who are you looking for ?

&. just go out into the falling snow, just go towards the light in the skylight, just go past the trucks on the service road, just go until you feel different.

[diabhales]

filed under: doherty, terry.

         before dropping dead, terry wouldn’t have imagined staying in a dead-end job like this. the hard labor and ridiculous hours alone would have probably had him out of there six months in… but there was something calming about the mindlessness of it all, now. just him and his shovel, and the idea that someone — both like and unlike him — would be filling this gap in the earth. and maybe, fate be unkind, he would have to dig them up again, later on. for now, he doesn’t think about it. doesn’t think about much of anything, his only focus on dirt he’s steadily piling up behind him. at least until fate pulls him in another direction, toward the sound of a voice he doesn’t really recognize. ❝ wha? ❞ he starts, eloquent as always, head swinging around to catch sight of the source of the noise. people don’t usually visit this place, much. he can’t help but be surprised. ❝ oh, uh… thanks, i think. s’not mine, though. don’t actually know who’s it’ll be. ❞ without really thinking about it, terry drops his shovel to scratch at his head. ❝ err, is that why you’re here? ❞

   Teddy flounders for a moment, unsure how to respond. Is that why you’re here ? He can’t exactly specify the motivations behind his visit, at the risk of sounding absolutely insane. Eyes fixated on the headstone in front of him, and body stiff, it looks as if he’s about to tune Terry out entirely or maybe run away, before he manages to speak:   “   Uh — to c-compliment your grave d-digging ?   ”   He shakes his head.   “   No !   I mean. It’s ... nice. I’ve just been mm-more involved in d-death recently.   ”   Stutter present in even Teddy’s least anxious moments is exacerbated by the nerves of the situation, and the uncertainty over what he’s going to say next. How does he allude to ... two dead guys walk into a graveyard. At least that phrasing was a better way of setting up the joke.   “   Like ... personally.   ”

[diabhales]

filed under: spellman, richmond.

                 richmond is never very social. in fact, he often finds himself avoiding people, as if to minimize all interactions. he was a lonely man, but lonely was what he preferred. he doesn’t know why he’s initiated conversation with the former student ━ maybe it was because, out of all the students he’d had that semester, teddy had been his favorite. always engaged, and a very bright student ━ always asking the exact questions richmond wanted his students to ask.

              “ my apologies, if i startled you. it wasn’t my intention. ” he says with a small smile. not often that he gives one of those out ━ lips, curled in genuine humor and kindness, almost change how he looks completely. stoicism gone, for a moment. “ congratulations are in order, then. are you doing anything in the interim ? ” he quickly realizes that this may end up being a longer conversation than he’d intended, and chicken salad in hand is slowly growing warmer. “ mind if i join you ?  ” he questions, gesturing towards former student’s table. he quickly notices lack of food, and another apology comes quickly. “ oh, you’re working. my apologies, then. ” he steps back, preparing to seat himself at another empty table ━ after all, there are plenty around.

   Well, shit. Now he just feels bad. His own shortcomings — namely, the inability to eat whatever alive-people food was currently being sold in the dining hall — didn’t have to mean both of them sat lonely, right ?  He could do this. He’d have to avoid the whole being dead thing in the future. Maybe Professor Spellman would be good practice.   “   N-No, it’s fine. Sit !   ”   He offers a bright, or maybe closer to polite, smile, scooting his books out of the way.   “   I’m, uh, TA-ing for P-professor Sanchez’s Intro to Education c-c-class. I don’t know if you know her, but she’s a great professor, and all the students are ...   ”  He pauses.   “   Well, it’s a s-s-summer course.   ”   Twirling his pen absently in his fingers and trying to think of a way to veer the conversation off of him, he realises it might have been rude to sing someone else’s praises with another good professor right there.   “   You’re still first though,   ”   He offers, half jokingly, willing his pen to somehow burst in his hand so he could run off to the bathroom and not come back. Not that he needed the bathroom anymore ...   “   You’re t-teaching for summer semester ?   ”

[diabhales]

starter for   ...   @deathwalking​   (   terry doherty   )

   Eden was a small town. Rumors flew, especially when one was about a maybe prosthetic, maybe dead hand poorly attached to a gravedigger’s arm. It sounded like something out of a punchline: a dead guy walks into a graveyard to meet another dead guy, who might not actually be a dead guy, and no one knows the first guy is a dead guy ... OKAY. Maybe it was a terrible joke. But this was, at least to Teddy, no laughing matter. Luckily, peeks at the morgue’s dates and deaths had well equipped him for a grave actually being dug when he arrived at the location of one of Eden’s many cemeteries. That knowledge was one of the privilege of being dead-ish and surrounded by the actual dead, he supposes. He notices the man digging the graves immediately, and walks up to the tombstone next to it in an effort to seem casual, placing a flower he’d picked on the way atop the grave of ... Ethel Miller, 1905-1989. Hopefully his newfound companion wasn’t paying too much attention to who Teddy was fake visiting.   “   Uh,   ”   Speak, Teddy. Politely smile.   “   N-Nice grave.   ”

[diabhales]

filed under: kinney, sawyer.

what theodore larsen offered was FAMILIARITY, and comfort which it naturally included. the two might oftentimes be on different wavelengths but they’d always meet. if not right away then somewhere up the road. even without adjustments made by either party, sawyer kinney and theodore larsen were destined to be together. and with her family disregarded, teddy was the closest thing she had to home.  

            ❛     ‘kay, so what’s next on the list then? got any more supes interesting sights in that noggin’ of yours? like, mount rushmore … or i don’t know, the world’s biggest cheese. or something.      ❜            her words teasing although the sentiment remained. sawyer would go wherever he wanted :   granted she’d get her turn in the driver’s seat. metaphorically, of course.

   He’s going to open his mouth and reject her assertion that he’s lame enough to want to see the world’s biggest cheese, the second of transgressions against Teddy’s coolness in one afternoon ... but he would like to see Mount Rushmore.   “   Yes on Mount Rushmore,   ”    he confirmed, if a little rushed & mumbled in his efforts to move on.   “   I think w-we’re going a little out of the way of that a-and Niagra Falls though, if you want to m-make it all the way to California for your Disney adventure.   ”   He thinks for a minute, trying to map out all the very exciting for Teddy and very boring for Sawyer locations that are, quote, in his noggin — and on the way.   “   Four Corners.   ”   He pauses.   “   It’s the o-only spot in the United States where four states meet. And it’s r-right by the Grand Canyon, so it wouldn’t be out of our way.   ”

[diabhales]

filed under: greer, carson.

she tilts her head to the side, rapidly clicking her pen. “you’re friends with sawyer. it’s ok to think i’m a dick. it makes sense,” a smile graces her features and she shakes her head. “but again, you’re being here stays here. you don’t have to trust me,” she shrugs her shoulders.“

   She’s backed him into a corner, bringing up the specifics of her and Sawyer, and his connection to the latter. He couldn’t exactly act as if he’s never heard or thought a single negative thing about Carson Greer. But it’s not as if he hates her ... though Teddy is smart enough to know saying that out loud will probably bring very little in the way of solace to Carson, or worth to the conversation.   “   I d-don’t think you’d say anything,   ”   He assures her, as firmly as he can muster. Which, considering the fact of who he is, isn’t very firmly. There’s a quiet pause, and while he doesn’t have seemed to really relax ... there’s at least a little difference.   “   ... how have you b-b-been ?   ”   Has he already asked that? 

[diabhales]

filed under: daye, dominic.

“you will NOT believe how comfortable it is in here. granted i was very intoxicated when i crawled in here, but even when i woke, it was still comfy.” dominic went on as the other stood there. “must say, the food service here sucks.” spitting out half the bagel, he cracked his neck. “i might still be drunk.” there’s a loose nod, as he stumbles slightly. “um… who are you?”

    Journalism was hard work, especially when you weren’t actually a journalist. Hayden’s most recent mission — capturing Eden at dawn, day and dusk, comparative photoshoots of carefully framed alleyways, fields, and historic buildings — was supposed to capture the spirit of a town, a hopeful submission for an online My Hometown photojournalism contest. Instead: she’s currently being talked to by someone from inside a dumpster ... which might be very Eden indeed. She’s quiet as he speaks, making mental notes to write down exact quotes once she has her notepad out. This could be used for ... something. She’d figure it out later, but it’s certainly more interesting than town hall at sunrise. Or, where she is now, by a dumpster at ... twelve past noon.   “   You smell bad,   ”   She informs him, matter of factly, before lifting up her camera and snapping a picture. Probably because of the dumpster, is only added in her head.    “  Who are you ?   ”

[diabhales]

filed under: SPELLMAN, RICHMOND.

            starter for @diabhales​.

               teaching summer courses has never been his favorite thing. college students who want nothing more than to be sitting on a beach have no use to him in a classroom setting. they never absorb the information given to them, instead letting in float in one ear and out the other. this is obvious from the papers he’s grading ━ a child psychology class’ attempt at explaining childhood ptsd to him. he thinks some of these students just googled it, or took the info off of some other internet site. 

                 he sighs, pushing glasses up his nose and placing the paper he’s currently reading back on his desk. he needs a break. or maybe, more dedicated students. maybe both. he’s just grateful he’s not teaching demonology during the summer ━ he’s sure he’d have a kid telling him all about the demons he’s run into. or intro to religion, where he’d have some reverend’s kid telling him no, actually about some biblical text. at least psych students are fairly easy to deal with.

               he stands, grabbing keys to his office and locking the door as he leaves, headed towards the dining hall. there’s a slight breeze ━ unusual in louisiana in late june. but it’s nice, and he’s thankful for the fact that he’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. the air conditioning unit in his office has been broken for a week, and apparently everyone’s just been ‘ too busy ’ to come by and fix it.

               he pushes the set of glass doors open, stepping inside the nicely air-conditioned student center, and makes his way to the dining hall. he doesn’t eat there often ━ the prospect of running into students usually dissuades him ━ but it’s summer, and he’d heard a rumor that chicken salad was on the menu. so he nods a the teen swiping ids, hands her a five, and walks towards the line. 

              he’s standing in silence while he waits when he sees a familiar face walking in his direction. an easy nod at the former student is all he intends, but then he finds himself wanting to ask about grad school, and thus he does. “ teddy ! how are classes ? grad school treating you well ? ”

summer had never been teddy’s priority. even when he was much younger: while most kids counted down until the days of sun burning your back and ice cream dripping down your chin, teddy’s routine hardly changed, except more boredom was added into the mix. with all the most academic of extracurriculars suspended from june ‘till august — chemistry club in elementary school, student council in middle school, both once he was in eden in the tail end of high school, among many others — he spent most of his time bored & alone. now he had sawyer at least, though his activity options were now severely limited again by ... well, his anxieties surrounding being dead. 

so being a teaching assistant it was. bachelor’s under his belt and professors liking the fact that he was consistently   (   arguably, anal-retentively   )   on time and serious about his work, it was easy enough to get a job for the first-half of the summer semester. not half bad for a stipend and unlimited dining swipes. and credit, not that he needed it — full course load might as well be teddy’s middle name. it’s the second benefit that sits him where he is now. he can’t eat still, at least not food — though he’s been starving to the point of discomfort for days now. being around it is rough, the aroma of things he used to enjoy having seemingly taunting him. but it is the quietest building, the once rowdy noises of mealtimes at summer considerably quiet under the hum of summer heat — at least compared to the student center, still holding plenty of events. 

he’s shocked up from a paper he’s looking through by a familiar voice, and his stomach, still rumbling, sinks. it’s not that he doesn’t like professor spellman — in fact, he was one of teddy’s favorites ... but he is sitting silently in a dining hall with no food in front of him, in the middle of the summer. though explanation is quick — i’m working, true. i’m not hungry and am very much still alive, lie — it still ties a knot in his stomach.   “   oh ! uh — hi p-professor. school’s ... g-going great.   ”    fingers move to fiddle with red pen.   “   i’m sh-shadowing at the high school. or ... was. they j-just let out for summer.   ”

[diabhales]

filed under: KINNEY, SAWYER.

spontaneity clashes meticulousness, and not in this relation alone. sawyer wrestles with making room for both traits every day —— but with teddy larsen in the mix, caution tends to be thrown to the wind. as if his extreme lean forces one of her own. like magnets of the same side thrust together.   “   we don’t need to map out every turn, teddy ! that’s what makes road trips so much fun … you never know what’ll happen along the way.   „    a sentiment much less likely to be held in the presence of, say, her sister.   “   but … if it makes you feel more at ease—   „   sawyer adds, making moves towards an empty desk. only returning to her original spot when pen and paper have been located.   “   —we could write down some maybe’s. like, a vague outline.   „ 

teddy might not be boring, but ... okay, well, maybe teddy was boring. not through any fault of personalty: once he was on one of the adventures sawyer seemed inclined to drag him on when dylan was unavailable for antics he wouldn’t approve of — he did have fun. but years of bullying in his elementary years, and a healthy combination of that and being entirely ignored throughout teenage ones hadn’t given him the best sense of adolescent caution-meet-wind. nights spent watching movies with his mom or sawyer had made teddy a little less prone to anything remotely adventurous, and he didn’t mind that.    “   you know m-me so well,   ”   he beamed, shifting to get a better look at sawyer’s paper. ignoring sawyer’s sentiments of outline remaining vague,  he rubbed his hands together in preparation, despite NOT being the one actually writing anything down.  “   we, uh, c-can make a ranked list. of all the p-places we want to go. so we know priority.   ”   he pauses, trying to take sawyer’s wants into account, tone tentative.   “   ...   a loose p-priority.   ”

[diabhales]

doherty, terrance.

         ❝ hate t’bother you, really, ❞ he starts, sidling up next to the person in question; ❝ but i dropped something of mine and you’re ‘bout to step on it. ❞ offering a sheepish smile, terry, gestures lamely to the joke of a hand he’s got making a place for itself on the floor. embarrassing, really. ❝ would y’mind grabbing it for me? ❞

   She’s late on getting groceries for the house again — though Connie really doesn’t understand why her children can’t do it themselves. Two cars she’d purchased for them taking up space in the driveway — hers now in the parking lot with a hot pizza in the backseat, a sorry excuse for being late for dinner. Again. She’s only come into Eden’s Grocery for some bottles of soda, an apology Orange Crush that seemed to be a family favorite with everyone but her — the sacrifices you made as a mother. She’s still only interested in the soda selection ... until her interest is piqued by a hand on the floor.   “   How long ago did you lose that ?   ”   She asks, bending over to pick it up and carefully noting signs of decay. She makes no move to give it back, however, opting to turn it over in her own hands for a better look. 

[diabhales]

dachrey, ryder.

Run and hide, it’s gonna be bad tonight. ‘cause here comes your Devil’s Side. “It’s gonna ruin me.” His attempt to sing along to the song was ever so marginally muffled due to the fact he had a screw jammed between his lips, and he was doing his damnedest right then to ensure he didn’t accidentally run his tongue over the sharpened edge which was dangerously close to the muscle. He wasn’t afraid of hurting himself, it would only be a little scratch at the most. No, the thing Ryder was trying to avoid was the metallic taste which he knew would be made worse on account of his heightened senses. He already had an issue with the way things tasted, hating how it lingered long after the offending cause had been removed from the situation. The last thing he needed was to be walking around the garage periodically making stupid faces and licking his lips like he’d just seen a deer in the woods while he was shifted and on a hunt. It would only invite questions, and by the gods he wasn’t prepared for the ribbing which he knew would be coming his way. The mimicking of his actions by his colleagues, even in jest it would be annoying to no end.

Two hours. He only had two hours left of his shift and then he was homeward bound. Homeward bound to a silent apartment until he watched Peaky Blinders for the sixth time. Seventh, maybe. He was obsessed. He loved the accent, the depiction of the time, and of course the leader actor was very easy on the eyes as well. Nobody could deny that. Well, they could. It was all about taste and preference, and the guy was definitely exactly to Ryder’s taste. Spitting the screw into his palm, he tucked it into the pocket of his overalls so he could, instead, reach for the now cold mug of coffee just waiting for him to take a sip of. “Ooh, that’s nasty.” He remarked to no-one in particular, though he took another mouthful of his drink anyway. He loved coffee as it came when it was hot, but when it cooled and became bitter he could barely stomach it. But… coffee is coffee, right? Setting the mug back down onto the counter, he afforded himself a moment to look at the car he was finishing work on. Beautiful ride, he could only surmise it belonged to someone who wanted to make a statement to the world.

   Sienna Kinney was not only a bad driver — she was a procrastinator. Gas tank only filled when tank was running on fumes, bumps and dents gone unfixed, a little smoke or flickering light or, most dangerously, break issues never hurt anybody. Well ... maybe the break issues would now. She rolls up, in a very literal sense, to the garage, engine of the car chugging along ... before stopping a little short of projected parking area and hopping out of the car to — of all things — run in front of it. Body with hands out gently stops the slow rolling vehicle, something done in practice less often than she’d like to admit, stop signs on the way over largely ignored.   “   Sick car,   ”   She interrupted, drumming her fingers atop the hood of her own car, a white that had seen better days.   “   But ... I’m the pretty proud owner of this 2010 Jeep Wrangler that I think might require some more attention.   ”    She’s grateful they’re on level enough ground to stop the roll, but she doesn’t want to step away quite yet. 

[diabhales]

holstad, lou.

        ‘   i wasn’t going to make that speech.    ’ he retorts, crossing his arms over his chest to protect the heart he’s pieced messily back together again with time and krazy glue. ‘   what’s with the violence ? jesus.    ’ any sharpness is dulled by exasperation, the fatigue that always drapes over his tone like a heavy shawl. at one point he was intimidated by sienna, a pressure to impress for sawyer’s sake, but sienna doesn’t get that anymore. doesn’t get good guy lou who picks himself out of bed and puts on a smile for the girl he loves. no, this right now, the snideness and the petulant remarks, that’s more truthful to himself, more up his alley. ‘   it’s obviously not my phone.   ’ and he has to bite back a comment about her being absolutely daft to think that. however, while he believes she’s more bark than bite he’d rather not be nursing a fist to the face when all he wants to do is go home and suffocate himself with the duvet cover. ‘   alright. guess we’re going inside then. i need to know what the fuck that buzzing’s so loud for.   ’ his hands drop to his pockets, a cover for the fidgeting, the edge of his nails trailing over his cuticle, over and over like the tick of a metronome. he’s not scared. he wants to go home. 

   “ ... Dude, relax.   ”   She’s already pissed off — not at Lou’s presence, not really. He’s like a mosquito buzzing by her ear as she gets her car totaled in front of her on her birthday. The more pressing issue: the fact that she’s trying to sleep, or at least get drunk in her bed while watching a 90 Day Fiancé marathon until she passes out — and there’s a stupid fucking BUZZING. And if it wasn’t Lou, the blame game that she’d love to play and shift onto him is going to have to stop. At least momentarily.   “   It’s not inside, I was just inside,   ”   She tells him, exasperated. A step is taken towards the alley that separates the thrift store from the business directly next to it, and as she moves forward – the buzzing grows louder. Not due to proximity, but to both of  their ears: an obvious increase in volume.   “   Is this some dumb prank ?   ”   She asked him, though tone seemed, for the first time more hopefully accusatory than annoyed before it was drowned out entirely by the noise. 

[diabhales]

bradford, nathaniel.

It is the kind of nights he finds pathetic, where he just knows Eden was a dead-end with no escapes. So he tries to think about other things, drinking a little too much and meeting strangers he will probably never see again. He has noticed her, but she is not exactly the only solo girl in the bar that night. Nate much prefers for women to come to him. Worst come to worst, he could always give a look or two but it was rare that on the nights he wanted company he ended up going home alone. He looks at her with a hint of a smirk painted on his lips, shifting to a stool nearer, one left separating them. “I know I look the part, but I usually come here for the drinks. What about you? Are you going to surprise me with some -ew- Eminem?” He calls the waiter before she can answer. “I’ll have another beer, and - what’s your name ? -” he turns to the brunette, quickly  interupting himself before continuing “- well her next drink’s on me.” 

   Emma is nowhere near quiet or shy, so conversations like this should be easy — but she can be a little oblivious. Rarely, if ever the instigator of fliration when she’s out on the town, differentiating between friendly banter and conversation and someone making an attempt to pick her up is not a skill she’s necessarily adept at. Maybe someone with a less rose-tinted outlook on the world would realize ANY conversation with a man in a bar probably is the latter, and fun conversation is reserved for elsewhere. But today, at least, she’s a woman on a mission — the intent of putting herself out there. Wherever there even was.   “   Oh yeah, big fan of Slim Shady,   ”   She confirms, though Emma was fairly certain she would not be able to name any songs of his that didn’t come out of 2002.   “   I should have you order for me if you’re that good at guessing.   ”   A momentary pause before turning to the bartender and asking cheerily for a cosmo. Then, with a bright smile and a slight turn towards him, she sticks out her hand for a shake — a little more business meeting than casual bar conversation.   “   Emma.   ”

[diabhales]

redfield, angelina.

“ hmm .. the longer i look at him , the more he looks like an MC hopper to me .. ” the expression on her face couldn’t have gotten more delighted as she curiously inspects the tiny green frog inside its plastic aquarium , rosy cheeks still smudged with dried out mud from her visit to the local marshes earlier on . “ heh , he’s got that 2 legit 2 quit face .. d’you see it ? — aw , look .. he’s croaking ! ” a smile cracks almost instantaneously as she decidedly brings the plastic box up to their eye level , bright blue orbs shifting from the funny little amphibian to the person on the other side of the transparent box . “ what do you think i should name him ? ” 

   Hayden was willing to get messy, most of the time, to do what she thought needed to be done. Climbing over fences and getting a little muddy, a tear in her jeans here and there ... but purposefully digging for frogs was a little out of her perfectly cleanly wheelhouse.   “   You should name him Toad,   ”   She answers honestly, voice almost monotone, as she studies the frog through narrowed eyes and curled lip. He was kind of cute, but considering the amount of grime still present on Nina’s pink cheeks it took to get to him ...  ew. Remind her to invest in better rain boots if she ever had to go marsh diving for an one of her very unofficial investigations.   “   It’ll confuse people.   ”

[diabhales]

evans, lilith.

“good.” she urges on, hoping for him to continue. but knowing that was all he would be saying. she places a soft smile on her face, for his benefit of course. anything to butter him up a little. “dreadfully dull.” looking up, the witch throws him a quick wink. their hands reaching out for a small thin brush and adding shit brown to it. “and.. how are you sleeping?” she questioned slowly, eyes quickly glancing at him before returning back to the paper. sometimes it helped to distract the patients when asking questions as such, no eyes burning into theirs. trying to flay them alive. no, teddy needed a little distraction. 

   He’s not sleeping. Existing as both a triumph and a fault of ... well, being dead. Physical exhaustion doesn’t affect him ... but the mental block of not being able to sleep at night and get an emotional reset has been difficult to reckon with. Already plagued with the anxious trait of having thoughts run a mile a minute at all times, having it twenty-four hours a day has made things a little difficult.   “   Uh,   ”   He presses the paintbrush gently down onto the sheet, a tiny blue stripe across plain white canvas.   “   Not w-well, really. I guess it ... I, uh ...   ”   Another smaller blue stripe beneath it. He doesn’t bother to look towards Lilith as he mumbles out an answer.   “   It’s j-just been h...hard to.   ”

[diabhales]

ROSILIO, odette.

odette was used to being the worst—a monster among men, a wolf removed from its pack and found amongst the sheep—and the only place depriving her of this comfort, had been eden. yet the confidence, grandeur and arrogance persists.   “   gladly.   „   desert communities had been avoided for a reason. if she wasn’t alone in HER EXISTENCE : if boogiemen, ghosts, and ghouls, were all walking this earth —— then odette knew what to assume of those above it. she was not looking to get probed.   “   you done stalling, or can we go tell a homeless man to get fucked ?   „   a latch shut, awaiting her push, below : she does what sienna is accused of.

   Sienna watched as Odette looked towards the attic’s exit, rolling her eyes as she reached out for one of the clubs — a driver, the fabric coating in forms her, with a thin coat of grey dust atop it that she quickly takes off to expose metal head.    “ Let’s verbally abuse some homeless people, then,  ”   Sienna mumbles, and though she debates waiting for Odette to finally open the hatch, or cowering ... at risk of being considered a pussy by complete stranger, she moves forward. One slide of the latch to the side, and the ladder unfolds beneath them with a tiny push. One step onto top rung, and her palms feel a little sweaty: by the time she makes it to the bottom, looking up for Odette to follow, there is a sinking feeling deep in her stomach. 

[diabhales]

ROSILIO, odette.

a murmured   “   i like to drink alone.   „   against her glass, odette watches, bemused, as her friend goes on her spiel. how so many perceived her of an extroverted nature, dependent on the existence of others, she’d never know. and for the time being, she did not care. for a puzzled expression turns into one more amused — an emotion which ERUPTS, making wine near spilled and a belly aching. WHAT IS LAUGHABLE … it is not the assumption that without emma she’d be a lost cause. it wasn’t even the fact that the man described fit a certain someone to a t. no, what brought a hearty laughter out of odette rosilio — was the implication that she was singlehandedly disrupting emma’s romantic pursuits. once, maybe. forever, no.   “   if it’s my approval you want … you’ve got it !   „   she retorts.   “   so, go ahead ! the bar’s still open … go get yourself a tall, ripped, funny doctor-man … and i’ll stay right here and finish the movie you’ve so rudely been talking over.   „  

   So Odette had called her bluff. Not on their bond of friendship potentially suffering a break — one that would be detrimental to Odette — if Emma managed to find a boyfriend. This was, however untrue to Odette, more of a self-projected situation if any: Emma being the one counting the days until another potential bachelor waltzed into Odette’s life, this time making it to the altar. And then, of course, the vicarious living through that came early in the stages of a relationship and the wedding planning would ... crash down, and she would be left single and alone. Maybe she should force herself to become a cat person now, while she still has time.   “   I don’t need your approval, Odette, I am a grown woman.   ”   A fact which clearly didn’t negate that she wanted Odette’s approval. Emma’s closest companion was, perhaps, the coolest person she knew. At least to Emma’s very limited standards of coolness  (  factors: didn’t care what men thought, preferred hard liquor to anything mixed, wore leather without feeling like a fraud.  )   “   But ... I don’t have the right makeup or clothes or anything, so it’s probably better if I stay here, and finish Ferris Bueller.   ”   The last half of her sentence jumbles together as glass is lifted back to her mouth, embarrassed at her own retracted audacity. 

[diabhales]

KINNEY, sawyer.

exasperation taking hold, sawyer regrets every word spoken thus far. striking sensitive nerves had been unintentional, and without malice, but fault isn’t quite placed in her court yet. this was an overreaction: one of epic proportions. it was just star wars.   “   —— i’m sorry !   „   she shrieks, making an effort to extinguish the blazing flames of sci-fi discourse.   “   okay ? you can be han solo.   „   a fact she didn’t think needed to be spoken aloud. he could be whatever he wanted, and sawyer possessed litttle incentive to stop him. they were his interests, not hers. but as a momentary silence settles between them, sawyer’s need for added commentary does as well. this was ridiculous. he had to know it was.   “   … but only ‘cause you’re sooooo cool.   „   she muses, a wide smile plastered across. 

   Teddy wonders if it was a very Han thing to do to wear down Sawyer into admitting he could be cool if he wanted to be — but her already knows the very depressing answer.  “   Thank you for ad-admitting it,   ”  he mumbles, eyebrows raised, tying his very best to sound annoyed before smiling back at her, unable to resist against the ridiculousness of the conversation.   “   So we have ... a lot of landmarks, and D-Disneyland. That doesn’t sound like a very detailed p-plan or itinerary to m... me.   ”   It was riskier to ask about putting the idea to fruition, summer plans quickly losing their potential of being forgotten. It might be unrealistic, but Sawyer was nothing if not determined and stubborn, and Teddy was nothing if not extremely likely to say yes to anything anyone in his limited social circle asked of him.