he said i was the flower of the mountain

ANNE-LOUISE F. OOSTERHUIS. thirty-five. art teacher & bartender. fiber & textile artist, whimsigoth queen. spinster barbie of weaver ridge! blue harbor, illinois.

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

i. biography. ii. statistics. iii. connections.

NAME / Anne-Louise Felicia Oosterhuis AGE / 35, born on March 1st, 1989 GENDER & PRONOUNS / Cis woman, she/her ORIENTATION / Bisexual MARITAL STATUS / Single HOMETOWN / Blue Harbor, Illinois RESIDENCE / Weaver Ridge, Blue Harbor, Illinois as of 2018 OCCUPATION / Art Teacher at Blue Harbor Elementary School, part-time Bartender at O'Shea's

SUMMARY,

trigger warnings — homophobia/lesbophobia mention, bullying, anxiety (society anxiety), mental health, true crime mention.

The daughter to a lesbian couple, Anne-Louise grew up incredibly loved and protected. To the point of detriment. Hilda and Pauline knew about the dangers of the world and wanted to save Anne-Louise any of the heartache that came with it, but it gave her heartache in other ways. It made her a timid girl, deathly afraid of her peers, and an easy target for bullies. Suburban Illinois in the early 2000s was a different place, and with two moms, some of her classmates used that to ostracize Annie. She had friends and was generally liked by most of her peers, but there was a subset that found it was incredibly easy to rile her up and used that to their advantage all throughout grade school.

It wasn’t always terrible, though. Again, she had her friends, and her teachers always commented on how well-behaved she was. Her true sanctuary, however, was her home. Anne-Louise never felt better than when she was on the couch with her moms, or curled up on her bed reading a book. It made her moms happy, too, to know her whereabouts at all times. The Oosterhuis family spent their holidays and weekends together for nearly every minute, often watching true crime documentaries, which did not help young Annie-Lou’s anxiety. Hilda and Paulina, but Hilda especially, were needlessly strict with their daughter when she never really craved more leeway; she was much more interested in playing The Sims than talking to weirdos on the internet, and she never wanted to go anywhere alone. She had never been the type to roughhouse, and no one in the world would've described her as daring.

Her love for art started at a young age when she learned how to knit her first hat at an afterschool program (her mothers both worked, Hilda as a Nurse and Pauline as Physics Professor at BHU). She found a peace in the focus it took to not drop a stitch, or to make sure she sewed in a straight line. Her affinity for fiber arts developed into a passion for all art, which she majored in at BHU after fighting with her parents for a long time about it—they wanted her to go down a more practical path, but Anne-Louise rebelled for the first time by compromising with them. She’d get her BFA in order to start working as an art teacher. Working in a school, the place that she hated for so long, was reclaiming her power.

Which led her to teaching art at Blue Harbor Elementary. Of course she wouldn’t stray far from her hometown, feeling no desire to venture out of its confines. Her family’s in Blue Harbor, so why would she ever need to leave? However, she did need some independence from her parents, so she moved out of her moms’ house in Laurel Village—a little too late according to some people, already twenty-seven and a few years into teaching, though Annie claims she just wasn't ready yet—into an apartment in Weaver Ridge, much cheaper (and shittier, naturally) and closer to her other job.

Her other job? Bartending. In college, Anne-Louise started working at O’Shea’s Irish Pub, owned by family friend, in order to help her social anxiety and make some money. It was only supposed to last until she graduated, but with how little she came to find out she’d be paid as a teacher, Anne-Louise returned to O’Shea’s begging for her old job back, which her boss David was more than willing to give her. She works part-time there now, taking random evening shifts and working every weekend and holiday to supplement her income. Now that Leon—her former childhood crush, turned mortal enemy due to a dating mix up that left her staying up all night for him to take her on a date when he he had already left town earlier that day—owns the bar, however, she’s constantly rethinking her employment.

She’s settled into a pretty comfortable routine, but still regularly suffers from anxiety. Still, her life has much improved from the scared, nervous little girl she used to be. Her moms are still heavily involved in her life, so she’s often still trying to gain independence from them and finally feel like a real adult, but their protectiveness is comforting and always readily available. Her passion for art is growing every day, and while she will always prefer quilting, knitting, and sewing—art that feels more tactile in her hands—there is never a time in her adult life where she’s not overcome with appreciation for art and beauty. And there’s nothing that makes her life worthwhile more than sharing that appreciation with her beloved little students!

PERSONALITY,

Anne-Louise is an all-time, infallible, notorious Good Girl™ and constantly competing against Phoebe Yates and Rachel Han for the Nicest Woman In Blue Harbor Award. That last part is a joke, but she does have a reputation around town for being incredibly sweet and always happy to help… AKA a total pushover. This is mostly a defense mechanism stemming from the bullying she suffered in middle school that’s lasted her whole life, but she’s (usually) genuine in her efforts to be kind to everyone. Unless you’re Leon Wozniak, or a few other choice people around Blue Harbor. Her dislike comes out either as passive aggression or childish insolence. She has a hidden vindictive side that rarely gets to come out, so when she truly doesn’t like you, her efforts to express it are backhanded and sneaky.

A knitting and sewing hobbyist, Anne-Louise shows her love for her family and friends through handmade gifts. She regularly makes quilts and knits various items for special occasions and gift-giving holidays, even if people don’t ask for or want them. She sometimes sells her creations on Etsy, but she’s not really consistent with it due to lack of time with two jobs and her beloved dog, Sally. (She made a quilt for Leon to give to him during their date-that-he-didn’t-know-was-a-date which she never gave him, and it still haunts her from the top shelf of her closet to this day.)

Anne-Louise is a whimsigoth queen that loves celestial prints, velvet fabric, and (work appropriate) witchy clothing. Ever since she saw Practical Magic when she was seven, she’s wanted nothing more than to live in that movie, or be a witch herself. Her parents love the aesthetic as well, so her childhood home was basically the house from Sabrina The Teenage Witch but if the aunts were wives instead lmao. She’s also Kate Bush’s Number 1 Fan, having fallen in love with her when she was gifted a copy of Hounds of Love on CD for Christmas in 2002. Though she loves Stevie Nicks and Tori Amos almost as much.

Due to her severe anxiety and living in a house obsessed with true crime, Anne-Louise is an adult virgin. It’s her biggest secret and most painful source of shame. She developed a fear of intimacy and men in general as a teen, after hearing plenty of horror stories of the terrible things that can happen to women on various true crime shows. Her mothers didn’t help in this regard, always warning her of the dangers of the real world. She’s gotten close a few times throughout the years to losing her virginity, but she’s always chickened out at the last second. She’s built it up so much in her head that she fears the real experience will never match up to what she’s imagined. Since she feels such shame about it, only a select few people in her life know the truth; sometimes she’ll lie and say she has had sex if anyone asks, usually by claiming she had a one-night stand with some guy passing through Blue Harbor at O’Shea’s. The older she gets, though, the less she cares about it not happening for her yet.

Because of her fear of intimacy, she tends to gain crushes easily and build them up in head, only to have said person never live up to the pedestal she put them on. Anne-Louise’s a bit of a romantic, despite only having a handful of boyfriends in her time—usually they end up dumping her after they get tired of her seizing up any time they get even close to having sex together. She’s still waiting for that one Romantic Comedy Love that’s sure to come her way (despite the fact that she’s too afraid to actually try and really put herself out there).

CONNECTIONS,

specific connections,

HER MOMS / Hilda Oosterhuis and Pauline Thornton-Oosterhuis, her mothers are Anne-Louise's best friends. They are her biggest supporters in her life, but their overprotective parenting and constantly sheltering has left her with some anxities she can't seem to fully overcome. / wc here!

HER ADOPTIVE OR MATERNAL HALF-SIBLING / Hilda and Pauline had a child before Anne-Louise, either by adopting them or using a donor like they had with Annie (it's up to you!). Like with Anne-Louise, they were fully enmeshed with their parents, but it became clear that she was the golden child pretty early on. Still, they're all very close to each other. / wc here!

HER PATERNAL HALF-SIBLING(S) (0/3) / Hilda and Pauline used an anonymous donor (with Hilda carrying her), so Anne-Louise knows nothing about her biological father or if she has any biological siblings. Recently, she's joined a Donor Kid facebook group that's convinced her to get a DNA test behind her mothers' backs. / wc here!

HER BIOLOGICAL FATHER / Since her moms used an anonymous donor for her, Anne-Louise knows nearly nothing about the man that supplied 50% of her DNA. She's always wondered about him, only knowing that he's white, was in his early to mid-twenties at the time of donation, and he lived in Chicago. Having recently ordered a DNA test, she's hoping to find her biological father; even if they don't develop a relationship, she'd still like to know his name and what he looks like. / wc here!

HER ROOMMATE (1/1) / The person she lives with currently, they share an apartment in Weaver Ridge that's within walking distance to O'Shea's Irish Pub. They're likely good friends, but we can plot some coldness between them if that's what we feel like doing! Anne-Louise currently has a Bernese Mountain Dog named Sally, but they could own the dog together. / @micahweissberg

general connections,

FRIENDS / Anne-Louise is a generally affable lady, so she's known to make friends wherever she goes (she forces herself to be sociable in order to get over her anxiety, to varying degrees of success). Once she knows you, she can talk for hours about anything, and she's very generous with her time and with homemade gifts. Basically, as long as you're cool, she's cool. / @dahliayoung, @lewysstone

BEST FRIEND (0/1, 28+) / This person is her bestest bestest bestest friend of all time... besides her moms, of course. They spend a lot of time together, and they're constantly in contact via text messaging or FaceTime. She'll support them through anything, and they're one of the few people in the world she's trusted with her secret about her virginity. This muse could try to help her lose it, or maybe reassure her she's worth more than whether she has sex or not. Perhaps both. This connection could also be merged with the Roommate role!

ENEMIES / Anne-Louise doesn't have many, at least not that she didn't develop in middle school, but there are some people in Blue Harbor that she cannot stand. With most people she dislikes, she's somewhat adept at hiding it, but a select few in town set her off for some reason or another. We can plot why she doesn't like them, or if it's mutual! / @leonwozniak

CO-WORKERS / Calling all Blue Harbor Elementary School teachers! Or just faculty of the Blue Harbor School District in general. Anne-Louise is generally easy to get along with, but maybe there's tension for some reason? Perhaps they don't like her approach to teaching, or a misunderstanding? Or maybe they're good buds that eat lunch together and hang out outside of work. Anne-Louise also works part-time at O'Shea's and has since she was 20, so if your muse works there or has worked there in the past, they definitely know her in some capacity. / @damianesco (school), @leonwozniak (bar), @clementinebriar (bar)

HER STUDENTS' PARENTS / Got a kid in elementary school? Then it's likely their art teacher is Anne-Louise. She's a very empathetic teacher, and she likes to share her passion for art with her students. However, there's always going to be some parent that has to make a fuss, so perhaps they're not impressed by her teaching or they think art is a useless subject. Most of the kids love Annie, though.

REGULARS AT O'SHEA'S / Again, she's worked at O'Shea's for fifteen years, so if your muse comes into the bar with any regularity, they know Annie. Now working in a part-time capacity since becoming a teacher, she mostly works on a random weeknight or on the weekends/holidays, but she switches to full time during the summers and winter break every year. Maybe your muse doesn't like her, maybe she's their favorite bartender, etc. / @mohanmax, @lewysstone

EX-BOYFRIENDS (0/3, m/nb, 33+) / Though Anne-Louise is basically deathly afraid of intimacy, she has tried on more than one occasion to put herself out there and start a romantic relationship. Usually these relationships don't last more than a few weeks, as she's too scared to be vulnerable and tell them the truth over her virginity, or for another reason we can make up. I'm envisioning her having a high school boyfriend, a college one, and then one in the last few years, so evenly spread throughout time. Each one was doomed to fail, however. :(

HIGH SCHOOL BEST FRIEND (1/1, f/nb, 34-37) / This person is different from her current best friend, because they had a falling out with Anne-Louise at some point after high school graduation. Typical of high school girls, these two were basically attached at the hip, and there were rumors of them being in love with each other all around school. They always denied them, but they were indeed half-in love with each other and were lowkey very possessive of each other. Likely, their falling out happened because they were way too enmeshed with each other and things just blew up between them for some reason or another. Either they've recently reconnected, or they're still cold to each other. / @mayanoelle

CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS (0/2, 33-37) / These muses were either separately friends with Anne-Louise, or they were the three musketeers throughout their childhoods. They might have all lived in Laurel Village together, or were in the same class at BHES. Over time, however, they grew apart from Anne-Louise (we can make up a reason why) and after a few years, they became just faces in the hallway to each other. They can be friendly or recently reconnect, or there could be a lot of awkwardness between them. Up to us!

FORMER BULLIES / Anne-Louise was heavily bullied in middle school and the first few years of high school. She was quickly identified as an easy target because of her shy nature and having two moms, so a few kids in her class made life hell for her. Anne-Louise begged her parents to let her be homeschooled, but they refused and she was forced to stay in classes with kids that hated her. Maybe your muse regrets being mean to her back then, or they think they did nothing wrong? Or maybe they were friends with her biggest bullies, but had no problem with her personally; they just didn't do anything to stop her main bullies. This is a sensitive topic so we can plot this out heavily together!

ROMANTIC INTERESTS (28+) / Just because she's afraid of physical intimacy doesn't mean that Anne-Louise doesn't get crushes! In fact, she tends to fall in love easily with people, build up a whole fantasy of them in her head, then get her heart broken when they don't live up to her expectations. There are many avenues to go with this one, so let's plot! / @mohanmax (crush, flirty)

(EVENTUAL) SEXUAL INTERESTS (28+) / Again, just because she's afraid of physical intimacy doesn't mean she doesn't feel sexual desire. She's just too hung up on her insecurities and anxieties to act on it. I mean c'mon, she'd have no problem pulling hook ups if she wanted to. I imagine at some point in play Anne-Louise will open up sexually with someone, either losing her virginity or fooling around, but it will take a lot of trust and time for that to happen. We'll plot it all out together my loves!!

and anything else we can think of! you know my discord y'all <3

[grinningdevils]

Hudson has lost count of how many different faces he's seen approaching him, expectant looks etched into their features from across the marbled countertop of the bar. Truthfully he hasn't been counting them at all, but for a place that he has previously presumed is just like any other run-of-the-mill sleep harbor town, it sure does have a lot of fucking residents. Still not enough though somehow, to hide from his ex who up until five minutes ago, he had no idea even lived here.

Itching to give his hands something to do to pass the time, Hudson fetches a teatowel and gets to polishing the growing racks of clean glasses behind him. He gets through two whole glasses before his presence is once again requested. It takes a surprising amount of strength not to sigh at the order, and Hudson chooses to glance behind him in the hopes that the blender he knows will be right behind him has suddenly been stolen from under his nose. But sure enough his eyes find it, and for a moment he swears he can hear it mocking him - or maybe that's a residual effect from the joint he smoked earlier.

"Uh, yeah I guess I can do that," Hudson replies, rubbing the back of his neck to signify his reluctance, if only to himself. Despite the unwillingness, he can't help but snicker at the rest of the blonde's request. "Not a fan of alcohol or somethin'?" He questions, fishing out a recipe card from underneath the counter. Holy shit, a piña colada has how many ingredients? "Hate to break it to you blondie, but this mgiht not be the event for you if that's the case."

@annelouiseoosterhuis

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

despite being a fan of charity in general and bright sparks in particular, the luncheon was so not anne-louise’s scene. she never felt comfortable in large crowds, and being stuffed in a room full of people that either barely noticed her or remembered her as the awkward girl with two moms from grade school was the subject of many of her nightmares since childhood. these town events were never her favorite, but her mothers had basically forced her hand into going and at the end of the day, anne-louise supported the cause. and (usually) these events never ended up as bad as she feared them to be. having a drink in hand typically helped. so, she found herself at the bar, begging for the attention of a bored bartender.

a bored bartender she didn’t recognize. anne-louise, a natural wallflower, wouldn’t say that she knew everyone in blue harbor, but as a lifelong local, she could at least put a name to any face she came across. this man was completely unknown to her. she was taken aback a little by that fact. even when she was interacting with someone she hated, there was a bit of comfort in the familiarity of having known them for years. decades, sometimes. she tried not to let social anxiety overtake her. his question made her blush, but what didn’t? “not really, no.” anne-louise shyly laughed, running her hand over her hair. “it’s funny because i’m actually a bartender myself, but i still haven’t really found a signature drink.” anything fruity that didn’t taste much like alcohol was all that she needed, but there was never a cocktail that really felt like her favorite. besides, she rarely drank enough to find out, and she had no desire to test drinks out while working her own bartenading job. 

anne-louise nodded in agreement. “yeah, it’s a town full of lushes.” she said with a slight giggle, then felt bad for passing judgment on her neighbors. “i just mean i’m the odd one out here.” just another way she felt ostracized from her peers, an outsider forever looking in. she cringed a little. she had never met this guy before, so maybe she could try to seem a tad bit cooler than she actually was. “not that i’m like… straight-edge or anything, i have no problem with drinking or people who do drink. it’s not, like, a moral failing in my eyes. how else would i make money if people didn’t drink, y’know?” okay, now she was rambling. she took a deep breath. “hi, by the way, i’m anne-louise. i don’t think we’ve met before.”

@delicatedevils

[hvneymelons]

She had found the cutest shirt, but Dee was far too modest to wear something of that magnitude outside so she regretfully placed it back onto the rack and glanced up. “Thanks for inviting me. I don’t need too much incentive to go shopping.” she said with a laugh, moving on to a rack of dresses. Dilara didn’t make it a habit to go thrifting, finding any and every excuse to leave Blue Harbor all together in order to find new clothing she didn’t spot on every woman walking around town, but every once in a while didn’t hurt. Her arm was littered with cute tops for lounging around. “Don’t even stress it, we’ve got more than enough time to find something, trust!” she moved over towards the dresses to try and find something there. Dee would have loved to attend the luncheon, but unfortunately duty called and while there was another surgeon available in her stead, after having worked on the child the last few months she wanted to follow through. She also didn't want to run into Leon and a date. The thought was more than painful on its own. Hearing the tone in her words, Dilara pressed her lips to keep herself from smiling, “Doesn't sound like you actually want to go." she said, "Do you have an idea of what you’d like to wear? Dress, skirt, pants? I think a dress would be nice. About knee length since it’s lunch. And not too flowy, a bit more shapely.” Finding something that looked about Annie’s size, Dee pulled it from the rack and held it up to measure. “Turn this way.” She instructed her friend so she could get a better look. “That could be cute. Golden jewelry, maybe a little side purse and some pumps? What do you think?”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

despite growing up in a house full of women, anne-louise always heartily welcomed female companionship with anyone willing to give it to her. grade school might’ve been decades away from her, but the scars she acquired hadn’t all fully healed, so it could be hard for her to make friends as an adult. it helped that dilara was technically a childhood friend, since anne-louise spent a lot of time following after dee and leon like a loyal puppy. maybe friendship wasn’t the best word to use—anne-louise was just a little girl back then, and she hated and adored dee in equal measure. in awe of her beauty and kindness, yet unbelievably jealous just the same. it made her feel ashamed twice over: for hating another girl just because she thought she was prettier than herself, and then hating her over leon. he wasn’t worth all the heartache, she came to find out. now as adults, they had carved out a friendship again, a true friendship, completely divorced from the boy—now a man—that once brought them together.

“aw, no problem, girl!” anne-louise could spend hours in a thrift store, digging for treasure, but she loved to shop with a friend. the only downside was that she couldn’t spend hours in there, or else said friend might get bored. “no, no, you’re totally right. i’ve got time.” she sighed ruefully. she never did well under pressure, and the more she looked for an appropriate outfit for the conference, the less suitable outfits she found. that was another good part of shopping with someone else: she got real-time feedback. “um… not really.” anne-louise admitted with a slight whine. she rarely liked attending a social event, but the upcoming illinois art education association conference never failed to make her nervous the entire week leading up to it. “i’m more, like, obligated to go. i already confirmed i’d be attending, and i go every year.” and by the time she actually got there, she (usually) ended up having a good time. that didn’t matter to her nerves, though. “a dress, yeah.” she avoided jeans and leggings as much as possible, but neither item would’ve been appropriate for the event anyway. at dilara’s prompting, she turned around and stood still so dee could hold up the dress. looking down at the garment, anne-louise could agree it was cute but it was much more… revealing than she was used to. her eyes widened a little. “do you think i’d actually be able to pull this off? i won’t look like some kid playing dress up?” she asked.

[eclvpses]

If Leo could declare they were knowledgeable in any category, he would be able to boast over his emotional intelligence. Though he tended to discredit his own feelings, snubbing his nose at them and waving them off without so much as a second glance, he could read others well. Most of the time - there were categories he would always be clueless in, merely because societal norms when it came to relationships still boggled his mind. But he could pick up on the little things, and a small grin appeared on his face as he watched Anne-Louise go through every emotion in the ‘surprised’ tier before finally settling on embarrassment. Which Leo didn’t really understand - embarrassment confounded him, and she had nothing to fuss over. Never when it came to him. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still endeared all the same, though, still leaning in close into her space, but properly taking in her features this time. They were pleasing, to say the least.

“You’re pretty. Real pretty.” He pressed, something as simplistic as pretty feeling improper, but it was his usual go to. Despite what someone might perceive about Leo, descriptors like beautiful and sexy always made him want to roll his eyes. They felt like if a word could be a try hard - the compliment was always real when he said pretty. It felt like the most truthful word that didn’t need to be dressed up. It just was. And she was pretty. Realising he’d sounded a bit surprised, like he’d originally expected an ogre as he came closer, Leo let out a sudden snort of laughter, stumbling to explain himself. “I sounded like an asshole. I just meant - when you blushed, it was kinda adorable. Don’t kick my ass, you look like you’d kick my ass if I said the wrong thing. It’s meant to be a compliment, I swear.”

It didn’t shock him that she didn’t smoke, but he was pleasantly surprised when she took up his offer to join him. He half expected to be shooed off by now, like a mosquito that wouldn’t stop droning in your ear, but if she was going to continue entertaining him, Leo wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Course I want you to join me.” He said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Eagerly waiting for her to come around the bar top, opening the door and everything as they stepped outside - though he had the temperament of the Tasmanian Devil, Leo still thought himself a gentleman. Occasionally. “Don’t kill me,” Because all the best sentences started that way, “but… Annie? Anna? I know I’ve heard it before - wait, don’t tell me! It’s Annie, final answer.” In his excitement, Leo’s accent drawled out, thick as molasses. “Leo,” he introduced next, shoving his lighter into his pocket after igniting a cigarette, and holding his hand out for her to shake. “Enchante.”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

you’re pretty. real pretty.

anne-louise short-circuited. first, she froze, mouth hanging open slightly. then, the blush already on her face from her previous embarrassment deepened to a hot, scarlet red, and crawled up from her neck to the apples of her cheeks and up to the tips of her ears. a hesitant smile flickered over her face, almost as if she was glitching in real time. she never took compliments well. she’d hate to sound conceited, as she never thought of herself as pretty despite fitting into the conventional beauty standard, but she was used to drunk customers commenting on her appearance in a sometimes sweet, but usually crude way, or if they were trying to butter her up after she cut them off for the night. a part of her, deep within, was still that awkward girl in middle school, despite being halfway through her thirties. little annie-lou had suffered through her classmates calling her weird and ugly. she suffered through boys pretending to ask her out, just to laugh in her face when she said yes, or mean girls in school handing her a note that they said came from her crush of the month, but in reality said crush had no idea what she was talking about after approaching them and often got offended that the weird girl with two moms would dare to think they’d like her.

so, yes, she had some scars that had yet to fully heal. that left her sputtering when someone complimented her in any other capacity beyond ‘wow, your style is so cool and witchy!’ or ‘i love that stitchwork, can you show me how you did that?’ when it came to compliments on her looks, she had no idea what to say or do. but then they laughed! briefly, anne-louise bristled again. flashbacks of middle school trauma poisoned her mind and if he hadn’t explained himself just a second later, she might have burst into tears. “now i know you’re lying, because not a soul in this world thinks i could kick anyone’s ass.” anne-louise settled on a joke, though she wasn’t really kidding. “but, uh… thank you.” she finally accepted the compliment, deciding to trust that it wasn’t a prank. she couldn’t let the comment go without thanking them, at the very least. she was too polite for that.

“o–okay.” confused on why he wanted her to join him outside, anne-louise followed them anyway. it was a slow night, and she’d be able to see anyone coming in off the street through the window. on the weekdays, no one really came to o’shea’s unless they were regulars, so they’d know just to wait for her to come back in to take their drink. she hoped, at least. if someone came in and stole a bottle of liquor from behind the bar, she doubted she’d be able to escape a lecture from leon by invoking his uncle’s name. david, the former owner, would be pissed at her, too, if that happened; usually, he'd let her get away with murder, but not theft. that was the problem with anxiety—she ran through several different horrible scenarios in between the time it took to walk around the bar and head outside. she wrapped a strand of hair around her left index finger, using the other hand to daintily shake his own once they made it outside the building. “almost! it’s anne-louise.” an incredibly long name, it came from her moms being unable to pick between their respective choices for their daughter. in the end, they combined the two and cursed her with having to constantly spell it. “most people call me annie-lou, though.” or sometimes just annie, but never just lou. “nice to meet you, leo.” she tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of burning nicotine.

[leonwozniak]

leon made it a point to never dwell on the pub’s various security code violations. he was certain there were plenty; he’d been in the restaurant business long enough to know which corners could be cut and which couldn’t. and it wasn’t a jab at his uncle, but leon was pretty sure david had never paused to breathe, let alone review code violations for his building. the fact that he owned the place should have been incentive enough, but here they were, murderous doorknobs stabbing him everytime he went to fast or held a box.

so leon just made sure to ignore it.

“gun to my temple, and you’d still find a way to make it my fault, i fucking swear,” leon sighed as he untangled himself, wincing at the sight of his torn shirt and the angry, red scrape the metal knob had made the minute he ran into it. at least the shirt was an o’shea’s one—he owned several of those. he never understood why his uncle had printed hundreds of them, maybe as some half-hearted marketing attempt or to create a uniform for the staff, which everyone mostly ignored. still, seeing the tear made him grimace for a split second before he shifted his attention back to anne-louise and took the box from her.

“thanks for holding that for me,” he said, noting how her arm trembled under the weight of the monthly soda shipment. he usually steered clear of her shifts; she was more than capable of handling things herself, and he preferred the peace of mind when he stopped by. but today, he’d miscalculated and scheduled the delivery during her shift. he hadn’t meant for her to deal with it, but he also didn’t want to be told off at his own pub. without the obstacle of the door, moving the box was simple enough. he just needed her to step aside first. “i’ll wrap this up and get out of your way, yeah? i think general hospital is starting soon—wouldn’t want you to miss it.”

that had happened once: him catching anne-louise watching the show in the middle of the afternoon. it could’ve become a lighthearted inside joke, but instead, it spiraled into a long argument that anne-louise won handily—because leon had just decided to let her, cowardly escaping to the office for some well-deserved silence.

crouching behind the bar, not even waiting for her retort that would soon coming he was sure, he opened the fridge, groaning as his knees cracked and his side flared. god, he was getting old.

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

for a woman that hated when her mothers treated her like a child, anne-louise could certainly act like one. maybe that was the exact reason she could. that, or the fact that she spent most of her days around children at the local elementary school. dealing with drunken regulars at night was relatively the same. all of it compounded into anne-louise knowing how to act like a real brat. most of the time, she reserved that specifically for leon—everyone else got the nice girl people-pleaser. his own fault, really, anne-louise thought. 

“it probably would be.” she responded under her breath, still snarky despite the strain she felt in her biceps. it was almost uncontrollable around him. anyone else, anne-louise was rather adept at hiding her irritation behind a sugary smile and even sweeter voice. when it came to leon, no matter how benign a statement he made, she would surely find a way to be annoyed by him. even now, when his gratitude was genuine, she had the impulse to act the exact opposite way than expected. she was thankful now that the heavy box was out of her arms, but she still wanted to act like a little brat. instead of acknowledging his thanks, she simply rubbed at her aching muscles and watched as he moved around her towards the bar.

his comment about general hospital nearly inspired a classic annie-lou freak out, instantly taking offense at him bringing it up when they fought about it weeks earlier. seriously, what did it matter if she did watch the show on her shift? the regulars that were around at three in the afternoon didn’t care about what was on the tv, and the ones that did actually got a little bit into it. the soap opera had been part of her life longer than she could remember, as her middle name of felicia came from one of the most prolific characters on the show, and it was one of the many things she bonded over with her moms for the past thirty-something years. so, not only was it that leon bringing it up would be enough to make her mad, it was that she felt quite protective over the show as well. 

“well, if you must know, they just killed off sam after she donated her liver to lulu who has been in a coma for years and was previously married to sam's boyfriend dante; michael slept with sasha after drew told him that he kissed his wife willow after cody punched him out because tracy and ned tried to blackmail him; and cody and sasha just found out they’re first cousins. and holly’s sasha’s mom, too, which is a total retcon but i don't hate it.” anne-louise could acknowledge that she sounded like a rambling mad woman, but that was only half of what was even happening on the show lately. she followed leon behind the bar and leaned against the counter. “david never cared if i watched it.” there was nothing anne-louise loved more than invoking uncle david’s name! it was how she won most of their arguments: david let me do it, and i’ve been here for years. unlike you, city boy. though leon was six years older and actually related to the former owner, she had seniority, and david was notoriously a sucker when it came to his bar staff. 

so, she could pretty much do what she wanted, including making her own schedule. it was leon that wasn’t supposed to be there. “what’re you doing here, anyway? don’t you, like, play bingo on thursdays or something.” she didn’t actually know, nor really care, what he did when he wasn’t at the bar, it was mostly just to make a crack about his age. as if she wasn’t thirty-five and rapidly feeling older by the day.

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

* 📱 → Dahlia 🌻

monday, october 28th, 2024 at 6:34 pm / @dahliayoung

ANNE-LOUISE: Hi Lia!! ANNE-LOUISE: Did you still want some bartending lessons from little ol me?? Haha

[graham-oswald]

"what does your boss usually play, annie? i can't imagine it's anything good if you have to defend the jukebox so ardently," he lightly ribbed on her, all in good humor. "don't sweat it. i'll wait until the song is over to make the change. lord knows, i don't have anywhere else to be," graham raised his glass in a cheers towards anne-louise. "there's still enough of my drink to last two or three more songs." it was likely he'd indulge in another round anyways. that left a good six songs before he was out of o'shea's. there'd be plenty of time to get reacquainted with the so-called "artistry" of carly rae jepsen, and to get in a temptations song or two.

after the quiet apologies, graham was shocked by anne-louise's change in demeanor. "aye, aye, captain," he saluted, grabbing his phone off the bar and doing as she had instructed. "to be honest, i'm lost on any music that came out post-2015, really. once i stopped being able to pick up on lyrics, i gave up on trying to be 'with the times.'" he emphasized the last few words with air-quotes. "carly rae jepsen just made that cut, i guess."

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

“stupid, whiny old man rock.” anne-louise answered quickly with a firm nod. her boss was only six years her senior, however, so there was barely a generational gap between them. she just disarranged anything that leon liked, out of revenge for a slight committed years ago. there had actually been a time in her youth that she bought a collective soul cd simply because leon liked that band, so she wanted to like the things that he liked in hopes he’d just somehow notice her listening to it and suddenly realize just how cool and interesting she was. it never worked, and she learned there was no point in pretending to like a band just for a man’s benefit. if he couldn’t understand her love for kate bush and fleetwood mac, then he wasn’t the man for her.

at least graham was open to miss carly rae! that was a lot more than she could ask for from the rest of o’shea’s regulars, who often bemoaned her control over the jukebox. “check out i didn’t just came here to dance first, that one’s my favorite.” and the whole album in general, but she didn’t want to overwhelm him. his comment on music in the last decade had her nodding in understanding. “no, i totally get it. beyond carly, there’s really only a few artists i listen to that aren’t, like, in their eighties by now.” pardon the pretentiousness, but in her mind, music was at its best in the seventies with artists like linda ronstadt and juice newton. “what’s your favorite band, then? the temptations?”

[clementinebriar]

Anne-Louise is an exercise in patience Clementine has discovered, throughout the years, she does not have. They get along fine, most days — have to, if they want the bar to keep standing — and if push came to shove, Clem thinks she would beat someone up for her, but most of the time Clementine can’t stand her brand of nice girl. Always felt so fake, so performative — probably a lot of the reason why Clementine tends to prod at Anne-Louise as much as she does. She finds the other woman is her most authentic self when she’s incensed. Clem’s just doing her a favor, really.

Shooting her a look at the question about Paul, she finishes setting up her washer for the appropriate (or near-enough, anyway) cycle, then leans against it with her arms crossed. “No,” she replies. “That’s why I was warning him that the bra wasn’t coming off. Use those fantastic deduction skills of yours, Annie-Lou.” She watches as the other woman starts on her own load, wondering if it’s worth having a conversation at all. It’s not like work is an appropriate topic of discussion — they spend far too much time at work talking about work already. She’s about to choose peace and scroll mindlessly through her phone instead of attempting any sort of small talk when Anne-Louise offers her some unsolicited advice about her bras, and Clementine can’t help but level her with an unimpressed look.

“I didn’t ask,” she points out. “I know what I’m supposed to be doing with my bras,” she adds, then gestures at the entirety of herself. “Does it look like I’m the kind of person who gives a shit?” It’s like sharing a room with a fucking nun or something. Worse — a mother, one that hadn’t been around to teach Clem any of these things. Things she did know, but had to learn herself, through furious Googling after she’d destroyed many of her bras throughout the years. Today’s just not one of the days she cares. The sooner she gets out of this place, the better. “Why are you doing your laundry here, anyway? Don’t you have, like, a family you can bother for this?”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

anne-louise didn’t know why she tried. clementine had never liked her, and truthfully anne-louise wasn’t a big fan of her coworker either, but it was pathologically impossible for her not to at least attempt civility. at least when david was still running the bar, he was able to make them tolerate each other’s presence. david was gone now, though, and leon couldn’t tell anne-louise the time of day without her snapping back. she let the comment about her deduction skills pass without comment, though there was a plain frown on her face. used to the acidity of other women after being bullied all throughout grade school, she could bite her tongue until it was bleeding. sometimes, though, the taste of blood was too much to bear and her mouth opened before she could stop herself.

“jesus, i was just trying to be nice to you.” whatever, she hoped every single bra she ever had for the rest of her life shanked her in the titty then. clementine apparently had no sense of sisterhood! anne-louise turned away to produce a bottle of unscented laundry detergent out of her bag—fabric softener just ruined fabrics, in her expert opinion—and fill up a cap full to throw into the washer. it was hard to keep her composure at clementine’s next comment, biting into the membrane of her cheeks to quell her rising temper. “my apartment building doesn’t have an in-unit washer, if you must know, and i’m not gonna shlep all my stuff to laurel village just to wash some clothes.” her mothers would have accepted her, probably even offered to do her laundry for her, but anne-louise was an adult. she could do her own chores.

[nightshfts]

closed starter for @annelouiseoosterhuis, o'shea's, 4pm.

‎ he'd been to o'shea's a few times before, but never enough to be considered a regular. he hasn't yet established the kind of rapport with the bartenders to be greeted with a sincere smile just for showing up, his go-to drink bumped up on the queue of stuff to do while they ask him about that thing he said he was going to do last time just to show that they listen, that they remember.

none of that. though it is kind of a little bit, with leon. he's only starting to get to know the dude a little better now, hanging out beyond the brick confines of this bar, but he isn't stationed out front today. not this early.

instead, he gets the blonde woman whom he'd watched walk through the doors in a hurry earlier, arguing with somebody on the phone. something about a lease, an apartment, coming over tomorrow, halloween decorations...

a conversation micah hadn't meant to eavesdrop on but now, with her standing behind the bar, wiping down glasses as the lull of the afternoon settles, he can't help but bring it up.

or he can try to.

"did- um, di you do the decorations?" he says, casually trying to reel in her attention amidst his prior silence. "or is this a leon thing?"

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, anne-louise wasn’t arguing with the leasing agent over the phone. she was arguing with her mother. after her contracted hours were over at the school, it took just a few short minutes to drive home and take her dog belladonna out for a walk. from there, she’d bring her dog back to her apartment and then walk a few blocks over to o’shea’s for an evening shift. if that didn’t make her frazzled enough, her mother harping on her about the empty room in her apartment hadn’t helped. of course, annie-lou knew it came from a place of love, and she should be thankful that her parents still cared so much about her, but god damn, sometimes she just wanted to make her own decisions! including who would be her new roommate since katie moved in with her boyfriend.

anne-louise tried not to groan into the phone: “mom, i am perfectly capable of finding a roommate on my own. i know dr. patton’s daughter is very nice, but she’s, like, twenty-four. i want someone a little more my age.” that was partially true. the other part was that her mother’s coworker’s daughter was a huge asshole, but anne-louise was too polite to say it. hilda would admonish her for cursing, anyway. “i will find someone soon, okay? rent’s not due for another week or so. no, i don’t need you to come over tomorrow to help decorate for halloween and screen potential applican—yes, i know posting on craigslist is super sketchy but what am i supposed to do, run an ad in the blue news? mom, i just got to work and i need to clock in. okaybyeiloveyou.” before hilda could protest any further, she hung up the call and hurried into work.

like clockwork, as if she could do it with her eyes closed, she placed her belongings in the back and got right to work behind the bar. cleaning the glasses was tedious sidework, but the methodical action calmed her heart rate a little and she almost didn’t notice the man sitting at the bar. startled slightly, annie-lou’s head snapped to attention. her brows instantly creased incredulously. “leon wozniak? have any sense of interior decoration? please.” normally adverse to talk about someone behind their back, particularly in front of a virtual stranger, all bets were off when it came to her boss. “the previous owner let me decorate however i wanted for holidays, so i’ll be damned if leon tells me not to.” she had so little control in her life, she had to get it where she could. “why? do you think it’s too much?”

[murphbloomarchive]

WHO: open! ( @bluestarters )

option a WHERE: crave & co.

Murph's sweet tooth was out with a vengeance today, the sugary goodness wafting through the doors of Crave & Co luring him inside. A wall of pastries and croissants, danishes and donuts greeted him, and he found himself immediately succumbing to decision paralysis. Asking for one of everything was just sad because he knew exactly what he'd do. He'd lug the boxes home, plop down on his couch, put on Schitt's Creek for the thirty-seventh time, and eat every single one.

No, he couldn't do that. Being out in sweats was sad enough.

So, instead, he turned back to the person who had formed a line behind him, unwittingly putting pressure on him to make a decision and make it fast. "Hey, hi, sorry to bother you, but I'm sort of feeling like this is probably how parents feel when they're asked to pick a favorite child, and I'm genuinely afraid that my lack of self control is going to make me walk out of here with one of everything. So, can I just ask what you'd recommend?"

option b WHERE: outside of o'sheas

God, putting himself out there and meeting new people was hard. He'd sat with a beer for a while trying to work up the nerve to just toss himself into the deep end. But then he started thinking about the whole moving on aspect of this moving on phase of his life, and he found himself outside, a cool fall breeze teasing his hair as he slid a cigarette between his lips.

He'd never been much of a smoker— socially, occasionally, and usually only after he'd been drinking— but he had a lot of space to fill in his day to day now and he was still figuring out what things fit. So for the time being, he was going to indulge in this nasty habit because it made him feel better for a couple of minutes.

He took a drag as he turned the corner, exhaling a cloud of smoke almost directly in the face of someone he hadn't seen until it was too late. Immediately horrified, Murph yanked the cigarette out of his mouth and stomped it out. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? I can light it back up for you if you wanna get even or something."

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

anne-louise thought of o’shea’s as a venus fly trap that she was unable to escape from. for fifteen years, she had worked in the bar, for reasons that kept changing. at first, to help ease her severe social anxiety. then it became a supplement to her meager teacher’s salary. now, it just seemed to be that she didn’t know where else she’d go. like that boiling frog—the heat of the water kept rising until it was too late for anne-louise to save herself. 

well, that was a bit dramatic, but not altogether untrue. better the devil she knew than to try again somewhere else. she could probably navigate o’shea’s with her eyes closed, and sometimes when it was really slow, she would test herself by holding her hands out and screwing her eyes tight before she tried to make a vodka cran without seeing. that was something she liked about the bar: things rarely changed. the only thing new about o’shea’s in recent memory was a change in ownership (though still in the family). that, and there were sometimes new customers that blew in from all over the place. 

that was the beauty and tragedy of small towns: everyone knew each other, and newcomers were incredibly obvious.

anne-louise had noticed the man mostly because, well, it was her job to pay attention to customers, and because she hadn’t seen him before. that wasn’t too out of the ordinary, since she only worked at the bar part-time since she graduated college years ago, and it was entirely possible that he just came in on the days that she wasn’t working. however, new people in blue harbor were the subject of rumors and had an automatic air of mystery. whenever someone moved to town, the locals couldn’t help but stir with excitement… until the newcomer became a local just like them, and the air of mystery was replaced with the banality of knowing. for that brief window, though…

as soon as she noticed the customer, he disappeared. anne-louise was momentarily curious, but her attention was stolen away by someone else’s order. she didn’t remember him again until she was heading outside towards the dumpster out back, hands full of heavy trash bags, and then there was suddenly pain in her eyes. “ah, fu—frick!” anne-louise stopped the curse before it could fully form, a habit developed from working around elementary school children for over a decade. blinking away the sting, sclera turning red, she annoyingly had to use the back of her wrist to wipe away the tears, though the surprise made her drop the bags on her feet anyway. “huh?” anne-louise uttered, irritation giving way to the incessant urge to be nice. “no, no, you’re okay.” she said, though her expression and tone gave her away. “i’m fine.” the idea of blowing smoke in his face was temporarily tempting, but she couldn’t go through with it. “will you just help me put these in the dumpster?” anne-louise leaned down to grab the lighter trash bag, kicking off any dirt from her non-slip work shoes.

[gnaerlys]

for: @bluestarters

location: waterway diner.

“You know, I hate to be the barer of bad news ..” the waitress begins, smile on her lips as she gestures to the menu rested on the table, “But the menu ain't gonna change no matter how long you stare at it. ”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

anne-louise jumped a little in her seat at the sound of the server’s voice, too focused on rereading the same five menu items over and over again while her mind was a thousand miles away. “oh!” anne-louise laughed, smiling sheepishly. “no, no, i know. i don’t think anything’s been added to the menu since i was, like… fifteen, probably. i keep hoping i’ll come in and there will be some different vegetarian options—not that i am one, i’d just like to be one someday.” anne-louise realized she was rambling, so she forced herself to quiet down, smile fading. “i’ll take a caesar salad, please, and a dr. pepper.”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

availability / @delicatedevils setting / lakeside banquet hall, cantwell country club. timeline / sunday, september 29th, 2024 at 2:30 pm.

would it shock anyone to know that anne-louise didn’t drink often? she wasn’t exactly someone that got invited to parties growing up, and she had been taught to fear alcohol and what can happen to drunk girls by her mothers and various lifetime movies. so, her tolerance was… zero. maybe a little alcohol would help soothe her nerves, but that sort of thinking felt like a slippery slope that would surely lead to alcoholism within weeks, maybe days! and then who knows what after that! perhaps what she feared most was liking it too much, to feel like life was better with a drink in hand than without it. that meant regulating her alcoholic intake to special occasions and dinners out with friends. despite working in a bar for fifteen years, she rarely touched the stuff herself, unless it was expected of her in a social setting. like a charity luncheon, for example. anne-louise approached the bar and gave the blond bartender a shy smile. “hi, could i please have a piña colada?” she leaned over to take a quick look behind the bar, “or… if you don’t have a blender back there, can i please just something really fruity that doesn’t taste like alcohol and comes with as many maraschino cherries you can spare?”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

availability / @themadisynhuang setting / hallway of the cantwell country club. timeline / sunday, september 29th, 2024 at 1:45 pm.

anne-louise hadn’t wanted to stay at the luncheon for so long. she just wanted to toil around for an hour, donate as much money as she could (which wasn’t much), and make an appearance as demanded by her mom. just long enough to show face, mingle with a few blue harbor citizens she already knew from either of her jobs instead of meeting someone new, and then spend the rest of her sunday relaxing at home with her dog. getting caught in madisyn’s crosshairs was not part of the plan. it was too late, anne-louise was in the sight of a lion. she tried not to grimace when she spotted madisyn coming from the other way as she walked down the hall towards the bathrooms. “heeeey, girl.” anne-louise greeted madisyn, smiling hesitantly. “how’s my favorite customer?” she asked, lying about that last part. (that title belonged to max.)

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

availability / @dahliayoung setting / lakeside banquet hall, cantwell country club. timeline / sunday, september 29th, 2024 at 11:45 am.

anne-louise never felt comfortable in public settings. especially not in a public space that seemed to be packed to the rafters with people—some familiar, some complete strangers. every insecurity that ever ran through her brain in the last thirty-five years returned at full force, louder than the band playing inconspicuously in the corner or anyone that attempted to make polite conversation with her. yes, she worked two incredibly social jobs—part-time bartender, full-time art teacher—but o’shea’s and the elementary school were a lot different than this. she knew the children she taught very well, plus they were literal children, and the majority of patrons at o’shea’s were regulars that she had known for years. they were controlled environments that, while they both had their moments of random chaos, she was completely familiar with. a huge town-wide charity benefit? the exact opposite of comfortable for her. she had wanted to stay home so badly, but she had been volunteering off and on at bright sparks for years now, and her mothers wanted her to go. how would it look if the daughter of one of the first out and proud lesbian couples in blue harbor didn’t attend a charity fundraiser for the local lgbtq+ community center?

so, there she was, nursing a watered-down mimosa while she stood off to the side of the room. she had hoped to blend into the wall, but she was mad at herself for having such a hope. why couldn’t she be more social? why couldn’t she put herself out there? any attempts to talk to someone new failed before they could even start, too self-conscious and second-guessing every greeting she could think up so that they died in her throat before she could actually voice them. there were still a few hours to go before she could leave, so anne-louise knew she had to at least talk to someone, or else it would have all been a waste. luckily, the next person she spotted near her was someone she knew very well. anne-louise loudly sighed in relief. “lia!” she practically galloped to her friend. “i’m so happy to see you!”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

ANNE-LOUISE'S OUTFIT—

the weissberg law firm's charity luncheon / sunday, september 29th, 2024.

template.

[clementinebriar]

x. status -> open (capped at 1/4) x. location -> laundromat

Jesus, how long has she gone without doing her laundry? She’s staring at the load in front of her — probably a month? She takes one of the shirts from the pile to give it a sniff — and promptly gags. “Oh, god,” she makes a face, opening the washing machine door. “Fucking hell.” She starts shoving clothes in there, not bothering with separating whites from colors because what is she, the fucking queen of England? She’s barely got any white clothes as it is, anyway. They can afford to get a little washed out. As she’s doing this, she feels a presence approach her, only catching a slight silhouette through her peripheral. “The bra’s not coming off, Paul,” she calls out without looking up. “Find something better to do for once in your sorry life, you fuckin’ perv.”

She turns to meet his gaze, only to find Not Paul standing there, instead. Clem snorts. “Oh,” she shoves some more of her laundry into the washer. “Sorry. Thought you were Peeping Paul.” She promptly unhooks her bra and slips on out of it through her tank top, stuffing it into the washer, too. Hey, if it’s not Paul. “That one’s eating the quarters again,” she points at the washer next to her without looking back at them. “I’d steer clear.”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

if anne-louise let her moms, they would have continued doing her laundry for her after she moved out years ago. they would have cleaned her apartment, cooked her food, fuck, they’d chew her food for her if they could. it was the price of being loved so deeply by her parents, so she tried her hardest not to be annoyed by their overbearingness. she appreciated that, she did. she knew that her moms meant nothing by being so… protective, but there were some instances where she had to assert her independence. (yes, at thirty-five, she still had to assert her independence.) so, she appreciated their fussing, but she was stalwart in her decision to do her own laundry. they had offered up their washer and dryer in their basement, and while it would be easier on anne-louise’s wallet to use theirs for free, she had to put her foot down sometimes. that left her trotting over to the laundromat a few streets away from her apartment in weaver ridge, rolling hamper in tow.

anne-louise hadn’t expected her coworker to have the same plans. the instant she walked into the laundromat, she spotted clementine. she had half a mind to ignore her and continue on to the back row of washers, but it made no sense for her to pretend like she hadn’t seen her when they had worked countless shifts together for the last ten years. besides, she had those ten years of experience to know that ignoring clementine just made her act worse. anne-louise saddled up to a machine a few down from clementine’s and began grabbing her clothes out of her hamper when clementine addressed her—or peeping paul, rather. “do you normally undress in front of peeping paul?” anne-louise asked incredulously, propping open the machine door with her hip. anne-louise had been carrying bear spray—more powerful than pepper spray—on her person since she was twelve years old, so she’d be able to deal with the notorious voyeur if she had to. she just never had to before.

“thanks.” anne-louise responded to her warning quietly, having already picked one that seemed to be working fine. funneling more of her clothes into the washer, she tossed a glance over her shoulder at clementine. “you know you’ll have to line dry your bras if you want them to last.” she gave some unsolicited advice with a short shrug. most of her clothing she either made herself, thrifted, or ordered online from specialty shops—she usually never had enough clothes to justify the electricity it took for a single load to be dried. “or your underwire will pop out and shank you in the ribs.”

[evigh3t]

“you don’t know where i work,” elspeth responded lightly. she was unsure how the mood could be dampened even further amongst mourning loved ones and widows. they balanced the mask back on the rack, continuing to search through the sale rail for anything that wasn’t too big, too small, too long, too green. “i think it could do with any injection of happiness we can get our hands on, although the mask is . . . well, it’s a bit of an unorthodox solution, i’ll give you that.” and she thought that was it, a conversation that was as brief as a candle in a strong breeze. most of her interactions seemed to go that way those days, fleeting chatter that died away as quickly as it had been illuminated. she almost bypassed the stranger’s words entirely, thinking they couldn’t possibly being directed at them. “macavity . . . ” elspeth grinned and spun on her heels. “yes! you’re right! my mom loves musicals. it’s probably because she married a man in tennessee and thought she living in her own version of oklahoma! all those cowboys and big windmills.”

[annelouiseoosterhuis]

“oh? where do you work?” anne-louise asked, unaware that they had turned away from her as she was browsing the racks. the mask would fit in well to her own classroom, and she made a mental note to file away making masks as a fun art project for her students, but she couldn’t imagine another job where a mask would be applicable. it would certainly be a topic of conversation at the bar if she showed up with one. her attention was stolen from the clothing racks when they responded excitedly to her cats reference. “so many people hate that musical! there was a whole dust up a few months ago when the local community theater couldn’t get the rights to it so it led to some weird feud with andrew lloyd webber, i don’t know. i like cats.” anne-louise was a fan of theater—musicals and straight plays—in general, though. “i guess it’s better to be in oklahoma! than in a tennessee williams play?” anne-louise shrugged with a friendly smile, nose scrunching.