whodnnit

[whodnnit]

“If I could just will myself to relax, don't you think I'd have already done that?” Clementine doesn't mean to snipe, but her tone comes out clipped and definitely not relaxed and it's not her fault that horses are a lot scarier looking up close than she thought. She attempts to follow along with nice guy's breathing. One deep breath in, then one deep breath out. “The horse can what?” Okay, so that didn't work. She's freaking out again. She keeps darting distrustful glances towards the horse she's supposed to be riding. It'll be an experience, she told herself. Oh, this is an experience alright. “Trust her? We just met.” Still, despite the obvious hesitance on her part, and maybe some on the horse's, Clementine takes an apple from the horse guy. She very slowly, very carefully, holds it out for the horse to take. “Like this?”

🌺     *     𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑   closed   to   clementine   okojie       [  . . .  ]       @whodnnit       ╱       𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍   écuries   d'azur .

               ‘     ❃     martín  barks,    stressed  because  he  can  feel  demian’s  stress.    he  shushes  him,    lowers  his  upper  body  to  scratch  behind  his  ears  for  a  second,    comes  back  to  clementine  the  next,    after  he  quiets.     "  okay,    you  need  to  relax.    breath  in,    breath  out,  "     he  demonstrates  doing  the  exercise  himself,    his  chest  rising  and  falling.     "  the  horse  can  sense  your  fear,    your  hesitance,    almost  everything  you  feel.  "     the  mare  he  had  chosen  is  the  easiest  one  he  has,    the  most  tamed  one,    the  most  patient.    she’s  the  one  he  always  uses  for  difficult  guests,    but  even  then,    it  is  taking  a  lot  to  assist  clementine.     "  you  don’t  have  to  fear  her,    you  have  to  trust  her.    she’s  here  for  you,    to  help  you,    so   . . .   just  give  her  a  chance,    okay   ?   would  you  like  to  give  her  an  apple  first   ?   she  adores  apples.  "

[whodnnit]

There's something familiar about the pretty girl that's talking at Clementine. She looks around for a second — at least, she's assuming beach girl is talking to her. Clementine gets the feeling Daisy might've sent videos of her once or twice. She feels a little bad now that she only ever pretends to watch them before sending back something like omg cool or haha nice. “Oh. Yeah.” Clementine nods like she has the faintest idea of what the other girl's talking about. Something something tripod, something something hashtag influencer problems. No, wait, that's mean. Clementine smiles and tries her best to mean it as sincerely as possible. “I mean, if I tried to do what you do I'd probably have way more problems than just a tripod falling over now and then so, like, I'm sure some people are just more cut out for certain things. You with your... camera. And me with my, you know.” She raises the notebook in her hand, pages littered with incomprehensible scribbles.

—   set  at  le   mirage, open  to anyone.

"  the  thing  not  a  lot  of  people  actually  realize  is  just  how  difficult  it  is  to  set  up  for  filming  at  the  beach.  you  watch  the  end  product  and  it  looks  so  aesthetically  pleasing  but  they'll  never  know  how  the  tripod  tipped  over  three  times  and  i  got  sand  in  my  leggins.  "  grimace  appears  on  her  features  but  still  her  tone  remains  chipper.  as  she  swirls  the  drink  in  her  hand,  her  gaze  narrows  in  on  the  unassuming  person  who  had  set  down  next  to  her  at  the  bar.  "  not  to  say  my  job  is  terribly  difficult.  but  it  does  have  it's  challenges.  "

[whodnnit]

Clementine flexes her hands again, staring at her unblemished fingers. She used to think she wasn't the squeamish type, then she got into her first and only fight and as she watched the blood splatter across the pavement — her stomach turned. There was nothing beautiful about that red, dripping from a broken nose on a face she doesn't fully remember anymore. Daisy still brings it up sometimes, like a fun little anecdote to bring out at a dinner party. Did you hear about the time my older sister fought a guy for me? Idly, she wonders how these people would take a punch to the face. Would they cry at the sight of blood dripping down their expensive clothes? Would they call for daddy and threaten to sue her? She looks at Samuel again and wonders if he's ever seen blood that wasn't his own.

“I think my ego has to hit a certain threshold to qualify, and I'm not sure I'm there yet.” Imposter syndrome or something. Her agent's thrown that around a couple times now in her direction. Clementine's always responded with that's a funny way of saying humility. But she wonders sometimes if she's just lying to herself. Her friends back home keep telling her how she's changed. It's just a matter of time until she admits these people are her people now; Botox Brenda who can afford to keep paying for the impossibility of perfection and Lamborghini Larry who opens the passenger side door for a new gorgeous young woman every other night. “Let's make a pact to be pacifists for now then. For tonight at least.” She holds out a hand. “We could get drunk and make headlines that way instead. I've never had a scandal yet, you know.”

the  thing  is,  sam's  one  of  those  'big  egos'  too,  even  if  he  won't  so  readily  admit  it.  not  like  he  doesn't  know  it,  but  this  is  clementine  he's  in  the  company  of.  she's  undeniably  a  better  person  than  he  is.  right?  she’s  not  the  one  bitterly  staring  down  an  old  friend  across  the  room,  anyway.  he  has  a  feeling  that  midori  might  agree  that  he’d  be  part  of  the  population  who  shouldn’t  be  locked  under  one  roof  with  everybody  else.  sam  lets  himself  say,  “sure,  if  you’re  not  involved  in  any  of  it.”

not  that  he  has  any  intention  of  doing  that  tonight.  tomorrow  before  the  sun  comes  up  or  where  the  moon  doesn’t  shine,  maybe,  but  not  here.  tonight  is  meant  to  be  easy,  even  if  he  still  thinks  he’s  right.  terrible  idea  locking  the  entire  island  population  in  a  club,  really.  his  eyes  follow  clementine’s  gaze.  see?  point,  samuel.  “i  mean,”  he  starts  again,  brows  raised  in  curiosity,  “unless  you  want  to  be  involved  in  the  ego  pissing  content  and  fist  fighting.”  she  can  have  this  out  and  joke  around  about  it  if  she  wants.  the  words  make  their  way  out  of  his  mouth  anyway,  slowly  and  carefully:  “you’re  right.  seems  more  like  my  thing  than  yours.”

[whodnnit]

Clementine cracks the book open and does something sacrilegious, she flips to the last page. As a rule, she never does this. Who in their right mind would? But she just... doesn't care enough to keep the ending a secret for herself. “You better not be judging me for it,” she says to Kiha, even as she skims the page. Oh, no way, a baby? “It probably won't, but I've tried everything else. At this point I'm willing to do pretty much anything if it'll just jump start the part of my brain that lets me write.”

❛   bold   of   you   to   read   something   like   that   in   a   public   place   .   ❜   he's   amused   to   say   the   least   ,   though   he's   careful   not   to   show   it   as   he   glances   at   the   cover   of   the   book   .   kiha   hadn't   read   it   himself   —   adventurous   in   everything   except   the   genre   of   books   he   tends   to   gravitate   towards   but   he   can   see   why   a   writer   might   be   .   ❛   nicholas   sparks   ?   so   it's   depressing   and   steamy   ?   yeah   ,   you   have   to   tell   me   if   it   actually   helps   with   your   writers   block   .   ❜

[whodnnit]

“Just for the record, I do not have a foot fetish.” Though Clementine's insistence might make it seem the opposite now. Is it her fault that she knows her way around the internet? She doesn't think so. “I went on the website one time, just once! Just to see what it was like, y'know? I'm not on there, incase you were curious. Which like, of course I wouldn't be, but you never know with these feet people.” Does she sound a little disappointed? No, no, that would be silly. Clementine isn't upset she doesn't have a Wikifeet ranking. Really, she isn't.

“Okay. Thank you, then.” She tips an imaginary hat at Taesung. “You look nice too. Not that you need me to tell you that.” She turns back towards the bartender just in time to receive her next drink, a margarita. Now this she could get behind. As she starts sipping on it, she wonders, “would it be a bad idea to continue drinking? I mean, I feel fine. I'm nowhere near drunk.” A flat out lie. “But I just know tomorrow morning's going to be a nightmare if I keep going.”

it's  a  little  too  easy  to  bait  clementine  into  staying  true  to  her  words,  all  while  playing  up  just  how  naive  he  is  to  the  existence  of  this  website.  it's  not  that  far  fetched  really,  why  would  he  be  looking  up  pictures  of  celebrities'  feet  ?  "  mhm.  i  take  it  you're  a  regular  on  there,  "  he  nods  along,  like  he's  put  together  the  pieces.  his  brows  furrow,  glancing  down  at—as  he  remembers  it—his  closed  toe  shoes.  "  that's  oddly  specific.  have  you  searched  my  name  up  already  or  do  you  just  spend  extended  periods  of  time  looking  at  my  feet  ?  "  he's  thoroughly  amused,  at  the  very  least,  unsure  of  the  exact  criteria  for  clementine's  rating  system   he  doesn't  doubt  that  she  can  write  a  book,  though  he  can't  say  he's  never  read  one  of  hers.  never  exactly  the  reading  type,  much  to  nobody's  surprise.  but  who  knows,  if  taesung  had  a  book  dedicated  to  him,  he  thinks  that'd  be  reason  enough  to  pick  up  a  new  hobby.  not  as  if  he  had  any  other  commitments  during  his  time  here.  "  i  have  pretty  healthy  hair.  it'll  take  a  while.  "  taesung  shoots  a  glance  between  her  and  the  bartender,  wondering  if  anyone  between  the  three  of  them  knew  what  was  going  on.  "  it's  a  compliment,  clementine.  just  take  it.  "

[whodnnit]

Clementine winces ever so slightly. “On the whole I think it's pretty good actually. Entertaining.” She's struggling to come up with more positive things to say. “It's just... it's pretty hard to get over the way they kinda butchered St. James, you know? That's my...” baby? Precious creation? “Most beloved character,” she settles on. “And it just sucks that people kept walking out of the theatre with a completely distorted view of who she is. It like, hurt my heart. Genuinely. I don't know if that sounds crazy or not but... yeah.”

evening-ish, côte & co. bookshop

feat. @whodnnit

“well,  i  didn’t  know  you  wrote  the  movie  off  completely.”  in  all  honesty,  haram  hadn’t  even  watched  it  beyond  the  trailer.  too  busy  to  attend  the  premiere,  then  just  busy  enough  to  forget  she’d  wanted  to  watch  it  in  the  first  place;  diving  headfirst  into  juggling  multiple  projects.  “it’s  that  bad?”  sure,  she’s  read  some  comments  floating  around  but  it’s  different  hearing  it  from  the  original  author.

[whodnnit]

Clementine narrows her eyes at him. There's no way he doesn't actually know what Wikifeet is... right? Ah, well, fuck it. If he asks her about it later she'll just blame anything she says tonight on the fact that she's halfway hammered. “It's a website where they rate your feet,” she tells him, leaning in like she's whispering a secret, except with the noise in the room she can't actually be whispering. “I bet you'd get a...” She squints down at his covered toes, staring hard at his shoes before coming to a decision. “Four point six eight stars.” Specific. Clementine has no idea where she pulled that number from. “That's out of five, by the way.”

If you ever finish it. Clementine groans. She keeps jotting down ideas only to scrap them immediately. Nothing's been sticking lately. Everything sounds terrible the second she puts it down on paper. “Here's to hoping I manage to get it out before either of us turn grey.” She flags the bartender down again, this time not even bothering to order anything verbally, just making random gestures with her hands until the bartender nods and goes to fix up something she'll probably regret ingesting. “Oookay, Mr. Flirt.” She laughs. Not that she doubts she looks nice, 'cause the stylist and makeup artist really did work miracles on her for tonight, just that she doubts she's topping anyone's list. “No need to exaggerate. I'll take third or even fourth best, y'know.”

he  nurses  something  simpler  than  the  jello  shot  clem  seems  to  struggle  with,  tequila  on  the  rocks  since  he's  committed  to  the  alcohol  of  choice  for  the  night.  taesung  pauses,  and  almost  laughs  at  clementine's  words.  wikifeet  ?  it  had  to  be  one  of  the  stranger  questions  she's  asked  him,  surely.  "  what  is  that  ?  "  taesung  asks,  feigning  innocence.  he  does  know,  or  at  least,  can  infer  it's  something  along  the  lines  of  celebrities  and  their  feet.  but  he  thinks  it  would  be  funny  to  hear  her  spell  it  out  for  him.  "  well  now  you  have  to  tell  me.  there's  no  take  backs  in  this  world.  "  it  wasn't  like  one  of  her  books,  where  you  could  erase  a  line  here  and  there  when  you  felt  like  it.  everything  said  would  exist  forever  and  on. "  my  god,  it'll  be  great.  especially  if  you  ever  finish  it.  "  he  jests,  though  he  doesn't  exactly  know  the  timeline  for  how  long  a  book  should  take.  up  until  six  months  ago,  his  life  followed  a  linear  path  of  working  towards  timed  goals.  world  championships  every  year,  olympics  every  four.  maybe  there  was  some  agent  in  the  back  pushing  something  out  of  clem,  or  maybe  she  could  afford  to  take  it  easy.  "  you  nailed  it  then,  best  looking  girl  in  this  club,  "  he  answers  back,  charming  smile  following.  he  thinks  he's  said  the  same  line  to  about  six  other  girls  here.  whatever,  it's  the  thought  that  counts.  something  to  validate  clem  going  out  of  her  way  to  wear  a  shitty  pair  of  shoes.

[whodnnit]

Old money and new money, it's all the same to Clementine. That being the fact that she feels she's completely outside of both. She still feels too small for a lot of this, the luxury and the elegance and the cameras. Samuel seems to wear it all much better than she does.

“Mmm, but watching those big egos clash is half the fun of these things, don't you think?” At any point Clementine could tune into a conversation and hear barbs traded under flowery, fake language. She's been working on decoding it for most of the time she's been on Azure. She pretends it's for the sake of authenticity. (If she's going to write a character with a wealthy background into her next book, it's better to get it all right.) But really she just gets nosy. “Oh yeah, I'm super ready to throw down.” She snorts. She's definitely more of a flight than a fight kinda girl. But, as someone walks by in her periphery, perhaps it just depends on the opponent. “Never say never, right?” Clementine mumbles, eyes trailing after Anika's figure.

sam  doesn't  roll  his  eyes,  exactly,  but  it's  a  near  thing.  at  least  it’s  a  welcome  distraction,  enough  to  tear  his  focus  away  from  where  midori  d’amore  stands  across  the  room.  he  has  a  fine  —  good,  even  —  companion  indulging  him  right  now.  what  does  it  matter  what  midori  is  doing?  his  eyes  find  clementine's  grin  and  stays  there.  let  her  be  the  one  to  watch  midori  instead.  he  says,  "just  meant  that  the  entire  island's  old  money  population  being  in  an  enclosed  space  with  the  rest  of  us  seems  like  a  terrible  idea."

he's  joking,  mostly.  it  doesn't  stop  him  from  adding,  "maybe  we  should  exclude  some  of  them—us.  can't  be  a  conducive  environment  with  so  many  big  egos  in  the  room."  a  smile  follows  to  match  clem's,  amused  around  the  edges  as  she  flexes  her  hands.  "heard  mine's  around  the  size  of  this  place  already.  not  a  lot  of  space  left  for  the  rest  of  you."  and  then  he's  reaching  over,  tapping  the  back  of  one  of  her  palms  teasingly.  "i'll  pass  on  talking  about  it,"  sam  concludes.  "you  can  use  those  hands  to  block  the  cameras  if  she  comes  over  wanting  to  talk."  that's  about  as  likely  as  clementine  being  in  a  physical  fight,  but  she  doesn't  need  to  know  that.  "no  chance  of  you  upping  the  fight  counter  tonight,  then?"

[whodnnit]

A vein twitches along Clementine's forehead. What is it about her that makes people think oh, I bet she'd love to hear my unasked for opinion about her books? The worst part about this is probably that she's read Stephen Graham Jones. She likes Stephen Graham Jones, enjoys the way he blends genres together to tell a chilling story that sticks with you for days after. But she feels like she'd be losing if she admits that to Evie, so she keeps that to herself. “The charm of whodunnits is that there's a chance you could figure out the who yourself. You've got a finite list of suspects, and a couple clues peppered in throughout the story. If I started throwing in shit like aliens or ghosts or mermaids, that'd be making things way too hard for my readers, don't you think? No one's gonna be able to guess Bigfoot did it, and then they'd all be pissed at me.”

starter 4 @whodnnit !

“   i'm  not  saying  you  have  to  copy  stephen  king.  i  don't  even  like  king  !  my  favorite  stephen  horror  writer  is  stephen  graham  jones.  but  i'm  not  even  saying  to  copy  him  either.  i  just  think  that  it's  a  little  boring  to  have  the  killer  always  be  a  person  and  not  a  supernatural  being.  i  mean,  it  was  aliens  all  along  is  just  such  a  cool  twist  !  don't  you  think  ?  it  really  adds  a  lot  to  the  worldbuilding.  makes  it  all  feel  less  empty.  and  less  predictable.  ”   nurse, she's on her tirade again ! evie's gaze on clementine's is expectant, as usual, as if today might be the day she convinces the other to break from the format and release a horror novel.

[whodnnit]

So, as expected, by the time a glass gets to her hand, it's not at all what she asked for. It's in a shot glass for one, and, is that jello? What the hell, sure. She throws the jello shot back and chews carefully as she strains to catch what Taesung's saying. “You think you're on wikifeet?” The question slips out before she's even aware of the thought passing by. Clementine, you are drunk. “Uh, wait, just pretend you didn't hear that.” She waves her hand as if she can physically erase the moment. All that champagne seemed like a good idea at the start of the night...

“Deal. You're going straight into the acknowledgements, my man. Might even dedicate the whole thing to you. Confuse the hell out of a lot of people.” She laughs, mostly because the idea of even finishing the book at this point seems impossible. “Okay, well, I didn't want to fit in, I wanted to look hot.” Any other time and the words I wanted to look hot coming out of her own mouth would be mortifying, but she's buzzed enough to not feel any shame. “They said to dress up! So I did!”

he  watches  amused,  wrong  drink  orders  passed  back  and  forth  that  make  him  stifle  a  laugh.  his  voice  is  louder,  more  prominent  against  the  bass  that  consumes  the  room,  as  if  he  could  very  easily  step  in  and  make  this  ordeal  easier  on  everyone.  except,  he  doesn't.  he  orders  his  own  drink,  loud  and  clear  and  perfectly  heard  by  the  bartender.  "  used  to  be,  "  he  mumbles  over  the  rim  of  his  glass,  low  enough  for  clem  to  only  catch  his  lips  moving.   "  yeah,  think  they're  like  insured  or  some  shit.  probably  wouldn't  be  a  good  look  to  have  my  ankle  sprained  by  a  heel  three  sizes  too  small.  "  taesung  only  pretends  to  think  about  the  offer,  like  he  hasn't  already  listed  it  off  as  the  kind  of  favors  that  would  be  no  big  deal.  "  first  page  mention,  and  you've  got  a  deal.  what  exactly  possessed  you  to  wear  heels  that  you  can't  walk  in  though  ?  it  makes  you  stick  out  more  than  fit  in.  "

[whodnnit]

“Sorry, bestie, but nothing can get in the way between me and justice. Not even you.”

The hey, two, brute! gets a laugh out of her. It's always kind of refreshing being in Shiloh's company, like he's offering a perspective no one's ever had before.

Clementine groans. “Reading isn't anyone's thing anymore. Sometimes I feel like an endangered species.” Patently false, since her books have sold well enough to get her here, but it still often feels that way. Should she thank TikTok for the fact that she's managed to gain some sort of foothold as an author? She's pretty sure BookTok is responsible for at least half the people in her age group and younger going back to bookstores again, even if they're usually only looking for schlocky romance novels. “Books are so fun, Shiloh. I don't know why no one believes me.”

The mention of the movie makes Clementine wince a bit. They took a lot more liberties with Detective St. James' character than she was expecting, and some of the actors they hired... well, suffice to say, Clementine didn't walk out of that theatre happy. Somehow though, it does help that Shiloh likes it. If it made him happy, she supposes that's good enough in some ways. “Yeah? I'm glad you liked it. No Sherlock Holmes slander in my house though, that's my first crush you're talking about.”

pressing  his  hands  to  his  chest,   shiloh  twisted  his  features  into  a  look  of  mock  betrayal .  ❝  you'd  rat  me  out  ?!  and  here  i  thought  we  were  best  friends  forever ,  never  to  let  the  world  come  between  us .  ❞  dramatic  as  he  was ,  his  hands  shifted  to  his  abdomen ,  feigning  pulling  a  dagger  from  his  stomach ,  a  look  of  shaky  disbelief  in  his  eyes .  ❝  hey ,  two ,  brute  !  you  think  you  know  someone  !  ❞  dropping  the  act ,  he  offers  a  smile  that  doesn't  reach  his  eyes ,  her  last  comment  stinging  even  if  he  won't  admit  it .  ❝  i  dunno  ..  at  least  a  dozen  ..  reading  isn't  really  my  thing ,  you  know  ?  i  really  liked  the  movies ,  though .  your  detective  was  way  more  badass  than  sherlock .  ❞

[whodnnit]

Clementine considers what they look like — dressed to the nines sitting side by side, like the things coming out of their mouths should be dripping in decadence. There's nothing particularly elegant about the look Samuel shoots at whoever's across the room, though. Clementine takes a look herself. Pretty yellow dress, and... oh, sneakers peeking out under the hem. Why didn't she think of that?

“Well, inclusivity is like so totally in right now, didn't you know?” She grins. Azure is at least more sincere with it than most places, but you put enough rich people in a room and things can't help but end up feeling like pretence. “You going to get into something tonight?” She glances back to the girl with the Converse shoes, who looks ready to fall asleep any second now. “I'll help you block the cameras if you do, just don't expect backup if it gets physical. These hands are precious.” She flexes her hands in front of her face, only to drop them back down on her lap when she starts cringing internally at herself. Ugh. These hands are precious? These hands haven't even been able to get out a first chapter. “But, uh, I've also heard talking it out works. Sometimes.”

setting  .  l'eclipse  at  the  inauguration  after  party,  some  time  after  10pm.

status  .  closed  to  clementine  okojie  (  @whodnnit  ).

the  music  thrums  in  the  background  as  samuel  leans  back  against  his  chair,  the  long  exhale  drawn  out  of  him  almost  dramatically.  it’s  not  tiredness,  really,  but  it’s  easy  enough  to  let  his  guard  down  around  his  current  companion.  his  gaze  sweeps  across  the  room,  landing  on  someone  on  the  other  side  of  it.  a  low  hum  leaves  his  lips,  and  then,  without  turning  to  look  at  clementine,  he  says,  “sometimes  you  gotta  wonder  why  management  wants  all  of  us  under  the  same  roof  so  badly,  right?  can’t  imagine  no  fights  breaking  out  tonight.  at  least  one,  probably.”

[whodnnit]

So this is what she gets for trying to talk to someone? For trying to be friendly? (They're shit.) Okay, God, smite me then. “Haha,” Clementine says in place of an actual laugh. She's maybe not the best with strangers, but usually conversations go better than this. She takes a long drag from the shitty cigarette to recover from the embarrassment, but if it's actually bad she can't tell. Even after all these years of smoking on and off she's never developed a palette for any of it.

If they're so shit then why do you still smoke them? She wants to ask. “You know, they've got super specific flavoured cigarettes now. My agent got me these green apple ones, but they tasted kinda off. You ever think about trying one of those? There's one that tastes like gum, too. Perfect for after brushing.”

uninhibited  at  the  age  of  sixteen  ,  romeo  found  the  act  of  smoking  meditative  at  its  best  &  unforgiving  at  its  worst  .  often  burning  through  bills  faster  than  a  cigarette  just  so  he  could  spread  the  wildfire  in  his  chest  ,  never  clearing  the  smoke  before  lighting  a  new  one.  his  lungs  were  greedy  for  it  ,  chasing  for  that  inhale  until  his  pack  of  lucky  strikes  were  empty  .  dependency  just  a  word  he  thought  he  was  strong  enough  to  quit  ,  but  the  word  forgiveness  had  yet  to  breach  the  surface  when  he  considers  how  at  the  age  of  eighteen  romeo  spent  more  time  stealing  money  to  replenish  the  pack  than  he  did  trying  to  earn  it  . 

now  he's  here  .  a  decade  &  some  change  later  ,  smoking  like  a  kid  who  can't  get  enough  .  each  hit  like  a  reminder  of  the  past  — those  memories  haunting  his  every  exhale  . 

“  they're  shit  ,  ”  he  corrects  ,  tapping  the  ash  toward  the  ground  ,  “  s'why  they're  cheap  .  ”  and  he  looks  to  clementine  without  irony  ,  as  though  ensuring  she  doesn't  have  to  appease  anyone  but  herself  .  if  she  likes  the  lucky  strike  ,  then  that's  on  her  ,  not  on  his  cigarette  offering  .  “  the  taste  sticks  with  you  after  you  brush  .  ”

[whodnnit]

Ah, clue. A beloved pastime she's been banned from indefinitely for getting 'too intense' during family game nights. Her arguments that they weren't getting intense enough naturally went ignored. “Oh, but I'd know. Colonel Mustard, you're not getting away with anything with me on the case.” She smiles then, but it wobbles precariously when he says Agatha Christine. Oh, that one hurt. “Just curious... how many books have you actually read, Shiloh?”

𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭  :   closed  starter  ,  @whodnnit 𝐰𝐡𝐨  :   shiloh  &  clementine 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  :   the  grand  pavilion  ,  around  10pm

❝  this  kinda  thing  reminds  me  of  clue ,  ❞  shiloh  began ,  nodding  sagely  —  or ,  as  sagely  as  someone  who  had  no  idea  what  they  were  talking  about  could .  ❝  i  could  be  colonel  mustard  in  the  ballroom  with  the  lead  pipe  and  none  of  these  people  would  know !  ❞  grinning  at  his  perceived  cleverness ,  shiloh  offered  a  nonchalant  shrug  in  clementine's  direction .  ❝  or  it  could  like  something  out  of  an  agatha  christine  book  —  or  one  of  yours ,  obviously .  detective  st.  james ,  on  the  case .  ❞

[whodnnit]

#me after being online for five seconds

SYDNEY ADAMU in THE BEAR 3.09: Apologies

[whodnnit]

“Aha, that's where you'd be wrong, because I do all my searching on incognito. You're not finding anything.” A habit she's formed from her younger years, worried about the nature of her research for her writing. How long does it take for a dead body to start to smell? How to clean blood out of bathroom tile grout? How long does it take to bleed out from a slashed throat?

“You know, I don't really think you have to worry about that.” The people around them have been giving them a pretty wide berth. Sunji's resting why am I even here face has been a pretty effective deterrent this whole time. “But yeah, sure, guess I'll clock in for my convo buffer shift.” She laughs a bit, before eventually reaching out to snatch away Sunji's knife too. Might as well call her Smaug with all the shiny stuff she's starting to hoard. “You showing up to the afterparty? It's lots more people packed into a smaller space, but should be easier to tolerate with a drink or five.”

as   much   as   they   would   scold   themselves   for   it   later   on   ,   he   couldn't   help   the   soft   chuckle   escaping   at   her   words   .   the   entirety   of   her   ramble   he   tried   his   hardest   to   keep   it   sealed   inside   ,   yet   the   face   paired   with   it   .   .   .   the   sheer   and   utter   earnesty   she   takes   upon   his   complaining   -   plus   ,   the   way   she   dilligently   removes   the   forks   (   most   certainly   in   belief   sun-ji   wouldn't   notice   )   ,   was   what   broke   the   camel's   back   .   “   if   I   went   through   your   search   history   right   now   .   .   .   would   there   be   something   about   cutlery   ettiquette   or   plain   out   which   fork   does   the   most   damage   in   a   fight   ?   ”   knowing   smirk   still   present   as   he   took   clementine   in   .   “   every   time   I   hear   someone   tell   me   that   only   makes   me   want   for   the   fork   even   more   ”   paired   with   a   sigh   that   was   meant   to   signal   his   yearning   for   a   way   out   .   “   but   ,   yeah   .   now   that   you're   here   ,   chances   are   a   bit   higher   that   I'll   enjoy   this   night   ”   and   for   the   first   time   ,   suni   rose   their   gaze   to   meet   hers   .   “   after   all   ,   I   can   use   you   as   a   shield   if   anyone   tries   to   talk   to   me   ”   there   it   was   again   ,   that   devious   glint   in   their   eyes   . 

[whodnnit]

Well, since she can't exactly order the big h off the menu, she decides instead to order another drink. The bartender doesn't fully hear her over the music, or the other people, repeating back her order, except it doesn't sound exactly like what she said. She accepts defeat and just gives them a thumbs up anyway. She's buzzed enough now that one wrong drink won't ruin the mood she's accumulated so far. “Yeah, you're better off without ever putting these torture devices on. Your heels would never survive, and I'm sure your feet are a lot more valuable than mine.” Clementine winces as she re-adjusts her position. God, if only looking good didn't always come at a price. “Any chance I could convince you to piggyback me for the rest of the night? I'll make sure to give you a special dedication in the new book, if I ever get around to actually writing it.”

"  amateur  stuff,  really.  they're  all  about  the  big  h  right  now.  "  now  he's  pulling  it  out  of  his  ass,  pressing  his  lips  together  to  hold  back  a  laugh.  of  course,  for  most  of  his  life,  taesung  could  never  really  afford  to  fulfill  the  true  role  of  being  a  party  boy,  what  with  a  rigorous  schedule  and  routine  drug  tests.  he  was  reckless  only  in  the  calculated  kind  of  ways.  but  clem  always  looks  a  little  too  eager,  and  he  wonders  if  anything  he's  ever  said  will  make  it  into  her  book.  "  i  really  did  think  about  it,  but  i  don't  think  i  have  the  legs  to  pull  it  off.  or  the  feet.  "  azure  isle  has  made  him  a  changed  man,  because  taesung  can't  remember  the  last  time  he'd  worn  closed  toe  shoes  before  tonight.