cara turner.

[cara-turner]

I can't seem to break the  f e n c e .

⸻  cara turner. 37. journalist. helltownfms rpg.

overacted in all my  p l a n s.

BIO. PINTEREST. RPG.

[wildspringday]

sarah snook via instagram

[kenzie-newman]

"A messy, messy end." Samara sighed, glancing away, trying not to let the emotions overtake her. She'd never really talked about this before, though it wasn't like she was going to give Cara all the details. Samara wasn't sure she'd ever really go into detail. Because it was essentially a past life now, something she couldn't go back to even if she wanted to.

However, Cara's next comment caught her off guard. "Cara!" The name was an exclamation Sami shaking her head as a blush came over her cheeks. It's not like you could really have a one night stand in this town and then never see the person again. Not that Samara had done that even when it was an option. "I don't--I'm not doing that." And she didn't know anyone well enough to date them or...whatever. Another shake of her head. "But thank you." Because she knew Cara meant well, which was actually pretty sweet. "So--- you doing to tell me all your juicy gossip then?" @cara-turner

[cara-turner]

"best way to get over someone is getting under someone else —they say." words dragged lazily. a verbal shrug to the emotional tangle that she could sense. cara was a natural failgirl when it came to those categorical topics. she couldn't think of the last committed relationship she was in that wasn't just because. just a passing of time that felt like a giant patch of boredom. her heart never involved. others always wanting more from her that she couldn't give. a waste of everyone's time.

"— oh, c'mon. i mean, people are out here dying...and people want to be sex-less too ? that just sounds harmful. why deprive ourselves from what feels good ?" shrugging, cara couldn't classify herself as a person in arcadia that wasn't finding ways to enjoy herself. she could make do with what little the town provided. "ohhh, i don't know if i can release all of the juicy secrets. saw someone hiding portions of food in their room... which, became wasteful, because it just rotted while they hid it away. a real stink of a story." she humored lightly.

[unravelinq]

being in town wasn’t necessarily sadie’s preferred place to be but the library was a necessary evil as, after over eight years in helltown, she’d read just about every book there was in the settlement. reading had never been one of her favourite pastimes but she liked the stories — pride and prejudice was one of her favourites, but mostly so she could remember the movie. her attachment to the library definitely didn’t come with any other strings, of course. that would be weird.

she was barely on the third chapter when she realized the woman was looking at her as she was speaking. this confused the settlement girl. when in town, people usually didn’t approach her, especially not uninvited. it took everything in sadie not to physically recoil as the other placed her coat down, feeling strangely cornered in the near empty library. she’d seen the other before, but she never seemed quite this bold.

“no.” sadie replied while sinking deeper in the one seater, letting her arms bend and the book cover her face. for a few seconds, she remained still before sitting up with a groan and putting her book down on the table ahead. “i thought the library was supposed to be a quiet place.” the fact that sadie herself was speaking at full volume showed she clearly didn’t care about the rule, but wanted to find a way out of whatever was about to happen. “don’t you have somewhere better to be?”

[cara-turner]

"— oh, shit, yeah— you just rang the reminder bell in my head." it was a dragged out performance. a thick drawl of sarcasm. so organically spewed from cara's lips. all too pleased with the other's groan, and posture adjustment. icing on the cake was the sound of the book binding hitting the table top. all a shoe in for pulled focus. "supposed to do a quick pilates class. you know, sweat it out with some influencers, and hot moms," cara didn't do pilates. never had the smallest of urge to, "then gotta go pick up some fine silk from the cleaners before meeting friends for drinks. i hear the new bar on fifth makes a mean martini." eyes squinted, a small sigh depleted. "such a tight schedule... what on earth am i doing here....." cara made sure the pause was disturbed by her tapping nails.

there was no to-do. no plans. no better place to be. not in this hell town. days spun until your mind was confused if any time had passed at all. cara couldn't tell what brought more fear — the creatures, or the absolute boredom the place brought. "one can only watch paint flake off a wall for so long." fingers still tapped until they were collecting the others book in her hands. cara was careful to not lose reading placement. blues skimmed over the cover, "are you a romantic ?" side eye, the other in view while cara's lips curled in a smirk.

"yeah, i don't really know if the library rules still apply here. think they have any yearbooks we can deface ?" sadie, such a hard shell to crack. that was the challenge — what pressed cara's tongue to the roof of her mouth. "settlement is too boring for you ? had to come burrow in someone else's stories — we could make a better one ourselves."

[bastiansurvives]

Taking the stool beside Cara as she settled down, Bastian folded his hands together before him on the countertop. "Very true," he agreed in a soft tone, head bobbing just slightly up and down to reinforce the sentiment. This town was little more than a cage, a hell for each and every one of them trapped within. Each day brought something new, something more horrifying and...deadly. He had seen it himself, far too close for comfort. He simply wasn't built for this place.

In many ways he felt as if he was just counting down his time until the end, when he'd meet the same fate his friends had suffered upon their arrival. Was there any other ending? For any of them?

Still, her humor draws out a brief chuckle, a blush that crawls up his neck. "Oh? But what do you really want? If you weren't...trapped in this hell town?" Certainly it wouldn't be him, the anxious man who couldn't always keep it together.

He heaves a sigh as she goes on with honesty, his eyes driving back towards the windows. He's almost surprised not to see the faces painted up against the glass. "This...hasn't been easy. The darkness here...it never has..." But now it was never ending - when would the sun return? If ever? He didn't like thinking like that, in such pessimistic of ways. But he'd learned that this place has more mysteries than any other, and nothing should surprise him anymore...But the next thing around the corner might just end up being the thing that kills him.

[cara-turner]

a loaded question. what did cara want, exactly ? it was a difficult code — cracking that truth. releasing true wants into the air felt close to vulnerability. something the woman didn't like to splay her fingers against. too raw. to real. "a nice walk outside." though it wasn't her deepest desire — cara missed the normalcy of taking a stride in the late hours of the night. the cool air reddening her cheeks, hands stuffed in pockets. that night air allowed the release of the day. there would be no fear of monsters. "didn't you ever take nightly strolls ? didn't know it was a luxury until these freaks came into view." hair slightly tossed over her shoulder to catch a quick glance of who she was referring to. them. smiling. glowing with the craving of devouring you piece by piece. "they just fun suck everything, don't they ?"

— and she left it at that. her wants. no tipping toe left to explore what cara wanted in a partner. a true partner. no, that sort of commitment was only on display for humors sake. there had been no will to emotionally invest. emotions made her run. "were you ever a kid that was afraid of the dark ?" an itch at the back of her neck told her that perhaps this town liked to play with its victims fears. "ever lay in bed and think something was lurking in the closet ? under the bed ? or your lump of clothes looked like some creature ?" she hummed out before taking another bite. the food pushed between her molars — shoved up against her cheek. after swallowing, "i think it's scarier that they smile, and don't run. actually— i think it kind of pisses me off."

[siohbhanroy]

SARAH SNOOK on Late Night With Seth Meyers talking about figuring out on how to differentiate all her 26 characters in The Picture of Dorian Gray (05.15.2025)

[cara-turner]

location. ⁺ - the library.

bingo. a satisfied grin curled across cara’s lips as her gaze locked onto her unwitting prey. harmless. unexpected. she hadn’t come to the library with a target in mind - just a restless itch, that journalistic hunger urging her to poke and prod until she unearthed something new. it was the need to know, to conquer the unknown with sharp curiosity and ambition. knowledge was her claim to power, her way of tethering control to her fingertips. arcadia hadn’t tamed her. not yet. not through darkness. not through the startling light. cara’s relentless drive cut deep, but even she understood the double-edged nature of chasing answers. sometimes, they consumed you, spiraling you into places best left unexplored. what was it they said ? curiosity killed the cat ? cara smirked at the thought. she could thrive as a journalist without stepping into recklessness - she wasn’t a fool.

- there they were. a puzzle wrapped in intrigue, an enigmatic gift waiting to be unwrapped. cara’s selfish nature surged to the forefront - their presence was an irresistible challenge. she wanted to peel back their layers, to prod and poke until she unraveled the mystery. it was a fixation - the kind that annoyed her as much as it thrilled her. “oh, how lucky of you,” she drawled, confidence dripping from her tone as she shrugged off her jacket. the chill of morning clung to the fabric as she draped it over the back of a wooden chair. her presence disrupted the quiet sanctuary of the library and, more importantly, their solitude.

“haven’t seen you in a few days - miss me ? ” cara didn’t wait for an invitation. she slid into a chair, the distance between them just enough to tease, to provoke. it was an unspoken game, her proximity mimicking a cat weaving itself around its owner’s legs - demanding affection but always ready to swat a paw out. cara’s gaze flicked to them. sharp and searching. beneath the surface of her playfulness lingered a deeper truth: she wanted to understand them, to pin them down and dissect what made them tick.

// open starter.

[bastiansurvives]

For a while after Bastian first arrived in town he had refused to step outside even when the sun still hung low on the horizon. It was hard to trust that those monsters only came out when the sky was inked in black, that there wasn't a threat of attack if the sun was still present. Eventually he learned how to operate in the town he had reluctantly been forced to call home. But even now, with the darkness lingering and no choice but to step outside in it in order to keep on living, he was anxious at the whole ordeal. He wanted nothing to do with the things that went bump in the night.

But there were others here, living and breathing and fighting to get by day after day just like he was. And if he couldn't care for his family who he hoped were out beyond the borders living relatively happy lives without him, he at least had to do right by the other survivors. As best as he could do within the circumstances, anyway.

Bastian met Cara's dry, flat disinterest with a soft smile of encouragement, the bowl held aloft until she finally reached out to take it from his hands. Sometimes a hot meal that tasted halfway decent was all a person needed to liven up, even in the darkest of times. "I can only work within the limits of what we've got on hand, but I'm still hoping you'll be pleasantly surprised." At her words he could only chuckle, the tips of his fingers turning the wedding band around and around on his opposite hand. "For you, there are no strings. Happy to give you a warm meal whenever you like. How have you been holding up, Cara? With all...this." His hand waves absently through the darkness, still ever present despite the diner dotted with flickering candles that gave off a warm glow.

[cara-turner]

"consider me pleasantly surprised." another bite. god, it was good. soothing parts of the woman she didn't know needed to thaw out. relaxation extended when the woman moved to slide into one of the diner bar stools. the counter was met with a small clank of her bowl while her elbows rested on the counter. "loaded question." her lips stretched to a beaming smile. how could anyone possibly doing in a place like such ? though, cara had a way of keeping her emotions intact where others spiraled. helpful to surviving, and not letting her mind slip to emotional insanity.

typically so — cara responded, "incredible. getting hitched to the town cook. what more could a gal want ?" if she had the courage to say it out loud, cara would claim bastian as her beard. take him home despite the ring banded on his finger. someone like bastian would make her family pleased. or maybe not, usually the men her family approved of were privileged assholes. bastian was a good one. solid. if only he was paired with a vagina — cara would be sold. "no, really, it's been... uhm, hell ?" face scrunched. "lack of better words. you know... but not on the brink of ripping my hair out, and running into the woods any time soon." fingers gripped the spoon. twirling it mindlessly in the bowl. "how are you holding up ?" her other hand patted the stool beside her.

[flcnnerys]

Town jester was pretty accurate, that much he’d have to concede. At least, Chase thought he was hilarious, so it was more likely jester to him and “town nuisance” to those who still had their sanity. It did help that there was so many that were beyond any sort of comical relief, those who were just so enveloped in their own misfortune and craze that Chase ended up being the best hope for a laugh. It was a strange mix of a superiority complex and a crushing imposter syndrome, all wrapped up into one semi-malnourished twenty-something year old.

“Why do you hate it so much?” he asked, unable to help the chuckle. “Is it because it was playing everywhere for awhile?” Chase never had to work retail, but he knew of some friends he met at college who waited tables or worked in coffee shops or thrift stores, hearing the same hearty pop everywhere they went, at all times. He always figured it would’ve been easy to tune something like that out, but maybe if it caught you on a bad day or something, it was more likely the equivalent of taking a cheese grater to the brain. 

Still, he started strumming something else, something he could barely trace back from years ago, maybe something his parents would put on the refurbished record player they had in the sitting room. Something that was familiar enough to trace, but never thoroughly flesh out in all its colors. “You should definitely take your heels off, because that’s just ridiculous,” he said. “Just wash some shoes or something, if you get, like, bunions or something from high heels around here there’s nothing anyone can do about that. Like, really nothing.” That would be bad; cursed to Hell wasn’t ideal, but cursed to Hell with feet problems would have really sent him over the edge. “What parts are exciting?” Chase perked up at that, a never totally dormant part of him extremely nosy, too much for his own good sometimes. “Or even embarrassing - I miss gossiping.”

[cara-turner]

"it was like the world had a theme song. — everywhere you went, shallow. — everywhere you turned, 'shallow.' it was harder to escape than here, basically." dark joke. one that cara quietly chuckled to but allowed to painfully fizzle out. was there any escaping this place ? or were they all going to rot away if not be ripped apart by one of Them.... ? "plus, i don't know. not super into bumping a lot of mainstream. i guess." a realization that cara wasn't really certain as to what she liked, but knew what she didn't. "that makes me cool, yeah —?" she smirked.

"wash shoes...." wash anything. there was no quick stop to the cleaners in a place like arcadia. "yeah— i can probably get someone to do that for me. i'm not really the cinderella type. not scrubbing things clean, escaping from a toxic household to find the love of my life... more like the evil step sister. you know— spoiled, everything handed. slap on the wrist in the end." she humored with half truth. there was a humble slice inside of cara. there was also a huge formality of what she wanted, and what she didn't. "get what i want type." she shrugged unashamed.

"oooooh, are you a gossip queen ??" cara's voice nearly sang. she supposed she enjoyed dipping her toes in that pond a bit as well. anything to deter any personal topics directed solely at herself. nothing worse than confronting herself. cara loved to avoid, loved to be delusional about herself. "people aren't really exciting around here. a lot of crying. a lot of panic. my eyes burned turning a corner and seeing that older man on the second floor butt-naked. really had to iron my retina's off after that." her chest lifted only to exhale a breath. "ive seen some minor flirtations. people really think this place is like love island... instead of capital hell, but i guess at least they're finding joy. — or whatever."

[bastiansurvives]

Open ! | Bastian and your muse at the diner

The darkness that had settled upon the town was...unsettling, if one was to put it lightly. But time didn't stop. It just kept on moving, and Bastian had stopped trying to make sense of any of it long ago. They had to keep on keeping on - and one way they would do that is to make sure they all got at least a somewhat satisfying meal in their bellies.

Bastian had made it his own personal mission to try and keep the survivors of the town fed with healthy and tasty meals, even if what he was working with was limited. He was working on a stew on this particular evening when someone stepped into the diner and closed the door firmly behind them. Yeah, life still went on and people still needed to eat, even if there were creatures looking to kill you beyond those doors.

He shook away the thought and slapped a smile onto his face, grabbing a spoon and a bowl to fill with a serving, soon approaching the newcomer and extending the bowl in their direction. "Here - please. You've got to try this and let me know what you think."

[cara-turner]

the party at the settlement had been lasting longer than cara cared for. the darkness looming around arcadia was daunting. she could feel herself wilting like a flower away from the sun. god forbid this town had a little fun for one night... now the party was over, and cara wanted someone to turn on the lights — tell everyone they had to go home. no one was going home. the lights weren't coming back on.

"fucking christ." the red head muffled shutting the door quickly. the risk of leaving the common house had been high — but cara was certain if she stayed cooped up waiting for something to happen, she'd lose her damn mind. taking a deep breath, the woman allowed her feet to carry her further into the diner. the first few moments didn't go silent — a break of the air with bastians voice, and an offering. "chef boyardee." cara greeted dryly — her eyes following the bowl. "smells like fresh kill...lucky me." tongue to the tip of her teeth. cara knew she wasn't matching his energy. it was tough to mentally climb upwards in moments where your life clock was ticking. collapsing to his gesture, cara reached for the extended bowl. there was no denying — the concoction smelled good. the bottom of the bowl in her hands felt good. lifting the spoon upwards, cara parted her lips to take a bite. after a beat, "well, shit, bastian. might have to marry you now. wife you up."

[janinegregory]

[siohbhanroy]

SHIV ROY in every episode ► 2x07, Return

[fernsbys]

No matter how coldblooded Emery could be, she was clearly not unaffected by her own actions. Her mind was getting occupied by everything that was Cara now, like roots spreading throughout her brain. There was a heat flowing to her cheeks, her breathing changed, even just a little. Her worries about the Common House turned more of a background noise now, as her gaze flicked over Cara's body. ''There's a lot you don't know about me,'' her voice was deep - dangerous almost. Dangerous waters to tread, to explore. Arcadia had brought her younger self back, to a temptation she'd long forgotten, pushed away because her needs were satisfied. Now, with the constant doubt of her wife still being alive or not, that urge came to claw at her insides, like a spark aching to be ignited.

Her fingers ached to take a hold of the woman's hips, work up her shirt and feel her bare skin warm against her hands. To wrap her fingers around those soft looking strands of strawberry blonde hair and pull her head back so she could nuzzle her nose against her jawline and lose herself in the scent of her skin. To peel her clothes off layer by layer until she was bare enough for Emery to claim her skin between her lips and teeth, to leave marks on her pale skin as a reminder for later. For when Cara found herself alone in the shower, alone looking in the mirror, alone in her room whenever she changed in to or out of clothing.

''A sergeant doesn't take orders.'' There was a rasp present in her voice as her eyes darkened, still lingering shamelessly on the redhead's body. Her tongue ran across her lips, covering them with a light layer of saliva. She sucked in a breath before parting her lips, ''but I can make exceptions for a pretty and intelligent woman who knows what she wants...'' She drew out, not exactly done with her sentence yet. Emery closed the small distance between the wall and the bed, sitting down at the edge with her legs spread and her arms resting on top, ''...if this is what you want, Cara, I'd suggest coming over here.'' The sergeant leaned back, letting Cara decide on her own to climb on her lap and take the leap. She wasn't going to force anyone who wasn't entirely sure, but Cara had come here into her bedroom of all places, where they'd be alone.

''Let me give you what you want, by giving me what I want...'' she took her sweet time, in a place like this it was everything they had after all, ''...a night you won't forget, if you do choose to let me have a taste.''

[cara-turner]

"is that so." uninterested feet stepped closer to the woman's bed. eyes weren't shy. the sight of emery stretched out comfortably in such an unwound state was as exciting as the chase had been since cara had arrived. how could hell become so blissful ? the red head wasn't the one to answer such a question. if sex was such a sin — she was right where she belonged. "see, i don't really care about what i don't know." unbothered. emery was a target she'd been locked onto. nothing could disable the moment. even if the seething creatures jolted through the walls — cara would stay put. devour emery bit by bit. she was no better than them in that regard. oh, how they probably envied her in this moment. the places her teeth were going to roam...

a sargent doesn't take orders. cara snickered as her body crawled on top of emery. one of them obeying. the length of the woman's body beneath her caused a pleasing sigh released from her lungs. she settled straddling the leader — suffocating the heat between them. authority seemed different from the positions they were physically in. "can you learn to take an order ?" the sight of emery's hands stretched above her sent a small pout to cara's lips. they would be better positioned on her hips. in time. cara's hands gripped the woman's shirt. fabric bunching between her needy fingers — pulling emery off of the bed pillows, closer to her, closer to her needs.

eyes rolled. a simple gesture to wave off the melting words that left emery's mouth. jesus. "i want you to fuck me." blunt. cara couldn't casually tip toe in the game of intimacy. there was something vibrant about emery that felt reciprocated that they could both be fine with pleasure. to not fall in love. "what is it you want ?" something you can't resist. her voice dropped to a softer tone hovering over the older woman's lips.

[kenzie-newman]

A sigh when Cara commented that there were a million sayings about not dating coworkers, and Samara couldn't deny that she was right. And so were all the sayings. They existed for a reason. But, of course, she'd thought they'd be the exception to the rule, naïvely so.

Nodding, she leant into her hand. "It was definitely good when it was good. Otherwise we wouldn't have taken the risk. --It was just everything that came after that was terrible." The fallout, the loss of friends, feeling like she no longer was welcome... It had been rough.

The uncertainty of which Cara offered the affection actually made Samara laugh, shaking her head. "I'm okay, but thank you." She wouldn't subject the other woman to a hug. Not today, at least. Save that for another time. @cara-turner

[cara-turner]

definitely good when it was good. — caused a slow sigh to seep from the non-committal woman. "all good things come to an end." positivity for happy endings wasn't in any cara streak. monogamy had always been a 'yeah–sure i guess' decision before boredom wiped it clean. relationships required far too much energy that cara didn't possess. feelings felt gross. the worst of it all was when she spilled honesty only for someone to cry, beg, pleade. all reactions cara couldn't ever seem to digest. she'd always been thankful to walk away. not bat an eye lash.

— but there were people, normal people, like samara who had natural emotions, and reactions to human connection. "you know the people generally say it's best to get over someone by getting underneath another. think that's what a column in cosmopolitan said, at least... or maybe it was sex and the city." who knew, truly. the common phrase was true. what could the mind cling to if not someone new beneath your hips ? something she could agree with. "thank god, really, i thought i could just keep a warm friendly facade for a little while...but at some point change the subject." a small grin spread. "i do wish the best for you though... or whatever."

[flcnnerys]

“And I don’t think I’d want anyone laughing at me in a situation like that,” he said. Chase idly strummed, his fingers doing something unconnected to his mind, entertainment that had no meaning or bearing. He supposed that if she was here, she was looking for some kind of conversation and he’d have to be a total dick to just go on playing as if she wasn’t there - that sort of connection was both easy and difficult to find in this place. And Cara had been here longer than he had, and was nicer than him, so he’d play along.

Chase grinned, his directionless playing suddenly very fully and confidently the opening notes of Shallow, just to see her reaction. “I like that one, it’s in my vocal range,” he says. “Both of them are, actually, even if I have to strain a bit on Gaga’s part.” His feet stretched out as he listened and played, stopping abruptly then. “It’s not mine either!” Finally, someone to complain to. “I don’t know what pocket of universe we’re tucked into, and does it feel like a place that would have snow? Yeah, probably. But does it also feel like some boonies type place where it’s sticky and normal? Yes. And that’s what bothers me the most - I came in the summer, I was not prepared to be freezing my ass off. Almost every shirt I have has the sleeves cut off.” He shook his head, as if that was the most disappointing thing about being in Arcadia. “So then what do you do in the meantime, cause I kinda just do this all day.”

[cara-turner]

"don't like being laughed at ? funny — you carry yourself like a town jester...ya know.." she sighed, stretching out the words she spoke. "like a brooding creature wandering about. serving some purpose to bring light, or whatever to the hell we're all enduring." lips pursed, cara paused in wonder if this was why she gravitated towards chase in the house. a small light in the chaos. no expectation held. cara couldn't allow her mind to think about it too long. there was no satisfaction in digging deep. only uncomfortability. clearing her throat, "guess town troubadour works too. all you need is a leotard."

"....yeah, so." upon hearing the notes played. cara's fingers rubbed her temples, lips stumbling. "remember how seconds ago i was just comparing you to light ? that is actually bullshit as it turns out, because you're playing the most nightmarish song to ever enter my ears." lips wanted to stretch, smile, but cara was stubborn and sarcastically dramatic. "god, couldn't go a five minutes without hearing that goddamn song." if she wanted to admit, she would appreciate it in some small form — but cara just couldn't. "might change my mind if you sing gaga's part though. might also need a snack to witness that." fingers slid through silk locks that cara kept just above her shoulders. dull scissors. another nightmare. "tell me about it... haven't taken my heels off even in the snow. they'd have to be pried out of my dead cold hands for a pair of someones ratty boots." that fact kept cara inside for the most part. waiting for the season to pass. whatever it all meant, she wasn't made for this living. — were any of them ? "mm, sort of just prowl around the house." truly. "just listening to others when they think no one is listening. sometimes its embarrassing to witness, sometimes its boring, ...on the rare occasion, its exciting."

[patrick-stewart]

Sarah Snook as Shiv Roy in SUCCESSION | 2.03

[thcmpscns]

Truthfully, Dayn hated that movie. Well done and all that, but he rented it on some streaming service when Joel was out of town one time, and he made him cry so hard he was out of breath. There was something uniquely difficult to stomach for him about someone who was just trying hard to get back to his family. While the circumstances could not be more different from his own life to the film, there were some things he couldn’t stomach in his entertainment. He’s seen every Saw movie, sat through countless slashers and supernaturals - but the second separated families got into it, he had to move on. That’s what seemed to do him in, and he hated it. He felt like a big softie.

“I seem to remember a big campaign over the last few years about like, body positivity, and all that,” he chastised, clicking his tongue in faux disappointment at her words. “And now you're judging me on my exhaustion - so not very twenty-first century of you.” Though it was impossible to say how long anyone had been here by first glance alone, the way she spoke and carried herself had something of a cadence of the modern, as in within the last five years or so. He still might have been new here, but he didn’t like to ask. He hadn’t been gone very long and didn’t want to be reminded of his short stint, why would anyone else? “That’s not even me, I have no hand in making that shit,” he said, his grimace obvious at how difficult it looked for her to swallow down. “You couldn’t pay me to drink that, but each their own.”

[cara-turner]

END THREAD.