what is something you never told another living soul? ( for miriam ) // true or false : you regret not trying to make your marriage work. ( for miriam )
Tw: Death

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@byrds-bees
what is something you never told another living soul? ( for miriam ) // true or false : you regret not trying to make your marriage work. ( for miriam )
Tw: Death
I wanna talk to you!
Grant was happiest when he could make others happy which was why he was basically beaming now. Especially when her hand made contact with his arm, bringing a sense of warmth to his face. "I definitely would not call myself an artist." He laughed, his face turning a bit pink. "I've always been better at sports, but I had an accident in college which resulted some surgeries. But my sister was an artist and now I do it mainly for her and, I guess, a little for me too." It definitely made him feel closer to her. @byrds-bees
"If you make something you're an artist," she declared without hesitation. Miriam noticed the pink in his cheeks which made her smile even wider. In the few minutes they'd been talking she already felt a wonderful sense of ease around him. The warmth of his aura was evident and he had her attention completely. "Oh no! That doesn't sound fun. What sports did you play?" She tucked a curl behind her ear and leaned a hip against the record shelf. There it was again, past tense referring to his sister. "And uh... now?" she asked gently, seeking clarification, knowing without it she'd likely put her foot in her mouth. @masovhistic
"Wow! That's really cool! My sister was an artist." The past tense probably didn't escape her notice, but Grant carried on with that same bright smile, only the tiniest bit dim now. "Nope, just have a deep appreciation for music but I work at Come Clay With Us, actuallly. The pottery studio? I have an affinity for making bowls and cute little cutlery." He joked, knowing that his bowl making skills were a little lacking, but he was coming along. And with a little time, he'd be the master of pottery! "I'm one of the instructors there under Chase who gave me a shot when I knew, actually, literally nothing about pottery."
Her eyebrow rose involuntarily the slightest bit at the past tense. Birdie knew that a person didn't ever stop being an artist, that when it came to creating it only stopped when the body did. But she kept it to herself and smiled, giggling a little when admitted he wasn't a musician. "So you're also an artist!" she beamed, playfully touching his arm with her free hand "That's so cool! I love pottery. I'm a bit shit at it but it feels so lovely in the hands."
the bottle was likely to be short lived. for something so expensive, they were guzzling through it like supermarket cider. cheap beer was what striker was used to, the type that burned his tongue with the bubbles, that slapped him on his wrists for having the gall to consume it. “a gold butt plug? now, ain’t that some investment. the sorts of things rich folk spend their money on… it blows my damn mind,” with all that money wasted on questionable devices, third cars, second homes, those that belonged to the bottom of the pile could have been aided. relying on food banks, garbage cans and kind restaurant workers kept striker’s head above water, but how long would his luck last when it came to keeping a full belly?
there was only a dribble of the vodka left, and striker handed it back to miriam with a nudge of his knuckles. “since you swiped it, you can have the last gulp.” they had guzzled it at such a speed that the fogginess in his mind hadn’t quite set in, his brain buffering as it attempted to keep up. with beer came a heaviness, with scotch came a burn: the vodka had gone down smoother than water, and in the morning striker would realise that was a curse rather than a blessing. hangovers weren’t as easy now he was on the wrong side of forty. “well, ain’t that somethin’ to test. you wanna grab somethin’ else for the road?”
Miriam has tasted alcohol of all price tags and for the most part maintained that booze was booze and it didn't really matter. That being said, there was something whimsical about swallowing gold, especially stolen gold. "Yeah, not exactly the best investment in my opinion. But she had more money than sense," she paused to smile, recalling her old friend. "but of a collector of devices that one." Birdie had never been a big fan of frivolousness. She lived a very comfortable life and always had, but while her friends bought handbags the price of a new car, she'd always preferred things a bit simpler. Taking the bottle, she smiled and held it up to him, dipping her head a little before swallowing it back, the last of the gold flakes landing weightlessly on her tongue. She was well aware her choices may be considered questionable when reviewed in the morning light, but that was exactly what she was after. A little adventure, a little scandal, and hopefully some inspiration. "I've got a better idea." Her smiled spread wider as her eyes flittered over his face, scanning the details and constructing a base sketch in her mind. "I've got a bottle of Hendrick's at home. Let me paint you. It's just a few blocks over."
Miriam has tasted alcohol of all price tags and for the most part maintained that booze was booze and it didn't really matter. That being said, there was something whimsical about swallowing gold, especially stolen gold. "Yeah, not exactly the best investment in my opinion. But she had more money than sense," she paused to smile, recalling her old friend. "but of a collector of devices that one." Birdie had never been a big fan of frivolousness. She lived a very comfortable life and always had, but while her friends bought handbags the price of a new car, she'd always preferred things a bit simpler. Taking the bottle, she smiled and held it up to him, dipping her head a little before swallowing it back, the last of the gold flakes landing weightlessly on her tongue. She was well aware her choices may be considered questionable when reviewed in the morning light, but that was exactly what she was after. A little adventure, a little scandal, and hopefully some inspiration. "I've got a better idea." Her smiled spread wider as her eyes flittered over his face, scanning the details and constructing a base sketch in her mind. "I've got a bottle of Hendrick's at home. Let me paint you. It's just a few blocks over."
Miriam. Miriam with the bright eyes and the expressive way in which she talked about art was possibly the most interesting being that Andy had met in some time now. When their hands met Andy felt the tell-tale signs of a blush begin to form on her own cheeks, her heart kick starting a new rhythm. A single eyebrow arched in response to the woman stating that she too was an artist and immediate sense of interest came over her - an unusual response to someone she'd just met.
Because while she was curious about everything some parts of her felt cut off from everyone else. It was unusual that she wanted something - even rarer to find someone she wanted - and with a sinking feeling in her chest, she realized that she did want Miriam. It was sudden but not fleeting, that want, and she remained tongue tied for the smallest of moments, allowing a lapse in conversation as she took in the timid smile on the others features.
"Do you have work here?" She couldn't look away from Miriam but knew that it was likely that she was coming across too strongly, too intensely, so she broke eye contact and made to look around. But she was positive that the woman didn't have work here as she had been on the roster tonight along with a few others; Miriam didn't ring a bell. "Or nearby?" She hadn't even realized that their hands were stil connected, fingers just the tiniest bit intertwined until she looked down at them. Dropping her own, she pulled away slowly, hypervigilant of what she'd done and the reaction that it would get.
Miriam studied her face. There was a longing in her eyes that made Birdie want to wrap her arms around her right there in the gallery, but a sternness in her jaw that made her think twice. The faint lines in her face had her desperate to know everything in Andrea's life that had brought her to that very moment. Miriam's face was hotter than it had been moments ago. Her hairline starting to feel damp at the nape of her neck. She was used to wanting to meet every freckles on the body of a beautiful woman in her presence, but she'd never felt such a desire to whisper her secrets to each of them as she kissed them. The warmth of Andrea's hand felt right and she was already dreading how empty her hand would feel when they parted. "I did. Last autumn." Miriam nodded but didn't take her gaze from Andrea. There was a part of her that feared if she looked away she would disappear. "I do actually, just a few blocks over at the gallery with the blue doors, Bartleby's. I uh... have a few in Chelsea and Camden too." She tried not to show her disappointment when their contact broke, instead pulling her gaze away and back to the painting. Taking a second to gather herself as she looked at the piece, she finally turned back to Andrea, the flush rising again in her cheeks. "Do you have others on show right now?" she asked with a smile that was meant to be relaxed and casual.
Returning the grin with a full beaming one of his own, Grant shook the woman's hand, his eyes lingering on her lips. "You have a nice smile, Miriam." He complimented, brown eyes alight with his immediate affection for his new friend. Grant was often like that, giving pieces of his heart with little thought to who had them. "So," he let his hand drop for her soft one before they found the pockets of his jeans. "What else do you like besides good music?"
Her eyes widen a little at the sweetness of the compliment and she blushed, then smiled a little wider. "Thank you." Tucking a stray curl behind her ear she glances down at the stack in her arms again then back up at him. He's handsome in the kind way that she's sure could make anyone feel at ease, warm, inviting. "I'm a painter... well other mediums too, but mostly painting, so I like art. How about you? I'm guessing not a musician?" She laughs, a little louder than she'd meant to, but her eyes are locked on him now.
Her eyes trekked the blush overtaking the woman, eyes lingering on her bottom lip before flickering upwards to her eyes. She was not expecting her own thoughts to be spoken out loud, for this woman to see a piece of her through the painting without her having to explain it. Most critics would say that this particular painting wasn't her strongest because of the lack of expertise used in the making of it but this was who she was -- messy, layered, complicated. Angry.
"I was," she answered, finally pulling her eyes away from the stranger and to the painting on display, "angry, I mean." She clarified with a sigh and a bashful little smile. "It wasn't a good day, that day." Tsking, she introduced herself. "I'm Andrea." The artist is what she didn't say, but she thought that it was rather obvious now. Holding her hand out for the woman to shake, there was an intensity to her gaze that was always present, always inquisitive. "You have a very good eye for the details, stranger."
It took a second for Miriam to realize what the other woman had said. I was. She was the artist and Birdie had just gone on and on about the piece as if they were both seeing it for the first time. Her face started to get warmer and she opened her mouth to apologize but stopped herself when the woman continued. "Miriam," she said almost timidly. Seldom did she find herself feeling shy, but the combination of Andrea's appearance and knowing she had created the remarkable piece they were both looking at had Birdie tongue tied and a little star struck. Meeting Andrea's hand with her own, she felt a shiver run through her at the contact. "Thank you. I uh... I'm a painter too. And I'm sorry it came from a bad day, but it is truly remarkable." She gestured to the piece with a slight smile.
"it's bad enough he's found my toybox, i don't need him seeing every detail of them. he'd send me to confession - we don't even go to church," she said. "i'm tellin' you, it works. roll out a couple a day, you're good to go, just... be prepared for several bathroom trips, i've had bad experiences with having to change my pants because i'm dumb and forget about extra protection until it's too late. had to leave poor mr. sims in his birthday suit the other day because i felt an emergency, and he's mad mad cause he's been dead quiet ever since," jamie said. "probably because he's in our freezer," piper said, signing as she walked back into the kitchen. "i need my ears, tabby mumbles too much for me to read and she's talking some major shit on captain america and i need to know exactly what so i can defend my husband chris evans," the teen said, picking up her mother's glass, which was immediately swiped back from her. "you can't drink that," jamie said, tugging the cochlear processor off of the fridge and passing it to piper, waiting for her to connect it before speaking again. "tell adam to stop jumping, he's gonna end up falling through my ceiling," jamie said. "kay kay," piper said, kissing each woman on the cheek before exiting the room. jamie's attention turned back to the conversation. "what happens if we suck as a couple, though? how would we go back to being best friends after a break up? i don't wanna fuck up the dynamic. we're a happy little family, my soul gets a little more crushed every day that he's not calling me his girlfriend, but we're still closer than ever and fuckin' like our lives depend on it, so why ruin a good thing? the day i can't just walk into his house any time i feel like it is the day you can check me in to a padded white room, because that would mean some woman that waited too long to find her own soulmate dug her claws into mine and she'd be playing the whole 'she should knock before she comes into our house' card and then i'd have to embalm her while she's still alive," jamie rambled, quickly finishing the drink in her glass as if it was a shot. "how am i already salty about a bitch that doesn't exist?"
"No kidding," she laughed, then shuddered thinking about the awkwardness of it all. There weren't many perks to being in the dead dad club, but that was definitely one. Though knowing Alfie Byrd, he probably would have high-fived Miriam and told her to get her freak on. Miriam stared at her friend for a second before finally allowing herself to laugh, letting out a groan at how bad the joke was. "Of course he is," she snorted in response to Piper then took a drink from her glass, the one she was definitely allowed to be drinking, unlike the teenager. Giving Piper a squeeze before she bounced back to her friends, Birdie smiled adoringly at the girl. She was never sure if she wanted kids of her own, but she loved Piper. "Yeah," she nodded. "I guess it's just about if the risk is worth it, y'know? Like would that hurt more than this already does. Maybe you could jedi mind trick him into saying it first? I mean there's has to be a pretty good chance he also has feelings. I know men can be a bit stunted, but like you said, you made a baby with him and are still best friends." Finishing her drink she got up to refill both of their glasses. Given the topic of conversation, she figured Jamie would need it. "How long would it take embalming fluid to kill someone?"
Who was the last person you cried in front of?
"In front of? Probably Jamie. I don't cry in front of people often, but she's played audience to a few of my breakdowns."
It hadn't been too long since Eddie had arranged this meeting, having been hunting around for a while for something to brighten the office up —- his office anyway. The rest of the building could probably use something as well, but one step at a time. He needed to start somewhere and his office was the best place for that.
As he stepped out into the lobby, his receptionist motioned towards the young woman sitting on one of the couches and he flashed a smile in her direction as he approached. "Hi," came his response, reaching out to take her hand and giving it a firm shake. "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Eddie." They were always pretty casual around here, there'd never be any 'Mr Duncan' as far as he was concerned. Plus, Mr Duncan would always be his father. Always.
"Let's go this way." A pause as he headed back in the direction of his office. "Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Amanda makes a killer berry smoothie."
His grip was firm and she had to keep from smiling too big, lest he think she was absolutely unhinged. Following his lead down the hall Miriam noticed how bare the walls were, the occasional poorly framed and generic art scattered around, but nothing worth really looking at. She had to stop her mind from being too inspired by the nakedness, there was no good getting too ahead of herself. "You have someone who makes smoothies?" she asked, raising an eyebrow and chuckling. "How can I possibly say no to a smoothie that I don't have to prepare myself? As long as it's not too much trouble, if it is I am perfectly fine with water." When they reached the office she stood at the doors and surveyed the room, then pulled out her sketchbook to make a few notes about the lighting. "So, shall we start with any requirements you have for the piece?"
Andy always thought champagne tasted a lot like chilled bubble bath but it didn't deter her from drinking it. She didn't chug it, nor did she sip it, but some middle ground had to be made as she always got nervous when her work was on display. Art critics could be assholes she'd found, and it reminded her too much of her mother, so she'd taken to getting tipsy at these shows; only ever enough to let loose and drop her shoulders. She'd done her obligatory schmoozing through the event and now took to the outsides of the event space, keeping a close eye on the crowd and moving around it rather than through it.
She came to a rest in front of one of her newest pieces and eyed it rather critically. But rather than pick it apart like she knew she would do, she turned her head just slightly to look at the woman before it. Admiring the slope of her neck, the transfixed look on her face, Andy let the smallest of smiles curl her lips. The woman was beautiful, oh yes, and Andy found herself immediately captivated and maybe would have forgone her shy and reserved nature to ask her a question had she not asked one first.
Eyes snapping back to the painting, she pursed her lips, tilted her head and really looked. "What do you like about it exactly?" It was done in a fit of rage, the brush strokes uneven and harsh flits across the canvas, here and there with no real pattern; she had entered it tonight on a whim.
The question made the tips of Birdie's ears go warm and she swallowed hard. Taking a moment to evaluate the piece again, she nibbled on her bottom lip as she thought. "There's a gravity to it," she broke the silence, tilting her a head a little. "You can tell by the lengths of the brush strokes that it wasn't done with the same attention to detail as the others were. And you can see by the uneven paint placement that the artist was moving quickly, whether that be from excitement or anger is up to interpretation though. It's frantic." she sighed a little. "It's a rendering of a moment from within the moment. No context, no politics, just the insides." When she realized she'd kind of rambled, she loved over again with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, sometimes I get a little carried away."
so he might have ulterior motives for walking over and introducing himself to her. ulterior motive being, he thought she was deeply attractive and, apparently, she had good taste in music from the record that she'd been checking out thus far. "that's a good one," he nods before he starts humming the tune from one of the songs on the record, completely butchering it. clearing his throat, he blushes and nods. "yeah, i suck but the song is actually good." laughing at himself, humble as ever, he offers his name in exchange for, he hopes, a smile. "i'm grant." @byrds-bees
Birdie had been thumbing through the albums for well over an hour, her right arm cradling a stack of four albums as her left searches for more. The promise of a good haul thick in the air. Since moving out of her van, she'd finally been able to start adding to her collection. Pulling up a pre-loved copy of The Beach Boys Pet Sounds, she beams, head turning when she hears the voice, her grin widens when she sees who the voice belongs to. "No, I totally got it," she laughs, placing the record on top of the used Blue album she'd been excited to find. "Miriam." Juggling the records into her left arm, she holds out her hand
location: Heart and Soul Gallery closed starter for: @masovhistic (Andy)
Miriam had always found solace in art galleries. No matter the size or the country it was located, the moment she walked into the strategically lit space she felt at home. She'd even been fortunate enough to see her own pieces displayed in a few. She'd worn her hair down and her jeans tight, preparing for an after party to the show that night. She had no idea who would be there, but she'd never had trouble finding her way into a party and was fairly confident she'd know at least one person in the room. Champaign flute in hand she gazed adoringly at the pieces that hung on the walls, stopping in front of one that was easily going to be her favourite. So transfixed on the details of the brush strokes and the contrast of the colours, Miriam almost didn't notice the woman who had stood beside her. "It's incredible, isn't it?" she said softly to the stranger, only then turning to look at her fully. Her stomach fluttered a little when she realized the radiance of the other person. Her hair a rich copper and her jaw set, she was easily a decade older than Birdie, but that had never deterred her before. Feeling her cheeks flush a little she took a long drink from her delicate glass, finishing her champaign in one gulp.
location: Hammond's Pub closed starter for: @pullumtendies (Chase)
Four drinks and a joint into the night, Miriam sat at the bar with her chin in her hand, elbow on the sticky bar keeping her upright. The book she'd been reading was discarded on the bar beside her, a cocktail napkin her bookmark. She'd been eyeing the man at the other end of the bar for well over an hour, hoping to catch his attention. He reminded her of someone, but in Notting Hill everyone seemed to remind her of someone, she was sure she'd met half of the neighbourhood at at least one party or event. The bartender asked if she wanted another drink and she found her in. Sending him back down to the other end to ask the man who'd caught her attention what he wanted, on her. When they both looked over, she hopped to her feet and grabbed her purse and book, making a beeline for him. "Hi," she smiled when they were close enough for her to be heard. "I'm Miriam."
SCORPIO RISING TATTOO PARLOUR w/ @byrds-bees
“Lookin’ to get a tattoo today?” Jaxson smiles, walking up towards the counter.
"Yeah," she beamed and pulled out a sketch from her bag. "I'm not sure how much time you have but I'm hoping to get a piece done of my van." Miriam knew it would probably seem a little silly to everyone else, but she missed living in her old van. Though her new place was significantly less cumbersome and didn't require daily sweeping, living stationary just wasn't the same.
"nah, cause the first time my dad finds a wand and thinks it's a neck massager is the day i'll turn in my soul," she said. "i do. the trick is orgasms. the contracting helps your uterus shed the lining faster. you should try it. you'll thank me later." jamie let out a small snort. "i'll have to call and ask. i gotta get a microchip so i can track him. he keeps turning off his life360." jamie listened, but went back to mixing ingredients for the cake, letting out a small sigh. "i don't want it to be someone else. i want it to be him. we made a whole ass baby, we've been friends our entire lives, we had literally every first together. i don't want love if it's not from him."
"Okay, fair. I'd also be pretty shaken if my dad found it," she agreed then smirked, "... in part because my dad is long dead." Nodding, she had to chuckle. It seemed reasonable enough given what she knew about uterine anatomy, but she wasn't yet convinced. "I'll give it a go and report back," Birdie snorted. Feigning shock, her hand flew to her chest. "Not the Life360! How else will you keep tabs?" Miriam laughed and watched Jamie expertly mixing the ingredients together, realizing she wasn't sure she'd ever made a cake from scratch herself. Softening again, her heart hurt for her friend as she described the relationship. A part of her felt a tug for her own selfish reasons, wishing she had someone in her life she'd known forever. "Yeah, that would be hard to move on from." Taking a big drink from the liquor in her glass she didn't wince as it burnt her throat. "I guess that means you might need to tell him someday. Y'know, if only for the sake of the batteries and the environment or whatever."