theroadtohells

[theroadtohells]

"jesus," emir shouted, nearly stumbling over the girl. "are you alright?" he paused, part of him thinking did i do this? quick racing thoughts like i would know if i stepped on someone and they were bleeding, right? why does it smell like croissants? do i have sweets in my pocket? he messed with the pockets of his jean jacket - which did not hold any pastries - then, realizing what started the train of thought - bent down to help her. "what happened to you? lose a fight with a bear?" he said with a laugh.

status: open location: outside of enchanted falls general hospital tw: a small injury that drew blood, & stitches

three hours in the emergency room, four stitches, and a nurse practitioner who seemed to have been wearing all of the perfume in enchanted falls at once, and moonie somehow still managed to smell like the bakery exploded on her. and yet, all she could think about was getting back to work to set the morning buns out for room temperature proofing. the mere thought of kneading dough, however, caused the bread-knife-wound in her hand to throb with agonizing anticipation; and so she stopped to get an extra strength ibuprofen out of her purse. after some labored twisting, fumbling and light biting on the pill bottle, it finally opened--- and promptly sent the ibuprofen raining all over both the concrete walkway and a near passerby. "oh, i am so sorry," moon lamented, brows knit together in contrition before she dropped to her knees, injured hand pulled to her chest, while her free hand gathered the little white ovals up from the street. "i promise i'm not always such a damn klutz. i didn't get you in the eye or anything, did i?"

[theroadtohells]

text thread / @doesntthink

[4:02 am] do we have work tomorrow?

[4:02 am] don't answer that. i just realized we have work everyday. [4:04 am] kinda messed up when you think about it right? [4:04 am] like shouldn't we have a break at some point [4:31 am] you know what? i just checked the schedule. i don't have tomorrow. haha how crazy is that?? [4:35 am] do you ever think about our place in the universe... [4:55 am] do you want to get pizza?

[theroadtohells]

emir rolled his eyes.

"bartending doesn't exactly pay the bills."

(well, it probably would if 50% of your paycheck didn't go to paying for broken merchandise and the other 50% went to, well, buying the merchandise for yourself.)

"can't you do it on, like, exposure? it could be a pretty good case, right? local man fights-"

emir stole a glance at the latest ticket

"-for humble citizen's parking ticket-- hey, this one's fucked up. i don't even own a car."

emir looked up.

"that could be a case, right? 'you cannot give this man a parking ticket if he does not own a car.' that sounds... legal... ish. legalese. whatever you guys call it."

when emir realized he wasn't going to budge, he finally said, "i guess i could scrounge up the cash, or something."

he - most likely - would not be able to, but he really did not want to go to prison. it wasn't so much the idea of going to prison that scared him - even though he had a feeling he wouldn't like it - as much as the idea of leaving town would.

he felt a type of dread that was new to him, the kind he only felt when he was near huge bodies of water - he couldn't swim - like if he left town something terrible would happen. he'd explode into a poof of smoke. he'd asphyxiate. he didn't know. just something bad would happen.

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. (he usually was never one to get in his own head.) relax, emir, you just don't want to go to prison. nothing bad's going to happen. at least, he really hoped that was true.

"would you take a favor? or favors?"

location: disenchantment law firm

closed starter: hadley vinters | @violentdelightstheseviolentends

"hey, prince charming," emir quipped as he waltzed into hadley's office. the woman at the front desk did not have la croix and was frankly rude when he asked, so he already knew the service he would be receiving would be subpar at least and entertaining at most. hadly should be honored; at least he came sober.

"glad that you're helping out your old buddy with this one."

emir slapped a binder down on the table, not really caring what he knocked over in the process. owning a binder would be the closest he would ever get to organized in his life. but that would be the start and the end to it. it was nearly overflowing with tickets.

"sheriff basically told me that if i don't start 'paying' these that i would go to prison. and it's like -- can you relax? a few tickets never hurt anyone." emir sat down. "but i heard you could, like, talk to them or pay them or whatever and then i won't have to face consequences. pro bono of course."

[theroadtohells]

location: emir's house | kitchen / living room / eating area | night (description: messy one bedroom apartment that looks like it belongs to a hoarder. very dirty. wine bottles on all the counters. dirty pots and pans on the stove and counter stops. the sink is overflowing with dishes so emir had to angle the faucet to use the water. everything is vaguely sticky, even things that shouldn't be. you can't see the ground beneath... everything: dirty clothes, papers, books, takeout containers, everything. and that's just the kitchen...)

closed starter: @violentdelightstheseviolentends | leo thomas

"leo, i told you we can only do this if you relax." emir had never met a bartender as stressful as leo. actually, emir had never met anyone as stressful as leo. dude looked like he was born late to something. and he was not good at hiding it. ( if even emir noticed something; you knew it was obvious. )

emir took a sip from wine bottle, as leo blabbered on about... something. (i'll be honest, he always zoned out when leo started down one of his rabbit holes.) "uh huh. yeah. no definitely."

when leo stopped to take a breath, emir said, "are you done now? can we finish pregaming and go?" then, "are you gonna drink any of that?" this wasn't normally how people prepared for a night out, but, then again, nothing normal had ever taken place in emir's apartment now, had it?

[theroadtohells]

location: disenchantment law firm

closed starter: hadley vinters | @violentdelightstheseviolentends

"hey, prince charming," emir quipped as he waltzed into hadley's office. the woman at the front desk did not have la croix and was frankly rude when he asked, so he already knew the service he would be receiving would be subpar at least and entertaining at most. hadly should be honored; at least he came sober.

"glad that you're helping out your old buddy with this one."

emir slapped a binder down on the table, not really caring what he knocked over in the process. owning a binder would be the closest he would ever get to organized in his life. but that would be the start and the end to it. it was nearly overflowing with tickets.

"sheriff basically told me that if i don't start 'paying' these that i would go to prison. and it's like -- can you relax? a few tickets never hurt anyone." emir sat down. "but i heard you could, like, talk to them or pay them or whatever and then i won't have to face consequences. pro bono of course."

[theroadtohells]

location: the rabbit hole

starter: closed | @lvndersbloom: dylan graham

"hey, dylan, watch this," emir said, flairing a bottle of rum into a glass. (it probably would've been more impressive if she hadn't seen him break multiple bottles on multiple different days.)

he always tried to impress her when their shifts overlapped; she helped break up the monotony of what could otherwise be a boring day. (emir hated anything remotely boring, even if his idea of boring would overwhelm the average person.)

she brought a sense of stability to the bar. she would wake him up when he napped underneath the counter if their boss came around. and she'd hold him back from whatever stupid mistake of the day he wanted to commit. there was something about dylan that felt like home, even if emir would never admit it to her.

"did you hear about this flower fest thing going on?" he said, as he wiped down a glass. "i was thinking about going if you're interested."

[theroadtohells]

[text]: you know, in dog years we’re the same age

[text]: I think

[text]: besides I’m a very mature 26 so we’re basically the same age

[audio message of things clearly crashing and shattering in an almost cartoonish fashion]

[text]: I sent that by accident don’t listen to it.

[text]: and OBVIOUSLY yes! I wouldn’t have texted otherwise.

[text]: unofficial after party to that flower festival or whatever they’re having. It was great. Even SELENE came.

[text]: she did say that I looked like shit and left after I bought her a shot but regardless

[text]: you gotta get out more. Moping in your room isn’t a good way to spend your twilight years :(

[text]: and no going out to piano bars or whatever it is you do doesn’t count as “”going out””

𝙲𝙸𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽 𝚁𝙴𝚈𝙴𝚂 ⤐ text thread, closed to @theroadtohells ( 𝙴𝙼𝙸𝚁 𝙺𝙷𝙰𝙻𝙸𝙵𝙰 )

[𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝]: Of course I wasn't awake. [𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝]: 4am?? [𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝]: I don't know if i should be flattered or annoyed that you CLEARLY have no concept of our difference in age, but I can't afford to choose between gainful employment or nursing a hangover every time there's an event you say I "can't miss" several minutes later [𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝]: Have I actually missed anything this time? [𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝]: Please lie, if necessary.

[theroadtohells]

emir was only half there. his mind was slowly spinning down the drain, and the third, fourth, fifth ( he had lost count ) drink in his hand wasn't helping. ( he barely realized he was speaking to chariya until it was too late. )

"yeah but this town puts way too much of their money into the dumbest shit. like all of this is perfect. the flowers, the garden, the lights," he picked at a fairy light to admire it, but accidentally ripped it down. he gave her a wide eyed look as if to say, "let's keep that between us."

"this type of stuff is great, but then they put money towards the most random shit. like why do we need to fill in the potholes on the road? there's barely that many. besides, don't potholes make driving fun? and like, they're constantly repainting buildings? who cares, you know?

"but if you think about it. all organized stuff like that's dumb anyway. who needs leaders? we can all handle things fine ourselves anyway. i mean weren't people doing that for thousands of years anyway?"

it was only as the last words were leaving his mouth that he realized who he was speaking to. he blinked slowly, sober thoughts returning. "are you drinking that?" he asked, not waiting for an answer, and finishing her wine.

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓   .   kore's   spring   festival.

    𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧   .   the  garden   𝐟𝐭  .   ??   (   op​en   )

 “    it's   beautiful   ,   isn't   it   ?    ”     she   offers   ,   lifting   her   glass   to   her   lips   .   the   mayor   had   put   a   lot   of   effort   into   the   festival   (   or   rather   ,   had   made   chariya   put   the   effort   in   )   ,   and   they're   both   rather   proud   of   how   it   had   turned   out   .   candles   and   fairy   lights   filled   the   garden   -   lighting   it   up   as   to   ensure   the   kore   bloom   was   in   full   view   .

     “        spring's   all   about   new   beginnings   ,   so   they   say   .   think   you're   ready   for   one   ?   ”   

[theroadtohells]

Διόνυσος

╰          cis  man  ,  he/him/his ☆ 𝐎 𝐍 𝐂 𝐄 𝐔 𝐏 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀 𝐓 𝐈 𝐌 𝐄   …      we’re  introduced  to  EMIR  KHALIFA,  the  TWENTY-SIX  years  old  BARTENDER  at  THE  RABBIT  HOLE  from  enchanted  falls  who  bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  MENA  MASSOUD.  the  whispers  in  the  wind  tells  us  of their  PHILANTHROPIC  and  CHAOTIC  reputation,  that’s  why  the  townsfolk  often  are  reminded  of  a  finger  curling  on  the  monkey’s  paw,  neon  lights  illuminating  the  night,  sickly  sweet  smells  of  e-cigarettes,  and  a  road  to  hell  paved  with  good  intentions.    they  are  often  haunted  by  dreams  of  a  life  lived  as  DIONYSUS  (  the  golden  touch  of  king  midas  )  

tw: alcoholism, drinking, vomiting

tl;dr he drinks; he parties; he's a mess; he's a nice guy; he causes problems by accident and on purpose

i . statistics

full name : emir khalifa

age : 26

gender : cis man

pronouns : he/him/his

occupation : bartender @ the rabbit hole

alignment: chaotic neutral

ii . in the present

emir is drunk, and if he's not drunk, he plans on drinking, and if he doesn't plan on drinking, then he's drunk. ( starting to catch on ? ) he's at work at the bar. actually, he's not at work. he slept through his shift. ( how has he not gotten fired ? ) because he fell asleep under the bar. because his boss is just as insane as him. because everyone in this town is just as insane as him. no, don't listen to him, he's rambling. he's had too much to drink.

and he's in a good mood. he's always in a good mood until he's not in a good mood. and you're going to have the best night of your life with him. and you're going to have the worst morning of your life the next day, face down in a toilet. face down in a gutter, he overslept, he's a drunkard.

he's had too much. he needs a ride home. somehow, not quite known as the town disaster just yet. there are worst disasters to come by. besides, he's still a nice guy. he's still there in a pinch if you need him. he's still showing up to brunch, looking nice with sunglasses and a cute outfit. was he really that mess you saw last night ? sometimes, he felt like two totally different people. no, it's just you who thinks that. everyone else thinks he's fine. fine and normal. maybe not normal. but fine.

it's all in your head; maybe you shouldn't drink so much.

iii . in dreams

his dreams are always weird even if they are always different. he's had one where he's awoken on the beach only to be kidnapped by pirates. he's had one where he's bullied by a bunch of frogs. he's even dreamt that he was turned to ash and then reborn again.

but one dream kept repeating to him. in it, he was drinking. ( he usually was - dream or not. ) and he lost a friend. except not a friend. a weird mix of the feeling between losing your dog and your parent at the grocery store.

and in it, he waits in agony. he searches and searches, but he knows in his heart, he will not find him. like most dreams go, where you're aware you've lived this before but you still cannot get out. ( bound by fate. )

and finally, someone brings back whom he so dearly missed. his rage and fear and guilt all drift away. he looks at the person standing in front of him -- a face he can never remember when he awakes but seems so clear while he is asleep -- and thanks him, offers him anything in the world.

and when he hears what he wants, he feels a weird twinge of schadenfreude. the way you feel when someone asks to eat a spoonful of vanilla extract. lick a lemon. "do you think i can balance on this chair?" you know the outcome, but you watch the chaos unfold before you.

who would grant misfortune onto someone who gives them a gift ? what does that say about him ? the gift-giver or receiver ? what does that say about emir ?

maybe he shouldn't drink so much before bed.

[theroadtohells]

Mena Massoud as Prince Thomas in The Royal Treatment (2022), dir. Rick Jacobson