I'm not the one that's lost

just call me Bo if you need to call me anything

[bo-andherflock]

flash-hundredyarddash​:

Flash had just finished up the most shimmying and shaking of his life when he came to lean against the staircase. Man, what a night! How did anyone get down in black tie without needing an ice bath? Oh, how he longed for the short shorts of days gone by. He turned his head at the sound of her voice, thinking briefly of Dolly herself at the accent. He grinned in response, trying to stand up a little straighter and thinking very much of abandoning the suit jacket.

“Gladder than a clam-,” he paused, “No, wait happy as a clam! Glad to be here. This is like, fifty different parties in one and my dancing shoes are starting to catch fire. How about yourself?”

.

“Peachy,” Bo chuckled. “Well, can’t really complain, can I?” she said with a shrug. “Everything’s perfectly... Fine. I just hoped for a little more than fine,” she finished saying, glancing at the man beside her over her shoulder. “Tryin’ to please everyone, I say, you might fall short. But at least it seems like most people’re havin’ a good time...”

At the news of a free party, Bo couldn’t say no. Still, she was growing more and more restless, wondering about her three beloved dogs, hoping they wouldn’t start getting anxious and end up running off her truck and into the cold, cold night, searching for her. Bo liked to believe she had them better trained than that, and she knew they were smart; nevertheless, she missed them, and as entertaining, warm and lively as the New Year party was, the scavenger was seriously considering whether she should have spent the night with her family, instead of with a whole crowd of strangers.

“I’m just wonderin’,” she said with a sigh, taking a moment to have another sip of champagne, see if that would convince her that she had made the right choice. “If I should’ve made a different decision.” In the end, she should probably not blame the party for her own blues. And then she blinked, put on a happy face, and turned to the man. “What’s been your favorite part of the party, so far?”

[bo-andherflock]

ralph-wreczycki​:

Ralph was really hoping people might not notice, but the wave of gasps and whispers that overcame the crowd was enough to tell him otherwise. Not to mention the woman in the swanky outfit who he had bumped into was now commenting. “This isn’t yours is it? Because I’m really, really sorry, I didn’t mean to. And– And I can clean it up!” He offered, as he certainly could not offer anything more substantial than that.

However, his voice trailed off as the woman began to take off her gloves. Maybe to slap him with it? Was she the blonde in the painting itself? He stood there, tense and awkward, waiting for the worst to come.

Instead, she went in a wildly different direction. Ralph blinked, staring at her in disbelief before his survival instinct kicked in. Do stuff now, question it later. He nodded dumbly and ran over to her, placing his beefy hands around her waist and hoisting her up. “You’re sure you can hold that thing, right? Or would it be better for me to try and lift it from the bottom while you keep lookout?”

.

Just by a general glance at him, the scavenger assumed he was a strong type of fella. She didn’t quite expect for him to pick her up so easily, as if she wasn’t dangling a heavy pair of boots and had a metal-and-plastic leg instead of one made out of flesh and blood. “No, I... I got it,” Bo said, with just a little bit of strain. “I’m tougher than I look, don’t worry ‘bout me.”

She unhooked the painting from the wall, grit her teeth and held the frame over her head. Turning around back at the guy over her shoulder, she figured that her partner in crime was entitled to at least something similar to an introduction. “My pleasure, by the way. Name’s Shirley.”

In the moment of distraction, her arms began to give in (it turned heavier after a while, after all, when her strength started to fail her) and a piece of chocolate frosting that was still on the front of the painted man’s suit grazed Bo’s forehead and nose. She blinked, and huffed, and briefly tried to lick it off with the tip of her tongue, but couldn’t quite reach. “Now, what’s a place where they’d never, ever look?”

[wendy-dxrling]

she wasn’t sure if she wanted to attend the new years party, but wendy darling was a woman with manners and when someone invites you to a party they’re throwing, you have to attend, at least to show face a little. 

there were very few times in wendy’s life where the was rendered speechless but today was one of those very days. witnessing the extravagant decorations, the effort charlotte had clearly gone to, even just the size of the la bouff estate in general - and the fact that wendy had to call it an estate, all were good enough reasons to her to be unable to find words. 

after handing her invitation over and weaving her way through partygoers who were indeed going all out, wendy found the giant bar that was just casually another room in the never-ending estate and ordered a drink.

@happieststarters​

[bo-andherflock]

.

It had been a long way to the top, and yet Bo was nothing if not determined. The attic door wasn’t immediately obvious, but after some careful examination the scavenger had found it; and, inside, she found a surprisingly small collection of antiques that weren’t particularly mind-bogglingly valuable (after all, these sorts of things were probably kept in storage somewhere far less accessible) but still, it was undoubtly more than Bo could say she ever got her hands on.

Most importantly, she had to be quick. After glancing around in the little light, what caught her eye was a silver flask with engravings of vines and flowers; perfect to claim it was hers all along, in case someone asked. Once she dusted it off, made sure it was real silver, and stored it safety under her garterbelt, she got out the attic, closed the door, and joined the party downstairs. No harm done.

Still, her heart was racing. Bo got to the bar, and took out the flask from underneath her skirt, and admired it for a while. She asked for a whiskey on the rocks, and as soon as the bartender turned around she emptied the glass inside the newly acquired antique. It took her a moment to realize someone was having a drink right beside her, and might had noticed her not-at-all-suspicious behaviour. “You’ve seen nothin’, kid,” she whispered to the young woman (who looked maybe a bit too young to be drinnking, but who was Bo to judge), and took a swig.

[bo-andherflock]

happiestterencegold​:

-

“But-” Terence pouted. Sulking in a corner over the fact that he was denied food. Honestly, he should’ve eaten before coming here. But alas he wanted to look stunning in his suit and he had a feeling he would look bloated in front of Henrik if he did eat before. His stomach grumbled with him as he watched the empty plate. Maybe he could, like, lick the crumbs off-NO! That wasn’t mannered.

“Urg.” He said sadly like a kicked puppy. One…two…three…four…five…six….seven…eight…nine…ten…eleven…twelve - still no food was being brought.

Well now he was just getting angry, his ears turned red. His hands balled into fists. And then he sat down like a child with a tantrum.

.

Bo laughed a bit at his expression, but managed to keep it together, at the very least to avoid getting into any further trouble. The guy just pouted, however, and groaned and sulked like an annoyed little kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum. Perhaps it was because of her babysitting days; Bo’s first reaction was to reach for his shoulder to pat. Thankfully, she stopped herself before she looked positively insane.

“Aw, darlin’, don’t look so down...” she said gently, surprised at herself for actually feeling sorry for him. “Listen, d’you know where the kitchen is? We could find a way to... Y’know, get some of these entrées before they’re brought here. I could give you a hand,” Bo continued, smiling apologetically –even though it would be wrong to say she was sorry at all. “Unless yuo just wanna sit here and keep waitin’...”

[bo-andherflock]

flynnxrider​:

//

While Flynn never minded a party, one put on by a high society bunch did tend to remind him of ones like that which he had gone to in the past, where the goal had been to charm his way into the owners’ good graces before making off with their things later on. Being just at a party like that without an ulterior motive was a bit of a new experience for him, but he fancied he had not lost a step when it came to charming people.

He had been plying said charm in one part of the house and was passing through to another when he paused by the staircase, and heard the woman’s question. Even if he was thinking about his past exploits at parties, it would be a rare occasion that he was not glad to have come to one. But Flynn decided to tease instead, sticking his nose in the air and remarking, “Oh, I suppose as parties go, it’s passable. They should’ve hired a better DJ though.” By which he naturally meant himself.

.

The night was still rather young, and there were more and more people arriving to the party. A few friend groups had already assembled: squealing women showing off their gowns, laughing men discussing winter holidays, all of them dressed to the nines. The man standing besides Bo had a simple tux, though, in her opinion, he made it look quite nice. She quickly examined his overall demeanor, trying to guess what type of man he was. He seemed relaxed, comfortable, and yet not too drunk yet.

Bo had another sip of champagne. “’S that so?” she asked him, swirling her glass, and shot him a glance before scanning the dance floor again. “What would you play, if you were in charge?”

[lovesickbrat]

[bo-andherflock]

reaganrackett​:

There was nothing Reagan loved more than crashing some rich bitch party and acting like she not only belonged to the upper echelons of Redwood Hollow, but that she was better than them. Snotty little nepo babies had spent their lives looking down on her, now it was her turn to do the same. This year was helped by a rather stunning dress that she’d been able to snag in the wake of the skeleton crew police force (at least, until she’d been arrested, but that was a different story), solidifying her ruse.

As she descended down the staircase, she imagined all eyes on her (they weren’t) with each dainty, delicate step, the long beads billowing behind her. Despite her outward confidence, it was actually rare for her to feel truly, incredibly gorgeous–but tonight she did. Nothing could knock her down.

So when she was addressed by a rather opulent looking woman, she returned in kind. “Well, if this is the best Redwood Hollow could dig up, I suppose it’ll have to do,” she bemoaned. “Though nothing will beat the New Years I spent in Aspen. You would not believe the kinds of things people will get up to when they believe themselves to be secluded in the mountains. Puts the Donner party to shame.” That’s what the Donner party was, right? Something like that.

.

“Not a local either?” Bo asked the fellow high-class lady, glancing at her. “Wouldn’t have guessed.” The young woman’s dress was knock-out gorgeous, and much, much nicer than Bo’s own. Didn’t matter much, in the end. Something in the way she held herself, a bit too stiff, too rehearsed for her liking, began clueing the scavenger that something was just a tiny bit off about her new conversation partner.

It could just be nothing, of course, she pondered, examining the young woman’s expression. It could very well be that she was just young and green, and that Bo was more than ten years ahead of her. But in her experience, simply put, when rich people thought they were surrounded just by their own kind, they lost all shame quicker than a pig set loose in the mud.

“Recreational cannibalism, huh?” Bo said, feigning shock. The Donner reference had surprised her more than the Aspen namedrop, obviously. Either she had a pretty dark sense of humor, or she didn’t really know her history. “Haven’t heard about that sort of retreats in quite some time. My, how on Earth did you ever make it out of there in one piece?”

[happiestterencegold-archive]

Smooth criminal

Oh Terence was going to enjoy himself. He was going to eat, dance and party. He was like always looking for his boyfriend which was the apple of his eye and the reason he even went to this party - status was still important to the hera family. So Like always Terence showed how fashionable he could be and made himself pretty.

“Hey You! I have been eying that appatizer since i came in! It’s mine.”

@happieststarters​

[bo-andherflock]

.

Bo raised her eyebrow at the guy. She looked down at the appetizer she was holding, and put herself in his stylish shoes, and briefly considered whether it was really worth it. And then she looked up back at the guy, and, without breaking eye contact, she slowly put the appetizer into her mouth.

“It’ll surely be refilled in no time,” she told him, mouth full, spitting little speckles of caviar-covered toast. And she didn’t even like caviar that much. “A lil’ patience goes a long way, don’cha think?” she grinned, and passed the tip of her tongue over her teeth teasingly.

That was definitely one of the perks of playing to be someone else. The scavenger was, of course, quite deft at escaping consequences; but there was a particular thrill of knowing nothing she did could really do a dent in her practically nonexistent reputation –all the while other people believed she had everything to lose.

[ralph-wreczycki]

Ralph hadn’t been invited to the party!

Okay, he had. In fact, an entire pile of party invitations had been dropped off at Fix-It-Felix’s Construction and Repairs Co to be handed out to all employees. But Ralph discovered that Dana (Diana? Deanna? Whatever.) from HR had tried to hide his invitation from him! This wasn’t the first time they’d tried to exclude him from their get-togethers, their little office parties and such. But this was a party for everyone in town! They couldn’t get rid of him that easily!

The theme was black and silver, “Old Hollywood” or something like that. Ralph didn’t own nearly anything that nice and instead showed up in the closest approximation he had: a T-shirt with a tux pattern printed on the front, black pants, and sneakers. That would probably be fine, right? To make up for his fashion faux-pas, he came carrying a large black and white cake in both hands. He’d attempted to decorate it like a clock, counting down to midnight. The resulting look was…much to be desired. But he was sure it was delicious and people were going to love it!

The only problem with entering the party, fashionably late, holding a huge cake, was trying to get around. Maneuvering through a crowd of people, he held the cake over his head, attempting to protect it. “Excuse me– excuse me!” He had to shout for his voice to be heard over the cacophony of music and conversation. Despite his best efforts, however, it all came tumbling down.

It happened so fast. He had no idea if someone had bumped into him or if he had tripped or what transpired. All he knew is that while he’d managed to catch himself against the wall, the cake had splattered next to him. Right into a painted portrait of a handsome, strapping man and his beautiful daughter.

“Oh no.”

@happieststarters​

[bo-andherflock]

.

A man dressed very comfortably, looking perfectly out of place, bumped into Bo in the rudest way. She turned around and just chuckled; wasn’t the first time that night that it happened, and she was feeling way too chipper, thanks to the bubbles in her champagne, to get actually pissed about it. It was a blessing that she turned around, though, because the man, who for some reason had been carrying a cake with him (maybe he was from catering?) had then stumbled right into a wall –and squashing the cake right into an expensive-looking oil portrait of what Bo had to assume was the lord of the house and his darling little princess.

“Oh no’s just about right,” Bo said, barely holding back a giggle. “Though it is a terrible waste of a perfectly good lookin’ cake.”

The crowd that had been instrumental in helping them crash into each other, and really, the ones to blame for the poor guy tripping and ruining the painting with chocolate frosting, let out a quick ‘ooh’ in mock sympathy, and walked away in laughter and awkward apologies. Only Bo and the man in the tux-printed t-shirt remained in the room, staring at the cake-covered painting. It was clear to her there was only one thing to do.

“Well... It’s not a real party til some priceless heirloom gets busted, ‘s what I always say,” Bo shrugged, and rolled her gloves off her arms –a sort of replacement for not having any sleeves to roll up. She gave a quick glance to the rather large framed portrait, trying to suss out its weight, before turning her attention back at the man. “So, what’re you waitin' for, big guy? Gimme a lift, we got to get this painting off the wall and outta sight before anyone else walks in and sees this mess.”

[bo-andherflock]

@happieststarters

“For Heaven’s sake, I’ve been at wakes that were livelier than this,” Bo grumbled, glancing around. Cradling a champagne glass in one hand, leaning one arm against the marble baluster of the gran estate’s staircase. The social lubricant was already doing its job, and it had been a great way, along with the big dancing crowd, to keep warm during one of the coldest nights of the year. The only thing she really regretted was leaving her girls by their own; especially with Gruff getting sick, she had been hoping to bring them along. Alas, not only did she know that such a party was no place for three big dogs, it just wouldn’t quite suit the persona she was attemping to put on. And besides –her girls could take care of themselves.

“What ‘bout you, darlin’?” she asked, with a velvety smile, laying the accent nice and thick, to someone who had stopped by the staircase to catch their breath. “You glad you came?”

[bo-andherflock]

Dusty white satin dress and moth-eated silk gloves –just right for Miss Gale LaBelle’s grand entrance…

[bo-andherflock]

colt-phillips​:

//

“Oh, you need help with that?” Colt said, rather stupidly. Clearly she wanted help carrying the heater. He realized that he did probably look like someone who would not have a hard time hauling something like that, and he did not really mind. “Sure, yeah, no problem.” Wrapping up what was left of his sandwich, he put it in his pocket, then held out his arms to take the heater. “That’s definitely a good-size load you got there. Uh, how far we talkin’ ‘bout takin’ this? I mean, I’ve carted plenty of hay bales and car parts in my time, but not exactly for miles on end.”

.

“Hay bales, huh,” Bo’s eyebrows shot right up. A country boy, who would’ve guessed. “Oh, my truck’s just about two miles away,” she said, after a quick calculation, glancing around and taking a guess from the look of the now familiar streets. “Why, ‘s it too heavy for you?” the scavenger asked him as a joke, with a sly little smile. At least in her case, if someone gave her a dare, she could feel her energy rushing back in.

She handed him the heater, and her arms were plenty thankful for it. She sighed in relief, and let out a brisk cough. Bo shut her eyes and pressed her lips shut. If there was something she didn’t need, was to get sick right in the middle of winter. Well, that was what the heater was for, after all.

“So,” she said, swallowing another cough and pushing her hair back. “Name’s Bo. Not a local, clearly, and if I had to guess, I’d say you’re no local either,” Bo scoffed, letting out a chuckle and actually giving the guy a good hard look. “Not a lot of hay bales ‘round these parts.”

[thingsfromthedirt]

[imattractedtopower]

Starter for @bo-andherflock​

Mirage was still getting used to the small town life, and suspected it would take her another few months for it to really sink in. The initial plan was for a short stay, but following the Halloween Hiccup, she had been handsomely convinced by Mr. Borosky to stay longer and assist with his goal. The rather unfortunate side-effect to living small town, while trying to blend in, was that such a place didn’t have the automatic anonymity of big city living, or Door Dash. She had to go grocery shopping herself, on foot, and risk every moment making a lasting impression on the town’s folk.

Mirage walked tentatively away from the grocery store, trying to avoid slipping on the ice as she carried her bags in the direction of her apartment. It was a decent walk. (However, showing up in a chauffeur driven car to buy red bell peppers and rice didn’t seem discreet.) Sadly, as invisible as she had been in the store, there was little she could do about the nose of a dog. A large dog had bounded in front of her path, sticking its muzzle right into her grocery bag to get a sniff at what was there. “Oh! Oh– No, no, that’s– Down, boy. Down.”

[bo-andherflock]

.

Something Bo had learned through years of practise was that a lot of moneyed people would dump the most incredibly valuable things without a second thought. That, and the fact that it was usually the houses in the richest neighborhoods that were decked out to the nines during the holidays, making for the loveliest light and color spectacles of borderline tacky decor, was the main reason why she was hanging around that part of town. Soon the cold would get really bad, she wouldn’t be able to scavenge for her goods anymore and the best Bo would be able to do, apart from her odd jobs, was to try and sell some treetop ornaments she could pass for authentically vintage.

What she had to be always wary of, especially when prowling these sorts of areas, was of locals getting nervous about seeing someone relatively scruffy like her in their supposed territory. That’s why she raised her voice when Gruff got overly friendly with a stranger.

“Hey –Gruff!” she called out in a sharp yell. “C’mere, girl.” The dog was startled, but quickly hurried to Bo, and bowed her head for reassuring pets, which the scavenger was more than willing to give. “Told you a million times, baby, don’t go stickin’ your nose where it don’t belong...” She glanced up at the exceedingly elegant woman who for some reason was carrying a whole bunch of grocery bags on her own, looking as if her butler had to take a sick day. “She didn’t break or eat anything from you, did she?”

[bo-andherflock]

starter for @lynthormcqueen​

Little jobs waiting tables or stocking shelves were basically Bo’s bread and butter during winter season, when it was harder to peddle her little trinkets and finds on the street. That didn’t mean that, when the job competition was strong (as it tended to be with college towns), she wouldn’t grab basically any job that could take her.

Her latest venture was driving a Zamboni at Redwood Hollow’s local ice rink, which was getting an uptick in clients due to the holiday season. It would be a lie to say that, even with the long hours that left her butt sore from sitting all day, she wasn’t having any fun gliding the small truck-like vehicle through the rink, weaving between skaters and playing short-lived races with the younger kids who were just starting out. Still, Bo would sometimes get people like this particular jokester, showing off and sliding in front of her out of a sudden, as if they were trying to get her to hit them to commit insurance fraud. 

“Hey, bud?” she called with a wave of her hand, to bring their attention to her. “I’m cleanin’ the ice here!”

[colt-phillips-archive]

@happieststarters​

Even if Colt felt he was not cut out to be a farmer, there was still something to be said about the old “taking the boy off the farm” adage. He might have screwed things up for himself in the city, but he also was probably not cut out to live there either, not really being a fan of the noise and the crowds. Redwood Hollow was a much more palatable place, yet he still had moments of feeling a little too crowded. So when he stopped into the café to grab a bite, then saw how crowded the place was, he headed outside with his food, despite the chill in the air. Colt really did not mind; he would take the cold over a crowd any day. 

So as he stood there, his mind wandering as he munched his sandwich, he had not really expected to come across anyone else. Thus when he realized someone was talking to him, he also realized he had completely missed what they said. “Mhm, wha?” he mumbled, quickly swallowing his bite of sandwich before trying again. “Ah, sorry. What’d you say? Think I missed it the first time.”

[bo-andherflock]

.

Bo huffed. “I said, I could use a little help here?” She gestured towards the heavy portable heater she had managed to trade at the market, which had finally teared through the flimsy cardboard box the previous owner had given her to carry it in. It hadn’t looked as unwieldy as it really was for the first few miles, but now, with arms sore and a thinning patience after a just-okay round of bargaining and haggling, she could see why it might have not been the best idea to insist on carrying it all by herself.

She glanced at the guy chomping down a sandwich. He looked like a deer in the headlights, if the deer was the size of a young bear. Definitely, he seemed like the sort of person who might just be able to carry that heater all the way home without breaking a sweat.

The scavenger took a deep breath of the cold air. “Please. Could you give me a hand?” Bo didn’t know what the odds were that the guy would actually help her, but if she had to soften herself a little bit to avoid further strain on her muscles, then so be it.

[bo-andherflock]

muses’ wardrobes   —  bo temple, summer 2022