ARWEN: ugh, no. i have to go down to the stupid post office and pick it up now!!! i should've just gotten it delivered to the arcade, but i don't want those dumb freaks stealing it either
ARWEN: why does juno use your account???
Spencer can't help the low chuckle that escapes him at Arwen's threat, mostly because he has no doubt that she would have no problem following through. His hands go up, palms out to show his innocence, "Wouldn't blame you."
And then she's freaking out again, panicking in a way that he'd only ever really seen in the mirror, and he doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do. If it was someone else, someone who hadn't been on the other side of his bullying, it might be a little easier. But how was he supposed to calm the situation down when just his presence was making it worse?
"Hey, I know this is scary, I don't like being locked in places either. But it's gonna be okay, alright?" his voice is more gentle than he thought he was capable of as he stands up and approaches her slowly, head leaning down to try and meet her eyes while still keeping a healthy distance, "You're right, it's just a stupid record store. No one shut us in here on purpose, no one's trying to keep us trapped. We just gotta wait it out a little longer, okay? I know for a fact Stella is on shift and she has the bladder of a squirrel, so she'll probably be down here any minute trying to yank the door open. And then someone will come help, yeah?"
Arwen hated how gentle his voice was, a contrast that was world's away from any tone she had ever heard from him before. I don't like being locked in places either - why did he understand, without her even having to say it? Ew. Ugh.
No one shut us in here on purpose - Arwen wanted to scream.
No one's trying to keep us trapped.
Out of spite, she could've ignored him, insisted on her own misery out of spite. That sneaking little twinge in her, though, the unmistakable feeling of weight dropping out of her chest... It told her to give in. A breath flooded into her lungs, steadier than the previous one. Her eyes flickered up toward him; they were red, wet. Crying in front of Spencer Beckett was nearly just as bad of a nightmare.
It's a long moment that she looks at him, silence echoing off the walls around them. Arwen realizes she's nodding a second too late to stop herself.
"Right," Having to admit he was right, just another tally on ways that this day sucked, "Nobody is..." She can't bring herself to finish the sentence. Too vulnerable. Too broken to convince her own brain that this wasn't going to be some three-day-long stay, starving, and miserable, and -
"Why are you being so nice to me?" It wasn't much better, but she figured it would be easier than focusing on the walls that were closing in on her.
ARWEN: earth to fallon
ARWEN: it says your online, are you home yet????
ARWEN: i have a package coming, and it's very important you don't let that stupid UPS man leave with it again!!!!
Arwen has to suppress the urge to kick the door down once again, her chest tightening with each quickened 'ba-bump' that her heart squeezed out. Trapped. She was trapped, they were trapped - together. Together, and miserable, and trapped. God damn it.
"I'm the one who doesn't work here, getting roped into you Bendy's stupid war!" Childish, even as Arwen spat it out, but she couldn't help herself. Panic paired with the close proximity to Spencer Beckett might drive her right to the brink. "I think that gives me some room to -!" She doesn't know how to fill in the blank. Another, "UGH!" rips from her instead.
Hands over her face, breathing obviously fighting to keep steadied; Arwen lets her back slide down the nearest wall until she's sitting against the ground. "I can't believe I'm going to die in the stupid bathroom at Bend Records," She looks up at him, "And with you. This sucks."
Spencer has never been all that good at reading other people's feelings, maybe because he can barely handle his own, but it's obvious even to him that Arwen is getting really worked up. He can't really understand why, though, it wasn't like a guy was gonna jump out and ask them their favorite scary movie or some shit. Though, he guesses he doesn't really need to understand to empathize, so he slides down the wall next to her just as she turns her attention back to him.
"With me? What the fuck did I-" Oh fuck.
He was the guy in the scary mask with a knife in this scenario, except the mask was the douchey popular boy persona he couldn't seem to fully shake and the knife was whatever cruel bullshit had undoubtably spilled out of his or one of his friend's mouths in her direction. Spencer doesn't remember her in particular, but he knows that look. Sometimes he'd enjoyed it back then, as much as he doesn't want to admit it, but mostly it left an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach. The same way it does now.
His shifts away from her and softens his voice, he doesn't want to make anything worse. "I'm not like- gonna hurt you or anything," not that he'd ever put his hands on a girl anyway, even in high school there were lines he wouldn't cross, "I'm sure someone will come find us soon, we're not gonna die in here."
It’s instinct when Arwen pulls her knees in closer toward herself, not flinching but freezing in the face of his actions. What would he do next? Why get too close? Her muscles relaxed when the answer seemed to be nothing —then tensed once again with twin realization that he hadn’t even recognized her until this very moment.
“Seriously, dude?” Arwen didn’t have to say more; the context was written on the tension hanging between them. She couldn’t say it surprised her, that someone she couldn’t erase had forgotten her. It had happened time and time again: foster parents, social workers, family. Why should Spencer be any different?
“If you tried to hurt me,” Arwen snapped, “I would rip your stupid balls off.” It was the most confident she would be for a moment, though, as she chewed over the reassurance. Someone would come find them soon, they surely wouldn’t die in here. The mantra only worked once through before Arwen was back on her feet.
She would die in here. Arwen’s heart would stop beating out of spite, the walls would cave in, a meteor would strike exactly where they were —
Hands are pounding against the door again, her voice hoarse over the sounds of shouting. It’s only a minute of effort, though, before Arwen rests her forehead against the door. Breathe, idiot. Just breathe.
She couldn’t. Her lungs were constricting, her skin was on fire. The urge to curl up on the floor, germs be dammed, pulsed through her, broken only by Spencer. “I hate it here,” Arwen swore, “I hate this stupid record store.”
"Seems like you got it covered," Spencer deadpans, eyes searching around the place for another escape. Of course he'd left his cell in the break room, having it would make things just a little bit too easy on him on what was chalking up to be a pretty bad day! His shift was over, he was headed out the door, he should have just waited to use the restroom until he got home. Then he wouldn't be in this mess, wouldn't have to deal with a random chick yelling at him, or listen to the lecture he was sure to get from his father for being late to dinner. It wasn't even like he could use the bathrooms being fucked as an excuse, that would only add fuel to the fire.
Despite his words he steps around her, tugging at the door unsuccessfully. He even tries to put his foot on the wall for leverage, but all that does is leave a mark that Sloane would undoubtably make him clean up before he got to leave.
"You're not the only one who doesn't have the time," he scoffs, "I'm sure someone will try to get in any minute, everyone's been bitching about there being too many bodies in here, and it's not like there's other bathroom options."
Arwen has to suppress the urge to kick the door down once again, her chest tightening with each quickened 'ba-bump' that her heart squeezed out. Trapped. She was trapped, they were trapped - together. Together, and miserable, and trapped. God damn it.
"I'm the one who doesn't work here, getting roped into you Bendy's stupid war!" Childish, even as Arwen spat it out, but she couldn't help herself. Panic paired with the close proximity to Spencer Beckett might drive her right to the brink. "I think that gives me some room to -!" She doesn't know how to fill in the blank. Another, "UGH!" rips from her instead.
Hands over her face, breathing obviously fighting to keep steadied; Arwen lets her back slide down the nearest wall until she's sitting against the ground. "I can't believe I'm going to die in the stupid bathroom at Bend Records," She looks up at him, "And with you. This sucks."
adjusting to another person in her house has been difficult. technically, juno is her aunt, but there’s only fourteen years between them and juno’s always insisted on shaving a few more off her age so sometimes, she feels more like her sister. all this to say, the equilibrium that they’ve reached in their household took quite a few years. there are still some days where their screaming matches can be heard down the street.
when juno proposed subletting the spare room, fallon was staunchly against the idea. it didn’t seem particularly humane to subject another person to their lifestyle. and she really liked not having to share a bathroom with anyone else. but juno needed the extra cash (fallon suggested working at bend records— juno laughed so hard she nearly choked). so arwen moved in. a third person means a whole other person’s worth of stuff. really, it’s still just juno’s things now spilled out in the common areas since she can’t use the spare room for storage anymore. fallon’s not particularly pleased about it all even now, but she’s promised to play nice.
she’s sitting cross legged on the couch when arwen makes her dramatic entrance. after a moment, she lowers the volume on the tv. “eggroll for your thoughts?” she offers the takeout container to arwen, raising a brow.
Arwen raises an eyebrow right back at Fallon, studying the box of eggrolls with the type of wariness that might usually only seen with a deer deciding to trust a hunter. No, she wasn't afraid the other woman was going to, like, have her for dinner, or anything - and Arwen was the one who had come groaning in the room after all. It was a second-guessing of sorts though, to eggroll or not to eggroll? That was the question.
"I hate my stupid job," Arwen's fingers wrapped around the take out container; she sat up in the same motion. "Long live the Video Maniac, and screw the stupid Richies who put it out of business. You know I had to," She crunched into the eggroll, "Spend half an hour! Cleaning out the Galaga machine because one of their heathen spawn shoved pepperoni into the coin slots?"
"No freaking respect, dude," Arwen took another dramatic crunch. "Any of them."
A beat. "...What about you?" Another. "How was your day?"
It wasn't very often that Arwen found herself out in the common space, of her own volition, at least. Something that she had picked up from a lifetime of group homes, and bedrooms that were barely even hers; chaotic on the outskirts of the block, but quiet as a mouse once she crossed over the threshold. Since living with Fallon, and Juno, Arwen had begun to find herself chipping away at the urge to hide away in her hole in the wall.
It was a slow process. Evenings on the porch, dinners on the couch with the both of them; their insistence that she hang up some poster in the hallway that she didn't have the space for on her own walls, that she display her collections across the house. She hadn't exactly gone all out; a poster, and a couple of action figures, at most. It had all led up to a point in the Now, though, that left Arwen splayed out against the floor she had quickly, and dramatically, crashed against the moment she had walked through the door. A loud, signature, 'UUGGGHHHH,' escaping from her.
She didn't say anything else, didn't know how. Arwen would've punched anyone that called it begging for attention, but her eyes still peeked up at Fallon. A silent plea ran through her head, 'ask me what's wrong, ask me what's wrong, ask me what's wrong.'
"It can't just be -" Arwen pushed with all of her might against the door to the bathroom, a loud 'UUGHHHH!' pushing it's way from her lungs, "Locked!"
Except it could! And despite the hope of total delusion keeping her fighting with the jammed door, Ari was beginning to feel trapped. Just like one of those live bait rats you could buy at the pet store, oh, look! She had just been dropped into the cage with the snake. Her friends had warned her about the Bathroom Wars at Bend Records, god forbid it was actually fuuucking affecting her.
"Are you going to try and help me? Or are you just planning on letting this stupid door win?" She turned on her heel, faced her fellow prisoner. Spencer Beckett, public enemy #1... Well. At this point, he had to be Public Enemy #9, at least: it's not like the guy had made her life that special type of living hell since High School. Still, if a simple look at him was enough to bring it all back up - maybe he deserved a higher spot on the list.
"Because I don't have time to sit in this stupid bathroom all night!" And it was basically a matter of time until the whole, 'being trapped' thing sent her into a total spiral. Great. Bend Records was actually trying to kill her.
"But you were supposed to be off an hour ago, dude! Just tell your boss you've got like...." Arwen wracked her brain for some kind of excuse. It was usually easy - she had used enough of them in her lifetime to fill a rolodex - but with her own work day already under her belt... So, what? Her brain was a little fuzzy. "Ugh, just tell her the truth! They're playing Ghostbusters at the theater tonight, it'll be gone by tomorrow -"
"And you promised, I might add, that you would go with me!" Arwen's voice was loud enough that it got a few of the customers attention. Suddenly they were less interested in flipping through records than hearing whatever drama she was stirring up at the counter. It made her quiet down at least a little, eyes rolling to the back of her head; a moment to huff out a deep breath. "Come on. What are they gonna do, Andy? Fire you for leaving after your scheduled time?"
NICKNAMES: ari, wen
AGE: 23.
DOB: June 29th.
GENDER: female.
PRONOUNS: she/her.
★ PIZZARAMA: Since the local movie store closed, Video Maniac, Arwen works at the arcade in Pizzarama - making change for dollars, watching over the machines, distributing prizes to the suckers who play for tickets! She pretty much hates Pizzarama, would much rather be back hawking tapes... But life has never exactly gone her way. Now she all she can do is spend her free time playing Pac Man, and pray that with the Richies something beautiful might at least come along with them: like a Blockbuster.
★ BEND RECORDS: When Arwen isn’t at the Arcade she’s usually at Bend Records: indoors wreaking havoc, or outside doing skateboard tricks with the other losers in town. While Arwen is hanging out in the record store, she’s usually bothering just about everyone that she can. Sometimes she’ll help them put things away, sometimes she’s the one making the mess… and you can pretty much always count on the fact that she’ll be staying after closing.
PERSONALITY:
+TRAITS: assertive, creative, courageous, compassionate in the right situations, independent.
-TRAITS: sarcastic, guarded, judgmental, too strong willed
HEADCANONS:
Arwen was raised by her parents until she was eight years old. They were both sixteen when they had her, and the three of them were the opposite of a stable household. Arwen ended up being left alone on multiple nights, and forced to find her own way to school starting in the first grade; only seven years old, and responsible for her own dinner, her own education (Matilda vibes).
The night her parents didn’t come home, she was sure something horrible had happened to them long before the police came to find her in the morning. It was a drunken car accident: her father died instantly — her mother came out with a few scratches, and with a case of triple manslaughter to her name. She went to jail, and Arwen was left parentless.
After the accident, Arwen’s family refused to take responsibility for her: they had never approved of the pregnancy in the first place, and didn’t want to clean up the mess. The girl, instead, was placed into foster care. Arwen doesn’t ever remember hoping that she’d get adopted… didn’t know how she could possibly just become part of a family, where she would fit in. Maybe that’s why none of them ever ended up sticking. She was a little too independent; never been placed with someone who wasn’t keen on giving up on her at the first sign of trouble. But maybe she was a little too used to blaming herself for it all too.
Arwen and Andy ended up in the same foster home for a period of a few years. As far as she’s concerned, he’s the closest she’s gotten to having someone she can call her actual family: in fact, she’s taken to calling him her big brother ever since they were living under the same roof. She’s a fierce sort of girl, and she would double the venom tenfold if it came to protecting Andy… though, the same could probably be said for anyone else that she considers herself close to.
Arwen works at the arcade in Atlantic Landing, and can be found there even on her days off. Her name is on the top of most of the scoreboards - especially Ms. Pac Man - and makes a big deal of protecting her high scores. She WILL thieve quarters to play games.
Honestly, she’s kind of a big fucking neeerrrddd beneath it all. It’s probably because it was the ONE thing she ever bonded with her father over - her name is Arwen for god’s sake - but she’s always found comfort in sci-fi, fantasy, gaming, and a large collection of VHS tapes to keep her company. She’s the quiet type of nerd, always ready to show some idiot guy up about their favorite show, but never proud enough to go wearing a video game or movie shirt…. Walk into her house, though, and it’s basically like walking into a Blockbuster that’s in desperate need of a cleaning.
Her favorites are Batman comics, but she’s especially enthusiastic about his villains. She secretly loves what she considers trashy TV shows, and movies (the OC, legally blonde, my so called life, dawsons creek, etc). She’s got a collection of computer games at her house, but prefers to play at the arcade where there’s real people to beat.
Is trying to campaign Foggy to get a couple of arcade games in the record store, but is constantly told no. She has no plans on giving up the fight.
She’s gotten the attention of the Richie’s lately with her skateboard, and has been yelled at quite a few times about “”safety,”” and “”scratching paint off the curb,”” but Arwen can’t bring herself to care about their newfound rules. She’s been skating on the streets of Atlantic Landing since she was a kid, and she wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon — reputation as Public Enemy Number One be damned.
She loves hard, but feels betrayal like twice as hard as that. She’s never seriously “dated” anyone, and has only ever hooked up once in her life… but she’s started to feel lonelier, and less inclined to shut the world. Still, she’s usually the one saying, “it can’t work, we can’t be together,” without ever truly having a reason WHY.
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