figure moves to beat of rowdy tunes , ballpoint pen cluthced in grasp coming in handy on rare occasion & still much too oblivious to opposite seeking own attention . cross legged stature with soles barely missing worn out chair shifts in casual manner within seconds of other’s gesture , removing headphones without ever pausing music . ❛ libraries are only supposed to be quiet enough that she doesn’t have a reason to kick you out . trust me , i’ve had my fair share of rows with the old hag , i know her limits . ❜ words roll off tongue sans effort , silhouette leaning forward across shared table & manicured tips pointing at librarian shooting a glare or two every half an hour .
❛ besides , i’m actually doing you a favor . kinda looks like you’ve thought enough for a whole week . ❜ dark hues widen in melodramatic fashion at mere sight of femme’s progress throughout evening so far , arms folding over chest & arched spine falling back against seat . ❛ doesn’t matter , i was about to head out for a drink anyway . ❜ shoulders shrug , gaze now fixated on student sat before self . ❛ you’re welcome to join , encouraged even . just think of it as a well deserved break . ❜ brows wiggle eagerly , already in process of gathering scattered belongings .
{ - }
Who rowed with the librarian? Where was the need? Keira was visibly perturbed by the thought, and her head whipped around to check the lady in question wasn’t still listening in. “Her limits?” she echoed, her voice still hushed just in case. “...What the hell did you do to her?” she asked, a little warily. It sounded a lot more sinister than it probably actually was, but even talking back to the university’s staff seemed like a grave risk to Keira. “--Whatever it is, it’s not getting kicked out that I’m worried about.”
Annoyingly, she had a point. She’d been at it for hours, and she’d gotten to that point where her handwriting was near incomprehensible, like a true doctor in the making. Even if it was a sign she was on track for her calling, it wasn’t exactly helpful for her to study from later. The offer was a curious one, and Keira bit her lip, her fingertip tracing over the last sentence she’d jotted down illegibly. “A drink-- where?” she asked, one eyebrow curiously arched as her fingers moved, curling slightly around the cover of her notebook, as though she might actually be about to close it. A shocking twist, for her.
the breeze was a cold one, but nothing she wasn’t used to coming from new york. holding up the camera, the female decided to film the cliffside but made sure that if she moved, she didn’t get that close. if you were to ask maya if she was into filming, she could only give you an honest shrug. to tell the truth, she probably wouldn’t have went into university as a ‘film major’ had things gone down differently on that one day, so she saw this as her back-up plan which can sometimes be fun and sometimes be one hell of a chore. at least she’d have it should she ever become brave enough to be a youtuber or film something for one of her friends.
the power of technology was simply amazing. quickly pressing the red button, she stopped recording. “ no, it’s alright. ” she smiled, her voice quiet as she spoke. her smile somewhat faltered as he mentioned where the preferred filming spot of the day was: by the edge. so much for not wanting to fall in. “ oh uh… i guess. i-i’m lowkey scared i’m going to fall into the water. ” she admitted. “ i imagine the rocks are pretty slippery and i can’t trust myself to go get a shot without slipping. ”
{ - }
Eddy clicked their tongue - her concerns were definitely warranted. Their own tactic for getting their shots was pretty strongly advised against by most of the signs in the area, but they’d never really let the danger of the whole thing soak in. “They are a little slippery,” he conceded, glancing back over the edge with a slow nod. Standing up there felt a lot less stable, particularly with the winds billowing, and so he took a few careful steps away from the brink. “I don’t usually walk on them much. It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s way more steady to just lay down…”
With another glance down, this time at his shirt, he let out a wry chuckle. The rocks were a little wet from the bad weather, and so the front of his shirt was unfortunately stained. “It, uh… Pays to be prepared for that, though,” he added, letting out a sigh before shrugging off his jacket. “You can borrow this, if you want. To lie on, I mean. If you feel like taking a little bit of a risk…?”
— location: over the streets in front of a bar
— date and time: a night over the weekend
— availability: open | @portbriarstarters
“Ah, listen… You’re not gonna be mad at me, are you? It’s just one night over at a karaoke bar, give me the chance to sing All I Want For Christmas Is You and make Mariah Carey proud,” there it was. His famous ‘puppy eyes’ while flashing a bright smile at the person next to him. “I promise you next time you’ll choose where we’re heading to,” Dario just wanted to find excuses to head to a karaoke, and whenever he had the chance he’d definitely drag friends along. It was the closest to just doing what he loved while not having any pressure while doing so. Besides, there was something marvelous about watching drunk people singing songs they rarely listen to on a daily basis. “Are you afraid I’m going to trick you into singing something you don’t want to?”
{ - }
“Are you kidding me? Mad?” Eddy scoffed, rubbing his hands together with obvious mischievous intent. “I’d be mad if I didn’t get to see this.” It was one thing to overhear his roommate singing in the shower, and a very different one to see him perform on stage. Eddy hadn’t realised they’d been looking forward to such a thing until they were stood right there outside of the bar, ready and waiting. “As long as I don’t have to do any Christmas songs, I’m all good. Consider that you’re final warning,” he insisted with an arch of his eyebrow, half-joking.
The rain was calming, in Lucia’s mind. Even the rougher storms left her feeling cozy, especially with the ovens on behind her, keeping the storefront of Māma’s nice and toasty. It had been chilly all day, but all of a sudden the heavens had opened, the winds had whipped themselves into a frenzy, and Lucia was glad she had kept herself busy inside for most of the day. However, it seemed not everybody could be so lucky.
She was in the middle of arranging her display of egg custard tarts when the bell above the door jingled, signalling the arrival of a rather unfortunate soul. Immediately she straightened up from behind the counter, her jaw dropping at the sight of her latest patron without so much as a coat insight, and no umbrella to be spoken of. “Oh my goodness, you’re soaked!” she gasped, immediately rounding the counter. She pulled out a chair from the seating area, and set it back down next to the nearest radiator. “Here, please, take a seat… I ought to grab you a towel. --Are you alright?”
Under the cut is a list of potential plot ideas you might want to fill! If we're plotting currently, or you're seeing these after we've already decided some connections, feel free to reach out and ask about one of these too! Alternatively, if any of these take your interest, give this post a like and I'll come to you!
WANTED CONNECTION! Ex [0/1] - For a few years before her move to Port Briar, Lucia lived in LA, and enjoyed a long, serious relationship with a partner who abruptly left for reasons she is yet to understand. There are more details in her introduction, but if you’re interested in an exes connection, please feel free to contact me either here or on Discord!
Customers [0/?] - Māma’s is a bakery filled to the brim with exquisite treats, from a range of cultures around the world. Whether it’s a regular visit, or a more occasional act of self-indulgence, Lucia prides herself on giving her customers a delicious, personal, and warm experience every time they happen to visit. They’ll also cater for events if need be, so don’t be shy to ask!
Staff [0/2] - While Māma’s is primarily a family-run business, Lucia doesn’t exactly want to run her poor grandparents off their feet! Anybody needing a little extra part-time work should enquire within - the pay is decent, and hey, you’re unlikely to find a better smelling workplace!
Fans [0/?] - Lucia wouldn’t exactly consider herself a star-studded celebrity, but after multiple appearances on TV, her own show, and a small collection of cookbooks, she’s made somewhat of a name for herself. She’s always happy to discuss her craft with people who recognise her for it, even if not all of those days hold fond memories.
Friends [0/?] - Lucia hasn’t been in town for a long time, but she’s the type to make an effort to get to know her neighbours and participate in community events. If you think there’s a chance they would have met, she’s the type to get along with almost anyone!
Crushes [0/?] - It’s been a while since Lucia’s heartbreak, and while she still feels the aches and pains, the heart wants what it wants, especially one as active as hers. She’s quick to fall when her guard is down. It’s still up for now - but she can’t help feeling the occasional flutter in her chest, even with walls in place…
Dates-to-friends [0/?] - Lucia isn’t the hookup type, but since her arrival, she’s likely to have put herself out there a couple of times. Even if there weren’t sparks flying, there’s no reason the date can’t be fun. When she says “just be friends,” Lucia means it - she doesn’t like to let people go easily.
Dating [0/1] - Sometimes, dates do go well. Sparks, butterflies, the works - even if she’s hesitant, there’s no reason why Lucia can’t explore these things slowly, right?
｢ GEMMA CHAN, CIS FEMALE, 35, SHE/HER ｣ ⟨ ✽ ⟩ hey, you haven’t bumped into Lucia Yu lately, have you? they have been living here for the past 6 months and during that time, locals have gotten to know them as generous & dedicated. a little birdie told me they can be quite naive & neurotic though. explains why they’re a baker. they really remind me of the smell of freshly baked bread, dinner by candlelight, and warm hugs. if you’re ever looking for them, i bet you can find them around Māma’s.
further information under the cut;
[TWs: undetailed discussion of an accident, death, and grief]
- Lucia was born in a small flat in Southend-on-Sea, and named for the island country where her parents found love. Hau Lin Yu and Miles Haywood happened to meet at a resort - she was there on a volunteer project, while he was there for a wedding - and never quite forgot each other. For years after what they both thought would be a brief, fondly-remembered fling, they exchanged letters and parcels, until they eventually realised they couldn’t be without one another. After one trip together in England, and then another in China, Miles returned home and mailed off an engagement ring the same day he returned.
- Love was all Lucia knew in her infancy. Her parents were unendingly besotted with one another, and although her father’s parents hadn’t taken so kindly to the union, Lucia’s maternal grandparents fawned over her from a distance. Money was often tight; her mother was a schoolteacher, while her father was a postman, but rarely did anything feel missing in Lucia’s early years. She was a gregarious little girl, friendly to all and enthused by the world around her, with her loving parents encouraging and shielding her all the while.
- Food was at the heart of their household. Lucia first learned to cook alongside her dad, who often finished work far earlier than her mum. He would sit her on the counter and let her be his little helper, passing ingredients and utensils, narrating everything as he went until the meal was done, and they could all enjoy it together. The kitchen was a place to share yourself with others, he would tell her - the route to the heart would always lead through the stomach. On weekends, her mother would still wake up early, and together they’d make breakfast - pancakes in silly shapes that they’d decorate together, bacon and egg smiles, the works. Preparing food was not only to show your love to others, but to yourself. There was no greater act of self-nurturing than preparing a meal or a treat to enjoy. Baking came next, mostly at the behest of her grandmother, who often mailed over packages of delicious Chinese treats rarely found on the coast of England.
- Lucia’s experiences in school were a mixed bag. Friends came and went, often fighting over petty things like borrowed toys and losing games, which left her in the lurch - conflict of that sort was new to her. Her family couldn’t afford all the latest gadgets and crazes, and so there were moments where she felt a bit left out, but her kind and outgoing ways won over most people in the end. The occasional class bully would pull her hair and call her names, but she had friends to fall back on and a family who soothed all woes - what more could she want?
- ...Well, kinder teachers, perhaps. It took a grand total of 15 years for anybody to realise that Lucia was dyslexic. Up until then, she’d heard the same things over and over - she needed to try harder, she just had to apply herself, maybe if she talked a little less in class and raised her hand a little more, she wouldn’t be so stupid. The diagnosis almost felt like too little too late; sure, she’d get extra time for her GCSEs, but her confidence in her own intelligence wouldn’t be so simply won back.
- Still, Lucia spent those formative years growing and learning, in and outside of the British education system. The most significant milestone of which was her first visit to her grandparents in Yantai, China. Her Mandarin was shaky at that point, but her family were warm and welcoming. Her grandfather worked on the docks and knew the town inside and out; immediately, she was the apple of his eye, and all of his fellow retired fishermen knew it. Going out in one of the old boats was a particular highlight - one they’d promised to keep a secret for the rest of their days, lest her grandmother had a fit on finding out. Her grandmother was absolutely the head of their household, but she led it with love first, something she had clearly passed down through the generations. The recipes, however, might have skipped one. Lucia’s mother wasn’t much of a baker, but her grandmother was, and they spent a large part of their visit together in the kitchen. Lucia was a natural, apparently - she had a patient, delicate touch, and plenty of treats to take home with her once all was said and done. Those plane tickets were expensive, but Lucia left with a solemn promise that they’d meet again, as soon as they had the means between them.
- When they returned home, Lucia’s mother decided baking would be a weekly tradition, since her daughter took such a shine to it. Being in the kitchen together became all the more sacred; now, it tied Lucia to her heritage as well. Lucia’s family had grown, their connections had deepened, and everything else felt secondary.
- Baking went from a weekly tradition, to a way of life. First it was the occasional school fundraising event, next it was friend’s birthday cakes, next it was their parents offering money for cakes of their own for parties and the like, then neighbours, until she was almost overrun. Her mum would help - although by that point, her involvement stopped at pitching ideas for decorations, and helping with the dishes afterwards. Her father, proud as ever, snuck supplies home from work to help with deliveries, and Lucia knew what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.
- Academics had always been a bit of a struggle for Lucia as a result of her dyslexia, but that wasn’t so much of a deciding factor for culinary school. The day her acceptance letter from Le Cordon Bleu London arrived was a whirlwind, filled with celebration and joy, long phonecalls with her grandparents and, for the first time in a long time, a cake she didn’t have to make. Her mother had been practicing, apparently - sneaking in attempts here and there, until she finally managed to make a cake of her own. Lucia took a photo of it, one she framed and hung up in her new student accommodation with teary eyes, after a watery farewell from her family. It was the first time she’d ever been away from them, and although the programme was only meant to take 9 months, she knew she’d spend it with a heavy heart.
- Things grew heavier still when, one Tuesday evening, her weekly call home wasn’t answered. Her friends told her it was probably nothing, they were just caught up somewhere, she should just join them for dinner and forget about it - but she knew something wasn’t right. Her fears held true, and finally at two in the morning, one of her phonecalls received an answer. There was an accident, her father told her, through words he could barely string together; her mother hadn’t made it. The only consolation they had was that the paramedics suspected it had been quick for her.
- Despite a wealth of encouragement and support, finishing the programme was just too much. Her father welcomed her home with as much joy as he could muster for somebody suddenly without his soulmate for the first time in years, and together, the two tried to figure out where they fit in the world without its centre. Most of Lucia’s days for the following month involved waking up, making sure her father ate, and crawling back into bed with no further sense of how to go on.
- The funeral was full of friends and family, including Lucia’s grandparents. Being with them felt like home again - and for the first time in a long time, Lucia felt warm in their arms. She felt loved, cared for, like she hadn’t lost everything - and it seemed she and her father did the same for them. A week passed with them staying, and then another, and eventually it was decided; they were family. They had to stay. The elders sold their home, pooled together what savings they had, and emigrated for good. It was nice, to have their constant presence around. It took a year for her father to smile like he meant it at all again, but he got there, and they still had each other.
- Eventually, Lucia realised she had to start working - but baking didn’t feel like an option anymore. It would be years until her grandmother managed to convince her to try it again, and in the meantime, her father knew their local post office was looking for more clerks. She started up, and didn’t look back.
- It wasn’t until she came home from work one evening to find her grandmother baking with her mother’s favourite CD playing in the background (an ABBA album, of course,) that Lucia returned to her rightful place. With a gentle goading, and the revelation that her grandmother baked to feel more connected to her family. It wasn’t long until the rest of the family joined in, rolling out pastry and singing the lyrics they knew, until they’d completed a tray of egg custard tarts with candles in their centre. It felt like the right way to celebrate her late mother’s birthday.
- With her passion rekindled and slowly catching alight, Lucia began indulging in her baking as a hobby once more. It was almost the same spiral as before - it started off with the occasional treat she shared with her coworkers, then she was the designated cake-provider for any work celebrations, then for their families and friends… So on and so forth, until everybody around her was raving about it. She didn’t think of pursuing it any further until one day, before she clocked out for the evening, her coworker Linda stuffed a stack of papers in her hands, and told her she wasn’t allowed to leave until it was all filled out. By 6pm that evening Lucia had completed an application for a popular baking TV show, and mailed it in under the assumption she’d never hear from them again.
- But hear from them she did. One very unexpected phone call later, the cameras turned up at her door, ready to collect some B-roll footage of her doing what she did best. That summer, the competition began, and by its end Lucia had a diverse range of lifelong friends, and a trophy she’d keep forever alongside that framed picture of her mum’s homemade cake. Lucia made quite a name for herself during her time on the show too - her habit of humming as she went and getting distracted by helping out her competitors earned her quite a bit of public favour, along with her Chinese twists on British classics, and vice versa. There were upsides and downsides to being a household name throughout the UK - her life story being close to common knowledge, and strangers asking her about her mother was a particularly strange drawback - but the opportunities it presented to her were invaluable. The most tempting of which was the offer of her own show on the Food Network, but she couldn’t possibly leave her family and jet off to the states… Could she?
- They insisted. The anxiety Lucia felt leaving her family behind for the second time in her life was gargantuan, but they wouldn’t hear of her staying behind to take care of them any longer. They had each other, and they’d still have her - her grandparents would figure out videocalls eventually, and they’d be watching every second of her show.
- America was very different to England, or even Yantai, and working on her own show was demonstrably different to competing in the last one. Hair, makeup, scripts, assistants following her around, taking care of her prep work, keeping her on a schedule she didn’t get to make. Hell, they insisted on changing her name - Lucy Yu’s Desserts of the World just had a better ring to it than Lucia did - and she went along with it, keen to live up to her promises. Filming and baking was fine, but everything else felt like a little bit too much. She was lonely too, aside from the few hours she managed to sneak to herself to share with her family, and Lucia found herself longing for something more.
- [WC incoming!] Ever since she was a little girl Lucia wanted to find her soulmate, the same way her mother and father had, and she was convinced she’d achieved that the day she first appeared on a late night talkshow. She’d gone on stage grinning like a giddy schoolgirl, and on more than one occasion during the interview she’d gotten distracted, thinking of them, even though they’d only just met. Her management gave her hell for it later, but she still had their number in her pocket - she sent a text, they set their first date, and the rest was history.
- For three years, Lucia lived in bliss. The first season of her show went over phenomenally, and she secured a contract for two more before it had even finished airing. As a result, she had enough to fly her family over to visit, and to make sure they lived comfortably for the rest of their days. They were proud, she was in love - she missed her mother dearly, but those emotions had a place in her life. Everything had - including the engagement ring she’d taken to carry around in her back pocket.
- She never got to use it. She wasn’t sure what happened - everything had seemed so perfect until they turned around and told her they couldn’t do it anymore. She just wasn’t an option, or something like that; honestly, with her heart pounding in her throat, she could barely piece together the reasons she was given, let alone her heart. She was in the midst of filming the third season at the time, and the following week when the idea of her contract being extended floated her way, she declined. The press were everywhere, swarming her, lapping up her tragedy for clicks and views - Lucia had never known anger quite like it. LA didn’t feel safe anymore, and her heartbreak kept it from feeling like home. Their name was on the lease, and they wouldn’t answer her calls, but she knew she had to move. Once again, Lucia packed up, and decided to focus on the love of her life that she could actually trust: her baking.
- There were properties all over the country she could have chosen, but Port Briar fit just right. The coast reminded her both of Yantai and Southend-on-Sea, the same way it did for her family. The apartment above the property was big enough for them all, and they were perfectly eager to help her launch something of her very own. It was another year in the making, of her and her father flying back and forth to renovate the place, and her grandmother poring over old and new family recipes, but before too long, Māma’s was open for business.
- Māma’s is a quaint, family owned bakery and cafe. Located on Dalry hill t hey serve a mixture of sweet treats from different parts of the globe, with a rotating treat of the week shelf to keep regulars coming back for something new - but their specialties are British and Chinese classics, with a few American favourites sprinkled in for good measure. With a range of delicious desserts for all occasions, and enough hot drinks to soothe all of Port Briar through the winter, Māma’s is slowly cementing itself as a must-visit spot amongst residents and tourists alike.
Akeem couldn’t help but chuckle at the mention of Edith hearing all of those cusswords, and while had had indeed tried to avoid that she’d get in touch with these words under his care, it was sort of a lost battle, considering the amount of times she’d been in the field with him. “I wouldn’t worry much about that.” He chuckled, hand flying to his niece’s hair to caress it gently while the little girl didn’t even raise her dark hues from the smartphone in her hands. “She’s been immersed in this game since she sat down, so I doubt she’s heard anything. And even if she had, this kid has been to every Moose game since she was in her mom’s womb, I doubt it was the first time she’s heard anything like that.”
Someone came to their table, bringing two glasses of water and Akeem placed their orders, before returning his attention after checking the time on his watch. “It’s 2:22–hah, that’s fun. But yeah, 2:22PM. Are you cramming for tests or something?” He then asked, noticing the amount of papers she had on her table.
{ - }
Keira’s expression softened, both in her relief, and the realisation that the kid was pretty cute. She didn’t consider herself the maternal type, but she’d always had a fondness for the kids around her neighbourhood in her later years of high school - even if that inner tenderness only showed through her telling them off for playing too close to the road, or trying to climb power lines and the like. “Oh, I’m glad. I mean, if anything was going to beat me too it… It’d be some kind of sport. I remember that from soccer…” She had a feeling any team with the name Moose would belong to some kind of hockey league - although she considered she might have just been lumping Canadian things together in her head.
She winced at the mention of the time. After checking her pocket, she found that her phone was, indeed, dead - she’d been in her booth for far too long. “Busted,” she said playfully, if only to cover up further embarrassment. “I thought a few cups of coffee would get me through one more evening, but… I guess not,” she realised aloud, with a pout.
Keira really needed to get back on top of her meal prep. She was back in Bluey’s, veritably swarmed by other customers, and her stomach felt like it was about to eat itself. Honestly, she couldn’t blame it - she was getting a little impatient too. Five more minutes passed, with the staff looking rushed off of their feet, and the people around her getting grouchier and grouchier, and Keira finally came to a decision.
“Excuse me?” She let out, catching the eye of the one server who didn’t look overloaded at that particular second. “Hi, sorry-- I was wondering if I could just pay for my coffee and go?” she requested, with a wry smile. “You can cancel my order in the kitchen, if that makes things easier.”
Caffeine. It was a must. Eddy could have sworn his bloodstream itself was running thin without it, after being awake for all of half an hour. It would be cheaper to make it at home, sure, but where was the fun in being fiscally responsible? He could just spend the money now, and be anxious about it later. They’d already counted out their cash by the time they stepped into Beans & Barley, and decided they had plenty to splurge a little. That was why, when they spotted Erika about to pay at the register, they dropped the collection of bills down onto the counter. “On me,” they interjected. It felt like the right thing to do, for his… Well, they were never really siblings, were they? More like ex-child-roommates, as if that was even a thing. “If, uh… If I also have enough for an oat milk latte in there, which…” Quickly, Eddy fumbled through the little pile of cash again, “I probably do.” Then, they turned to Erika - they probably ought to say something, right? “Hey.”
Yolotl wasn’t a stranger to getting her picture taken. Back in her past life before moving to Port Briar, the spotlight had never been an issue for the young businesswoman. If anything, she had always thrived under the pressure of everyone’s eyes on her; found it encouraging to a degree. Now, however, more than six months after leaving everything she knew behind, the spotlight had turned more into a hazard than a tool to use in her advantage. Reason why, as the other spoke up and asked to stand still, all the brunette could do was stare at them, doubt covering her features almost instantly. There was a reason why Yolo had barely left her house since she moved to town, after all. And yet…
“You’re really gonna waste time photographing a person over the view?” she questioned, her tone light and joking, doing what instructed. What was the worst that could happen? She was an advocate for art, after all. Always had been. “Unless you’re asking me to stand still so I don’t mess up your shot, in which case I will wholeheartedly understand, but my heart will inertly break for my modelling career dropping quicker than flies.”
{ - }
“I’m here for the view, and you’re part of it now,” Eddy replied, with a little shrug and a jovial smile. From what they could gauge, she didn’t really seem to mind “The view’s always going to be here. The weather will come back someday, but will you? ...Can’t be so sure.” They were leaning into the pretentiousness a little bit, but hey, that was their best pitch for why they needed to rely on a nearby stranger as a model.
With her cooperation, Eddy crouched down again, raising the camera into place. She seemed to click into it naturally, with the air of somebody who’d been photographed before. That just made it all easier. “Well, it would mess up the shot if you moved… Unless you want to see what you look like blurry,” he offered jokingly, taking one last click just for good measure. “Although, if this is a career move, I regret to inform you I have… Maybe 10 bucks on me. At a push.”
Living by the coast was a goldmine for anybody with a camera. The views could be picturesque, but better still, the water got choppy at times - the waves would crash and churn against the jagged, rocky base of the cliffs, they’d shoot off in almost sharp-looking shards, and Eddy loved to capture it. The only issue was the angle. To get that kind of a shot, standing at the edge of the cliff and looking out wouldn’t do; they had to lay on their front over the rocks at the cliff’s edge, and dangle partway over them, arms outstretched and waiting with the camera tightly clasped in hand.
Despite the cold weather, and the coastal winds heightening it, he waited diligently until the perfect wave struck. He let out a loud cheer, leaning as far as he could without risking something much worse than a lame picture. With the shots taken, he pushed himself back from the edge, and swiftly hopped back onto his feet - at which point he noticed he wasn’t the only one who recognised the view for it’s potential. “Crap. I’m in your shot,” he pointed out, facing the girl with a grimace. “Sorry, sorry-- I’ll move. You can probably get, uh…” That looked like a recording camera to him. “...Better footage by the edge.”
It wasn’t unusual for Keira to spend an evening tucked away in the library, but it was a little more uncommon for her to have company. It was a little busier than usual that day, and so it made sense to share a table with somebody she somewhat recognised. Erika was a few years her senior, and frequently popped up as a TA, which led Keira to presume she was the responsible sort. Unfortunately, in their newfound proximity, that didn’t seem to be the case. Not if the tinny, muffled music blasting from her earphones was anything to go by.
“...Excuse me,” she began with, leaning a little further over the table. Upon getting no response, her previously polite smile grew tight and taut. “Hey,” she said, a little more sharply - perhaps too sharply for the nearest librarian, who promptly tutted at her. Further irritated by the embarrassment of that, Keira waved her hand between Erika’s eyes and whatever she was working on, waiting for her to pull a pod out. “Could you turn that down? I can barely think over here…”
maya looked around the diner. it was either ‘ take this offer ’ or ’ go home ’. “ thank you. ” she thanked the other and sat down in her seat, holding her own bag on her lap. she was still sorta new to port briar - and so far she has only really learned a few things. one of those things is that once you meet people for the first time, you see them almost everywhere for as long as you live here. another thing is that, if you can (because sometimes, the urge to gossip and vent is definitely there), to keep personal things to a minimum, not unless you want to risk it circulating around the town like oxygen. she looked at the other who was sitting across from her. “ uh, i didn’t think it would be this crowded - it’s not really lunch hour, unless this is how it usually is around here… ”
{ - }
Hearing the other girl over the diner’s many patrons was difficult enough, but Keira somehow managed it. Her eyes narrowed for a second as she thought it all over, and then a look of recognition clicked into place. “Oh, are you a freshman?” she asked, before having a little tact could occur to her. “I mean, Bluey’s is just kind of one of those places everybody seems to know everything about… unless they haven’t been here long,” she reasoned, sitting up a little straighter, letting a thumb keep her place in the book she’d been struggling to concentrate on anyway. “It isn’t always like this, but… It happens. You and I just picked a popular day. It’s probably just one of their specials…”
although sophia had a horrible habit of people watching, it was like tonight she was incapable of doing so, stuck in her own little world.. that was until someone placed down some dishes and snapped her back into reality. she had just glanced over to the other, watching as the embarrassment flooded the girl’s cheeks. she offered a small smile to the other as she shook her head, eyes wide. “any of what?” she hummed, chuckling softly. “i didn’t see anything. and if something did happen… im pretty sure no one saw anyway.”
{ - }
Keira bit her lower lip, taking a slow, cursory glance around the room. It wasn’t as subtle as she would have liked, but being barely awake kept her from such facilities. When her sights landed on Sophia again, she let out a relieved sigh. “Looks like you’re right,” she replied, clearing her throat to get the weight of sleep out of it. “Thank you,” she said, still in the midst of straightening out the books in front of her. “For… acknowledging that nothing happened,” she added, with a slight playful tilt to her smile. “Do you have the time, by the way? I, um… I’m honestly not entirely sure how long I’ve been here.”
there was a time when things had been easier, a time where their whole family had just made a silent agreement not to gift each other things because the money was tight and gifts weren’t strictly a necessity. now, however, money wasn’t the issue anymore but instead rather the fact that victor was utterly lost as to what to buys for his little sister, melina. first of all he felt rather far removed from the realities of living as a 23 year old young woman and secondly he didn’t know whether he should rather buy her something practical or something nice. ever since he had enough money to consider these things, he had also been worried about spoiling his siblings too much. it seemed like there was really no right answers in this department and so he just continued wordlessly staring at a handbag through the windows of the little boutique he was standing in front of. he should have definitely brought adriana to help him.
the only thing that rescued him from his growing frustration with the task at hand was a voice asking him whether he minded to take a couple of steps to the side. “ oh, yeah ! no… “ he was about to assure the other that it was no issue, turning slightly to face them, when they told him to stay put. from the corner of his eye he could see the camera pointed more or less at him and immediately froze. it happened every now and then, people taking pictures of him that he could never be sure wouldn’t end up online somewhere. “ actually, i don’t really like having my picture taken. “ he said with a rueful smile, hoping the other would be deterred as easily as that, hoping they weren’t some kind of fan or anything like that. “ it’s a bit of a pet peeve you might say. “
{ - }
It happened, from time to time. Getting to a point where he could ask just about anybody if they wouldn’t mind posing for a second depended largely on Eddy reaffirming the fact that, sometimes, people would just say no. The thing was in the real world, adults didn’t run around doing the same petty things as kids did; they wouldn’t panic and try to smash the camera in his hands quite so quickly. It helped, of course, that he could empathise well enough with the people who didn’t want to actually be in his pictures. “Oh, yeah, totally,” he rambled, quickly lowering the device in his hands.
“I’m sorry,” they added, for good measure. They started to get a little fidgety, which wasn’t ideal - adjusting the camera’s settings blindly might well ruin the shot he could get when the stranger stepped aside. “It’s not-- a creepy thing,” they added, which… probably made it seem creepier. Eddy winced internally at the hole he was digging for himself. “I’ve been here for, like, an hour already waiting for the sky,” they gestured vaguely towards the backdrop before them both. “I can wait a couple minutes more.”
Window shopping. Hanna wasn’t one to do it often, but on a day off, anything was better than staying home… especially when their previous shift hadn’t been as emotionally heavy as they were expected to be. Plus, their flatmate and them had agreed a while ago that they could use a couple of new things for their living area, to make it more lively… so, there she was: looking for said things.
Someone caught their attention by calling them out and Hanna was ready to leave the frame, raising their hands apologetically as they stepped to the side. A soft chuckle escaped their lips as they tucked a strand of hair behind their ear. “You know… I’m way better standing behind the lens than in front of them.” Still, Hanna returned to their previous spot and tried not to look as awkward as they felt. “Like this?”
{ - }
Eddy knew that feeling well. He let out a soft snort, and shrugged his shoulders with sympathy. “Should’ve brought your camera then, huh?” he joked; they seemed willing enough to go along with it, and so he would take the shot. It was convenient enough that he’d stopped somebody who looked like a model anyway - that would probably make all the difference.
“Well, you’re doing a great job of standing. Just pretend I’m not here, and then that’s all you have to do, right?” they suggested, playfully arching an eyebrow from over the camera before they raised it to their eyeline again. “Exactly like that,” he confirmed, before he triggered the shutter. “...Perfect,” he said, snapping a couple more just for posterity. “I’ll return the favour someday,” he offered, although he was internally relying on the improbability of that being an appealing offer.
His days with Edith were usually filled with lots of energy coming from the little girl that tugged his arm towards Bluey’s to make Akeem walk faster. The place seemed to be more crowded than it normally was, which made Akeem hold onto his niece’s hand a little tighter, until she was perfectly sitting at a table and he could take a glimpse at the menu, that he probably knew by heart now, but it was always nice to double-check.
When someone’s constant interjections caught Akeem’s attention, he couldn’t help but to let out a light chuckle as he chuckled his head. Luckily, Edith was far too focused on the game on her uncle’s phone to have paid attention to what she would’ve considered cusswords, so that was a relief. “I didn’t see anything. I don’t know what you’re talking about… but do you need a hand or–?”
{ - }
Of course, it had to be a handsome stranger who caught her making a fool of herself. Keira blinked quickly, doing her utmost to wake herself up enough to appear like an actual, functioning human being. Once she sat up straight she managed an apologetic smile, grateful for the man’s willingness to gloss past her impromptu nap. “Thank you,” she said, the words riding out on a relieved sigh.
“I’m… Mostly okay, I think,” she answered, mostly to reassure herself, along with a little nod. “Oh, but it’d be helpful to know what the time is,” she added, when a glance out the window told her little more than the fact it had gotten dark. In the burgeoning winter, that didn’t mean much. When she looked back, she noticed the young girl, and Keira grimaced at the recent memory of her outburst. “Oh, god, I’m so sorry… I hope she didn’t hear any of that.”
