mess created by each and everyone was the same— spilled liquor, crumbled bills, and hands that trembled against cold of Toddy Leash’s ice box that reminded them to weary as they were all still flesh and blood.

Illya’s gaze moved across the crowd, taking in what was suppose to be familiar, until he realized that his attention kept returning to a certain part of the room. The light scattered over the dance floor again, and he felt himself stop. Ankles dug into the floor, stalling him, as he looked on. 

“I know them. Hey! Hey!” Ilya said to the person at his side, cold fingers pulling away from their grasp. He pushed through the crowd, desperation to hold on to the spark he finally had after weeks of unfamiliarity driving him towards them. A hand found their shoulder, bewilderment turning them to face them. 

[eyesxindisposed]

open to: anyone willing to potentially get shot ig location: rousseau’s, end of night

he heard the rustling before he saw the mistake in his vignette. sidearm pulled from it’s nestled place in the holster on his hip, he moved noiselessly from his office into the front of the bar. there was a lot buried in those cabinets and registers, tills still uncounted from solace found in liquor. each one a key to the final checkmate on the game of chess he played so deftly with his own sanity. the goings on in nevada set his teeth on edge, right to the precipice of calm and about to tip into mania. cyrus pulled back the hammer on his gun, the noise louder now he pressed his back to the wall that cornered the bar.

he glanced across, eye catching the pointed corner of a painted mirror quivering on an axis. noisy, sloppy, unprofessional. the tension in his shoulders eased, but only slightly. whoever was still inside his bar was less of a threat and more an idiot. and whichever dumbass forgot to luck up, the enforcer would have their guts for garters. cyrus had an inkling, but wasn’t expecting the confirmation glimpsed over the front sight of his glock. “hand outta the drawer. now, before i make you look like jesus christ.” annoyance bit at the edges of his words.

“turn the fuck around.” the soldier seethed, black irises trained on the shoulders of the thief in the night. 

[nevernevadastella]

LOCATION: Killer Cupcakes

TIME: Mid-afternoon

OPEN TO: All

Stella was working a shift at the bakery and her day had been going decently well. While it was extremely busy, that meant that the end of her shift would come quicker and she could go home and be reunited with her baby girl. It was never easy to leave her kid to go to work and in a perfect world she’d love to become a full time stay at home mom. But, that just wasn’t possible. So there she was, work t-short and apron on, trying to stay clam and collected while dealing with this asshole of a customer. He’d gotten upset when they were out of his “favorite” pastry and when offered a different flavor, he refused and was going on and on about how this place is a joke. “You know, you can just leave if you aren’t satisfied here,” the blonde points out, narrowing her eyes to him. A few choice words are exchanged and the older man slams the door after Stella is called a bitch. That sure wasn’t the first time she had been called that before as an assistant manager.

Blood boiling, she runs her hands through her messy hair and takes a deep breath. God, she hated people sometimes. It wasn’t until she realized that there was someone else in line that she snaps back into reality.

“Shit, sorry. Uh, what would you like today?” She replies, trying to jump back into being semi professional.