✧ * • ☾ castle

[isaac-day-blog]

“Rabbits are so unsanitary. Tell her to get a cat, at least you can stay on top of the stink they make.” Isaac says, voice level and relatively unaffected. Usually he supports everything Brookie is interested in, but there’s something about rodent-like creatures (even if they aren’t actually rodents) that he doesn’t particularly fancy. It’s apparently too tough to get past.

[eviegdi-blog]

“Believe me, if I could have influenced this decision at all, I would have. It would seem I’ve taught her to be stubborn and independent a little too well.” She sighs, the both of them knowing fully well that Evie would never quash Brooklyn’s hopes and dreams, even if she could. “You missed the part where I said we were going to visit one. I don’t want to actually own an animal of any kind. Looking after you and Brookie is work enough; I’m not nurturing enough for that shit.”

[aidenwest]

“I can’t say I knew that there was an animal obsessed phase with toddlers but I’m glad that I don’t have a rabbit, and I don’t know anyone that does. You’re out of luck there, babe. Just think, though, it could have been much worse. They could have been aspiring to run an entire zoo from your apartment with lions, tigers and bears; oh my.”

[eviegdi-blog]

“You must not spend any time around toddlers because animals are hot right now. Especially since that Zootopia movie, which, I’m guessing you don’t know about either. Nah, it’s actually a good thing no one has a rabbit because otherwise, I’d be forced to actually be nice to someone besides my very exclusive friend group. Not a particularly enjoyable scenario for anyone involved, let me tell you. Check back with me next week; I’ll probably be asking who’s got access to the predator exhibits at the zoo. Brooklyn goes from zero to sixty.” 

[eviegdi-blog]

sms to satan.

ISAAC: i mean no you're not

ISAAC: but like it's a particular, fiery sort of hatred today that i cant handle

EVIE: does it have a source? do i need to fight someone? because i will

EVIE: even if i don't have to, i will

[eviegdi-blog]

“What’s with toddlers and phases where they get obsessed with animals? Like, I get that some of the first words we teach kids are that the dog goes bark and the cat meows, but should that really inspire an entire preoccupation with running a rabbit farm out of one’s apartment? I don’t think so. But hey, if anyone has a pet rabbit, I know of a small child who would absolutely love to come visit.”

[eviegdi-blog]

sms to satan.

ISAAC: sos i dont want to go to work today

ISAAC: also i hate everyone

EVIE: don't go to your work come to mine. keep me company.

EVIE: is this a new development? am i supposed to be surprised?

[kianhassan-blog]

There’s a look on Evie’s face that strikes him odd – odd even for the situation he’s found himself in, which truly is one to leave very big question marks in his mind. Everything feels very… off right now, but nonetheless, she’s beckoning him over and his feet are guiding him toward the small, silver haired female and her even smaller companion. He comes to a stop just a little distance away, gaze wandering back down to the toddler who seems to have a rather large smile for him, despite the fact he knows they’ve never met before. His memory may be fading faster than a 80 year old man’s, but he’d remember this. He knows he’d remember this. Still, he’s trying his best to return the gesture, a polite smile curling his lips that’s perhaps a bit more genuine than he’d expected of himself. She’s adorable, is the thing. Stunning too, and he can’t help that he has a soft spot for children, as much as he tries to hide it. His teeth are showing for an instant, before he’s distracted by the other’s sarcasm.

Hazel hues travel back upward to meet Evie’s, bright smile fading only slightly to turn more toward a smirk. He knows what she’s referencing, of course he does, though he’s a little surprised she pays any mind to local gossip. He hasn’t read any articles other than that one (not yet, at least), figuring if it’s all as made up and extra as his was then there’s really no point. Maybe he’ll take a second look later, but for now he pushes it to the back of his mind in favour of focusing on more current matters. “Out, yes – productive? Sadly, you’ve got me there,” he jokes, though it’s true unless one considers finding their way home to be productive. It’s better than sleeping in the park, he supposes. “So… are you going to introduce me to the little princess I see beside you? Or have you kidnapped her and any second now you’re going to yell at me to run before some angry mom comes at us with her purse?” he’s trying to keep it light, when for some reason he can’t put his finger on, it feels so very heavy. 

[eviegdi-blog]

They must look quite the odd couple. It’s the first thought that flickers to her mind and she instantly regrets it, but its true. Kian cuts an imposing figure stood in front of them in all his height and the curt formality that seems to dance across his features makes Evie’s own go rigid. So this is as awkward as she had suspected it might be -- tense, angry, playful, flirty, she can handle; awkward, not so much. Brooklyn retains the beam on her young features, rocking onto the backs of her jelly sandals and then forward onto the toes again. Her curls are practically glittering in the sunshine -- reminiscent of family photos Evie distantly remembers where her own untamed locks fell like a curly halo around her head. She lost the curl somewhere around the time when she lost the blonde -- so much for ‘genetics’ never lying. Evie wonders if she’s let the silence stretch on to long. Brooklyn will probably say something in a few more minutes of menial niceties; Evie has to act fast before her daughter’s babbling steals her thunder.

Her head tilts a fraction, reading the shift in his expression as a response to her tease. He would be playing along then, than goodness. A bit of the stiffness melts from her shoulder. “That’s a shame -- though with how you’ve been going on, I guess it’s no surprise that it’s taken a lot out of you. Not all of us can have as good of stamina in the daytime as at night.” Evie’s gaze follows his, hazel meeting hazel as her daughter -- their daughter -- giggles. Evie isn’t sure if it’s at the word princess or the word kidnapped which should probably be more concerning to the young mother than it stands. “This is Brooklyn. She’s two years old and I’m a bit offended you’d jump to that conclusion when we both know no child would come with me willing besides -- well, she’s mine.” Her hand moves to rest atop tufts of blonde. She may have just left it there, awkward intro complete, but Brooklyn has other plans. She’s clearing her throat and tapping her foot impatiently. It takes Evie a minute to catch on but the she’s rolling her eyes affectionately and gesturing towards Kian. “And this is Kian, Brooklyn. He’s a friend of mamas from when she was young and reckless.” The second of the two words wouldn’t register in her daughter’s vocabulary and she can’t keep her eyes from flickering back to Kian for his reaction to her ‘reveal’ (although the fact she had to say something at all meant Kian wasn’t that up to date with the online gossip, thank god).

[allureable]

[kenway]

[kianhassan-blog]

@eviegdi

It isn’t often that Kian feels the need to go out and get some fresh air into his blackened and tarred lungs, and it’s even less often that he goes so far as to enter a park surrounded by greenery and nature of all things. It’s really no surprise then, that right now his intentions are to get straight home, and that the only reason he’s even in the park at all is to take the fastest shortcut for his walk of shame. Maybe the local gossip had been right about him sleeping around, but what more proof do they need than this that he’s willing to look outside of his own building to feed his addiction? An almost bitter laugh falls from his lips at the thought, and he’s barely focusing on anyone around him aside from the occasional wince at the piercing squeals of young children playing nearby. It isn’t until he catches a flash of gray locks that his attention gets caught, hazel hues lifting toward a familiar face. One that he always seems to have a smile for.

“Evie!” he’s already called out her name before he sees her. The small blonde girl that’s attached to Evie’s side, and bears are rather striking resemblance to the woman who’s hand she’s holding. A child of a close relative? It looks too… beautiful for it to be that. Just a small glance in their direction and Kian can already sense the bond that’s shared between them. Enough so that he comes to a complete halt, confusion being the only expression to make an appearance upon his face.

[eviegdi-blog]

Evie is 110% the type to suffer for her aesthetic -- which currently includes glistening (sweating) in a leather jacket over her halter in 80 degree weather with a high humidity. It’s not art if you don’t make sacrifices and, besides, she’s making up for it in other ways: silver hair gathered up in a high ponytail that swishes around to Brooklyn’s delight and shorts so short she’s getting strange looks from the other mothers scattered around the park. She thanks some higher power that she’s nothing like them -- fashion wise and in the helicopter parenting style she witnesses. It’s laughable, how dead terrified they are of their kids getting a little scrape or, god forbid, making friends with the girl whose tattooed mother looks young enough to be her sister. Brooklyn tries her hardest anyways, always more gracious than Evie herself and offering to share in her merriment.

There’s a call of her name just as the toddler comes skipping back to her side, slipping her hand into that of her mother. Ordinarily, the gesture is more than welcomed but the combination of that and Kian’s voice in particular has her mind racing. Most of the thoughts that rise to the surface are some variant of fuck but she doesn’t speak them aloud for obvious reasons. She half turns to him all the same, knowing that to ignore him (or to book it and get out of there fast) would only draw more attention and unwanted questions when they inevitably met again. Waving him over invites a questioning look from her daughter but, always in the mood for new friends, a smile brightens the young girl’s features anyways. As, perhaps, expected, Evie combats a potentially awkward conversation with sarcasm and a smirk curls the corner of her own lips. “I’m impressed to see you out in the daytime -- recent events had me leading to believe you were only productive when the sun goes down.” She ignores the fact that her own name was mentioned in the article -- honestly, why was this anonymous writer so obsessed with her?

[z0esugg]

[eviegdi-blog]

did you get angry about isaac calling you out at the festival because you know he's right?

“I got angry because his word choice was judgmental as fuck and not the kind of thing you say to your best friend. However, I apologized because I didn’t have the right to jump down his throat when I literally started the conversation and asked for his advice and he was just trying to be real with me. He didn’t mean it as harshly as it sounded and, at the end of the day, he does have Brooklyn’s best interests at heart. Wait, is saying that going to start rumors he’s the daddy too? You know, the genetics don’t lie.”

[eviegdi-blog]

any bad habits you wish you could give up?

“No. My bad habits also happen to be very fun so why would I give up pleasure? Until and unless they start getting bad for my health or for Brooklyn, I’ll be retaining my vices, thanks.”

[eviegdi-blog]

[isaac-day-blog]

Isaac’s hand dips into his pocket as he makes his way towards the table, attempting to effect some form of cheerfulness for Brookie’s company, even if he feels far from it. In the end, all he really gets to is a sort of upbeat almost-neutral, though as long as it’s on one side rather than the other, he can make due. Fingers wrap around a little packet of disinfectant wipes that he’s taken to carrying around over the last few days, and he pulls it from where it’s hidden, removing one of the wipes soon after. Then he makes to wash off his chair, including the back of it where he puts his hand to pull it out, and the little segment of their table that he’s apparently deemed as belonging to him. He tosses it out into a bin before he finally sits down. A lot of things have been getting out of hand lately, but this is one thing he can control and he can make himself feel better about, even if it is slightly embarrassing with the way people look at him for doing it. He tries to keep his head down and ignore them.

“It looks beautiful, Brookie.” He praises, leaning in slightly to admire the beginnings of her drawing. He’s come to associate the shapes she draws with anything she describes it as, and encouraging her is one thing he’s actually good at. He wishes someone had encouraged him, back in the day. Maybe he would’ve had an easier time of the path he chose in his particular brand of artistry. “I’ve had better ones.” He says to Evie a few moments later, lifting green eyes to briefly alight on her features. They drift back down to the table after only a moment, unable to keep contact. “But yeah, thank you. Coffee – black. And maybe a chocolate croissant? Cranberry muffin if they don’t have any of those left…” Despite his sweet tooth, Isaac has always liked his coffee to be as bitter as he is. It’s a principle thing. 

[eviegdi-blog]

Evie likes to think she knows Isaac fairly well. So watching the unfamiliar (but not entirely unexpected) routine in which he engages before deeming the chair worthy of sitting, it triggers a whole set of questions as to just how bad things had gotten in the days of Isaac Day as of late. Jumping straight in with the critical questions, however, isn’t her style -- caring about the emotional stability of others is barely her style with this one exception seated across from her, bending in to examine the barely started scribble of a ‘cat’ made by her daughter. Brooklyn all but lights up in glee at his praise, hazel eyes gone wide as she looks to her mother as if to say I told you he’d love it. As though she’d ever doubted as much.

He doesn’t hold her gaze and there’s no familiar spark of challenge or banter present in his deadened gaze. Another alarm bell rings and Evie bristles internally. Whoever’s caused this is going to pay -- be it the twink, another one of their fellow Marlborough residents or some outside force altogether. She slips out of her seat, leaving Isaac and Brooklyn to their own devices while she concocts her plan. Getting Isaac to spill his troubles to her shouldn’t be too difficult a procedure and once she has a target, their fate is as good as sealed. Luckily, the shelves in the warmer were freshly stocked and she’s able to return with not only what Isaac asked for but a small red velvet cupcake for Brooklyn, accompanied by a glass of ice cold milk. Her own coffee has a few shots extra, motivation for the conversation ahead. “Now,” she begins, setting down the goodies and folding her hands on the table as she takes her seat. “You’ve had better days?”

[tomshardy]

[bunnygirl1998]

[eviegdi-blog]

if you were to be alone for the rest of your life (which lbr, at the rate you're going, you will be), do you think you'd regret not putting yourself out there more emotionally? or like, regret not having any emotions at all, perhaps?

“Alone for the rest of my life? Music to my ears. It’s hard to experience anything akin to regret when you’re not all there, emotionally. I have Brooklyn and a few friends here or there. So long as I have them and I’m still getting laid on the regular, that’s all I think I’ll need but thanks for the concern.”