wooltone

[wooltone]

oh, god. daphne slowly turns, finally allowing herself a glance at the person in question now that jake isn't looking. a flicker of doubt creeps in—had she just stolen someone else's seat? but with his easy permission, the guilt doesn't settle as deeply as it could have.

her gaze lingers, tracing the lines of his face, the way his chuckle softens at the corners of his eyes, boyish and unguarded. it catches her off guard. in a good way. maybe daphne is exactly where she wants to be.

"jake," she repeats, rolling his name over her tongue, tucking it away in memory. a small smile tugs at her lips. "well, jake, it’s nice to meet you. do you come around here often?"

Jake nodded casually into the pleasantries, noting the name and it's uniqueness and it showed, when he nodded thoughtfully through the guise she was telling him something a friend would find intriguing. "Well I don't really know that yet, I'm about eighty percent sure she'll claim that's her seat." Pausing, in thought. Amanda was adamant Amanda for a reason, "Just tell her Jake, me, was waiting on you. Daphne, and then thank her for the shots. Grab two." He said with a completely stone face until he broke with a joking smile.

[wooltone]

the gesture is so unexpectedly sweet that it catches daphne off guard—perhaps a touch of small-town kindness, a reminder that people could be far better than she ever felt she deserved. warmth spreads through her, melting her into a soft smile as she regards the stranger.

"i think i'll get something to drink," she muses, light-hearted. "how about this—i'll grab us both a drink, and you can cover the appetizer?"

The brunette cradled the lemon drop in between her palms. Live music was such an experience and at any opportunity , she took a chance to see some cool bands. It had been a slow day and getting outside of the house was a bonus. She leaned back in her chair nearly jumping at the question. She really needed to stop being in her own world. “No, you’re welcome to join.” She smiled warmly. “Did you want a drink or something? I was debating ordering an appetizer. I don’t mind sharing.”

[wooltone]

"thank you." daphne smooths out her dress before easing into the seat across from the stranger. for a moment, she says nothing, letting the hum of live music fill the quiet between them. but courtesy tugs at her—a nudge to bridge the gap between herself and the person kind enough to share their table.

with an easy glance in their direction, she leans in just slightly, her voice slipping into the space between them. "whatcha sippin' on?"

Sylvia was never one to pass up the chance for a night out, even if that just meant hanging out at her roommate's establishment for the evening. She was simply listening to the entertainment while babysitting a drink at a random table when someone approached. "Hi! No, go ahead, take a seat," she invited Daphne to sit with her with some excitement.

[wooltone]

where: suburbs, chandler's house. who: daphne & chandler. @chvndlr

it's one of those off-kilter days. daphne had stopped by pause for paws, only to discover that chandler had called in sick. so, she veers off course for the day, her tote weighted with over-the-counter medication and soup, ready to leave them at his doorstep in the suburbs. in hindsight, she realizes she should've texted more, waited for a proper reply—perhaps even called. but now, standing before him, daphne is caught off guard, unable to gauge what's exactly wrong with him.

"hey, champ," comes the greeting, blanketed in a gentle murmur. "how are we feeling?"

[wooltone]

a lighthearted, albeit polite chuckle promptly leaves her lips. while amanda remains absorbed by the bar, daphne seizes the opportunity to finally exchange pleasantries—her name included. "i'm daphne," she says, her head tilting toward him with effortless charm, playing up the image of two old friends enjoying a night out. "wait, i'm sorry—what do you want me to tell this girl again?"

He looked away again from his Amanda who he could've sworn he felt her glance just seconds before, happily chatting up the bartender now. But gut told him that would only last for so long.

"Might be. On her end." He told her, learning in to rest against the table top like they were two old friends relaying the days news and moods. "Maybe I look like the guy she's supposed to meet up with. If that's the case makes for an extra awkward blind date."

[wooltone]

though every instinct urges her to look back, she knows that to do so would be the cruelest thing she could do in this moment to this kind stranger. she remains still, turning toward him with a smile and a nod, as if their connection were as effortless and natural as breathing.

"what's the situation?" daphne asks, that smile barely shifting, her voice slipping right through it as if they were speaking of something entirely ordinary. "bad date?"

He was with the band, well, sort of. Helping the next guy that was performing out on the drums. And as the hour or two passed that he was waiting, not entirely sure he was actually ever going to go on, the last half hour was met with feigning a very adamant Amanda insisting the only seemingly two singles should shoot well, many shots.

So needless to say, Jake was more than enthused by Not Amanda asking for the seat, "It is. By you. And thank you, thank you, thank you. And don't look now—" he in fact looked himself, with a glance over her shoulder. "but I'm gonna need you to tell the lady with the shots that's about to come up behind you that you are in fact here for me."

[wooltone]

it's one of the many small things daphne appreciates—compassionate exchanges with strangers, fleeting moments of kindness that makes the world feel a little warmer. she's grateful for them than she's able to let on, her fingers lightly brushing the fabric of her own skirt as she settles into the seat across from the stranger.

"thank you," she calls out, her voice attempting to rise above the hum of live music in a polite and sincere gesture. "i'm daphne. it's nice to meet you."

Stelly probably spent a little too much time at Bonne Merde, but they chalked it up to the fact that their best friend was the owner of said establishment. And, after all, friends were meant to support each other, weren't they? Especially when it came to their business endeavors. That, and it really was a nice place to spend time and get a drink. Nice change of pace from Touchback.

Glancing up at the sound of a voice, Stelly felt a smile touch their lips and shook their head, "nope, all yours." As though to demonstrate, they gently hooked their boot on the rung of the stool and pushed it out a little bit to make room for them to sit. "And I don't even bite."

[wooltone]

where: bonne merde. when: march, 2025. who: daphne & open. (4/5)

it's something new daphne is trying—this whole going out alone thing. it shouldn't feel shameful, shouldn't feel strange, not for someone her age. and yet, stepping into bonne merde on a friday night, unaccompanied, to enjoy live music makes her feel absurdly out of place, as if every glance in the dimly lit venue carries some weight of judgment.

still, she presses on, scanning the room until her eyes find another solitary figure seated at a table. a flicker of hesitation passes before she gestures toward the empty chair across from them. putting herself out there—really putting herself out there—is another new thing she's trying, and the endeavor feels as awkward as it is daring.

"is this seat taken?"

[wooltone]

although daphne never fully grasped the culture of sports fandom, she understood enough that for someone like rhett, it was more than just a pastime—it was a matter of pride. and pride, she suspected, was the real reason he felt compelled to honor this bet, no matter how extreme the consequences. a curious glance casts toward the storefront, vague amusement ghosting upon delicate features as she huffs a quiet laugh.

"i mean—you still have time to back out," daphne tries, though even she doesn't sound convinced. a beat passes before she adds, "is there a fee for canceling at the last second?"

WHO: Rhett Ellington & OPEN (0/3) WHAT: Standing Outside WHEN: March 2025 WHERE: Mods WHY: based on the 😦 emoji.

"You think I could convince the people I lost a bet against that a temporary tattoo was real?" he shuttered, eyes focusing on the doors of the tattoo parlor. Maybe one of these days he'd convince himself that gambling on sports was more trouble than it was worth; that had been how he'd ended up here after all. A bet gone wrong; his betting team had lost which had resulted in the punishment. Getting a tattoo. Yet now that he was standing here - despite the fact he'd been planning the tattoo for months with the anticipation that he'd get it one day - he was feeling nervous. He guessed that was your first being the scariest was true for tattoos as well. "I made a bet and I don't know if I wanna follow through with my punishment."

[wooltone]

#wooltone. daphne is a full-stack developer who spent years chasing ambition in the electric pulse of boston. though she moves fast and works hard, daphne is learning to slow down, searching for a version of happiness that doesn't come with conditions. penned by zeal.

basic information.

full name: xiaotong gao.

nickname(s) / goes by: daphne.

pronouns & gender: cis woman, she/her.

sexuality: bisexual/biromantic.

date of birth: november 29, 1994. (aged 30)

place of birth: cabot, vermont.

arrival to merrock: 3 years ago.

housing: historical downtown.

occupation: full stack developer / software engineer.

relationship status: single.

pets: a male norwegian forest cat named tk, short for "the kitty."

faceclaim: havana rose liu.

personality.

daphne is witty and effortlessly cool, although she would never admit to either. she carries herself with a casual confidence—sarcastic, a little deadpan, always ready with a quip—but beneath that, she's pretty guarded. she's spent years learning how to exist in the world on her own terms, untangling herself from the rigid expectations of her upbringing. raised in a home where love was strict, measured, and sometimes edged with control, she struggles with softness—with letting people in, with allowing herself to simply enjoy without waiting for the catch.

at the same time, she is kind and thoughtful. always smiling, even when she doesn't have to, even when she isn't sure she means it. she remembers the little things—your favorite snack, the way you like your coffee, the song you mentioned offhand once. she's the type to walk you home, to check in when she knows you've had a bad day, to crack a joke just to make you laugh. she is someone who pays attention.

daphne moves fast, works fast, feels fast, but she's trying to change that, too. she wants to believe in softness, in comfort, in the idea that she doesn't have to be anything other than herself to deserve it. she just isn't sure how to get there yet.

background.

born in what she calls the middle of nowhere, daphne always longed for something more. she chased the hum of ambition to boston, where glass towers swallowed the sky and days blurred into the cold hum of a corporate grind. she paid her dues, clocked in, clocked out—waiting for fulfillment that never came.

when a better paycheck beckoned, she left the city's neon rush for merrock, maine. it wasn't the dream, but it was a step up from cabot, vermont—the place she once called home, the place she left behind. her family had been loving, in their own unyielding way, their affection wrapped in sharp edges and unsaid expectations. she's still learning to understand it, to accept love that doesn't always soften on impact.

in the calm of merrock, she found something unexpected—nostalgia for the hush of small-town life. at 30 years old, she's still overworked, still running, but here, the pace feels different. maybe she's ready to slow down. to listen. to figure out who she is when the world stops pulling.

just daphne.