rip out the wings of a butterfly.

this endless mercy mile, we're crawling side by side. with hell freezing over in our eyes, gods kneel before our crimes. come on, let's show them your soul, rip out the wings of a butterfly.

[flytrcps]

𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞'𝖘 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝟐𝟑, 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖚𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖘𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝟏𝟕. pinterest ♡ visage ♡ musings ♡ aiying and samantha

trigger warnings: abuse, neglect, alcoholism, implications of kidnapping and tr*fficking

HEY, i think i just saw AIYING 'IVY' CHIA walking down the strip. stop by to catch up and you’ll learn the THIRTY ONE YEAR OLD is working as a DOOR PERSON FOR THE DOLL HOUSE BURLESQUE CLUB and lives in SOLSTICE APARTMENTS. given they are CANDID but STANDOFFISH, it’s likely that they ARE NOT a vampire. i bet you can find them tearing up the dance floor to FUCK ME EYES BY ETHEL CAIN and you’ll know why they’re called THE HAUNTED HOUSE.  ☾ .⭒˚ song yuqi. genderfluid + they/she. closeted homosexual + aquarius.

growing up in meteora, greece, in a family of seven kids under a single mother who was overwhelmed, she and her siblings were the talk of the small town for looking nothing like their parents. orphaned to anathasia pallas-dexicos when they were a few months old, due to a relationship riddled with domestic violence. safe to say, they weren't set up for success from the start

a slew of horrendous abuse suffered through in a case of munchausen's by proxy, it was neglect that convinced social services to round the kids up and separate them into the foster care system. for a time, they were together in manchester, england. when two triplet sisters were chosen for adoption and she wasn't, she was sent to different foster families in london, eventually running away for good when the care system would have deemed her unfit to foster and placed her in a group home

after flunking out of school for their overall truancy and lack of diligence, getting into drinking at an age far too young and already depressed about the life, or lack thereof, ahead of them, they were basically signing their own certificate of internment to customer service jobs over the next few years, repeatedly failing to make bills on time and getting evicted out of flats

somehow, they managed to end up in the states, aimlessly floating from place to place until they weren't able to pay up for motels, and they hit rock bottom, offered a deal for a warm meal in exchange for a job. what they didn't know about said job was that it involved escort work, and they were in over their head with no way out. it was a hopeless situation and the friendships they made with the other femmes in their position had to be discreet

ivy took the bold chance at escaping years later through constructing a cautionary scheme ( think something like the horror film fresh ) and managed to flee to lights and the closest town. she had ended up somewhere in fremont county, colorado, otherwise dubbed prison valley. with a torn piece of paper she'd managed to steal from a flyer a few months back, she was able to find someone who would bring her to an undisclosed shelter

it took months, and a couple old-fashioned snail mail pen pals to a discreet PO box, but they felt ready to return to society, and in their stay they had managed to get in touch with one of their sisters, astrid, who invited them to stay with her in las vegas until they got back on their feet. taking up on the offer, they picked up and moved in with family, a person completely transformed since ending up in foster care. although they had always been an unbridled and short-tempered child, their trauma only exacerbated their naturally frigid personality

because the temptation of bad habits that put them in desperate straits in the first place were everywhere, they opted for a kid-friendly job at the local pizza joint, although they are incredibly awkward with kids. which should be considered ironic, as they do have a child they gave up in the hopes of having a better life, that seldom anyone knows about. they've since moved on to being the door person at the doll house after an encounter with a vampire

it was good to be free, though, and she eventually found herself comfortable enough to seek out ads looking for roommates and move in with someone else, muse goes here. currently in the process of rediscovering herself, she's rather unpleasant to be around and immediately distrusting of 98% of people, which makes her a sardonic bitch to them largely, but she does thaw if given patience. she likes keeping busy with her hands, nights in, and her roomie's dog. isn't afraid to tell it how she sees it, just a little lost and lonely inside

[acetakashima]

Open starter (@boneyardstarters) Where: Glitter Goulch Lounge When: May 30 late evening

"Betcha' I can stay on the mechanical bull longer than you," Ace said with a grin, a taunt if it was anything else. "Twenty bucks to see which one of us can ride it longer? Although I think I already know the outcome, but you can try."

In all honesty, Ace doesn't even know if he's going to win. But, it was always fun to make these kinds of bets. He likes the thrill of things and adding money to it doesn't hurt. It's also to make the stakes higher or just plain entice the other person to take up his challenge.

Ace is a local, has been going to this event for a majority of his life. He's had his fair share of riding that bull and has definitely lasted in riding it for at least eight seconds. He's going to try and break his record and having someone go against him is getting him excited.

"Would you prefer a higher amount? I don't mind it." he says before looking over to the mechanical bull. The person who was riding it is barely three seconds in and they're already slipping, then falls off of it. Ace laughs, amused at the person who fell and couldn't last a mere three-seconds on it.

There's a pretty long line for the mechanical bull so he gestures with his head towards the line to his companion, "You coming or not? Not a coward are you?" he taunts again with a grin.

[flytrcps]

Oh, great — naturally, when Ivy was covered up to her fucking elbows in mud was precisely when her brother's bandmate was apt to approach. "Do I look like I want to get on a fucking bull right now after I've been wrestling giant hogs for an hour, Ace? You can fuck off and get me a blondie bar, but fucking liminal space will freeze over before I get my ass involved in any other rodeo shit right now."

Besides, they probably shouldn't start betting when they had an aptitude for frivolous addictions, as it were. Ivy was trying to better that about themselves, you know, keep to the straight and narrow, and cultivate that mundane life that had them mulling more and more over the pros of moving in with their girlfriend. The cat would really be out of the bag to everyone who knew them, then. But... that wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Ugh. They should be past all that bullshit of worrying about how they were perceived. Worrying about how they were themselves. Learning to accept themselves was easier said than done, and mindless for anyone else. Why did they have to be their own worst critic all the time?

"Why don't we make it something else? Twenty bucks to whoever can eat the most brownies without throwing up in the next twenty minutes. I'm starving. And I couldn't be sweating any more than I am in this outfit," the pink-haired contestant bitched and moans, pointing them in the opposite direction, "Are you too big of a coward to scarf down a bunch of desserts and get paid for it, or what?"

[meretmanons]

YUQI ♡ COPDD

[flytrcps]

with: @stcrmyeyes where: outside glitter gulch when: anytime during the event

"I look like a right fucking arse right now." There was a twinge of irritation in her conjecture that was directed solely toward herself, one hand against her cocked hip, sporting a cowboy hat that kept tipping down over her eyes and an empty holster slung around her waist, and spurs on her boots that click-clacked every time she took a step in any direction. ( Which, by the way, were insanely fucking heavy and led her down the rabbit hole of wondering how anyone stomached to wear them every hour of every fucking day less than a hundred years ago. ) "And you want me to hit this shit with a hammer like I'm Thor? What if I hit it hard enough that I go flying into space? Or... flying right onto my ass and blow the seat of my pants off." Of course, Ivy was complaining for the sake of complaining — given it wasn't a game of chance and strength that Samantha could participate in herself, their qualms were actually relatively few. "Okay, stand back, just in case I throw this shit like when I dropped that bowling ball on my foot the last time we went out to Sunset Lanes. I'm not willing to repeat my trip to the ER over that one."

[andreaxweber]

"Aurelia really did make it quite a beautiful place even before I moved in, I just added a few touches of my own. It really is like something from a storybook." Andrea's voice was soft as she spoke, her eyes wandering around the kitchen before she continued in making the lunch for the two of them. She had always been fond of making meals, especially for others, it was one of the ways she showed her affection or friendship to them. She made sure to make Ivy's favourite, something she had written down in a notepad along with other favourite meals of those around her, just in case they needed something comforting.

Andera almost froze as they mentioned the water tower, it seemed like ever since that night she was being haunted. Sometimes she felt eyes on her, only to turn around and see nothing and faint whispers, mainly coming from radios. The blonde took hold of two of the mugs, placing them down on the counter before grabbing the kettle to pour out the water. "Yeah, it's like it hasn't really stopped, faint whispers, a feeling of being watched." She began to explain. "The creature." Her voice was almost a whisper. "Have you been hearing and seeing things too?"

[flytrcps]

"You two seem perfect for one another." Ivy's words were as sincere as they could come — normally, she was as coarse as velcro on the inside of someone's shoe. There was no cushiness to most of her observations, inclined to call everything how she saw it. Supposedly, the realism was a trait shared between her and her own partner. Aurelia and Andrea appeared to balance one another out like yin and yang — though Aiying wasn't as familiar with the psychic medium as their own brother, there was a sagacity about them that they could appreciate. Especially since they were inarguably a person who acted first and thought about it later. "Wow, this lunch looks delicious. Thank you for cooking. I... can't remember the last time I had a homemade meal, our apartment is so fucking small you can barely use the single burner."

It hasn't really stopped, faint whispers, a feeling of being watched. Involuntarily, a shudder crept through Ivy's spine, and the frown bowed as deep as the fear that invaded into their bones. "Did you ever... get a good look at it? Did it look like a person to you?" Belatedly, it occurred to them that it was probably obnoxious to ask without a good explanation — the pink-haired counterpart could descry trauma when they saw it. Averting their mocha hues, they rocked their body forward where they sat, mulling over how to explain it. "Um... I saw these weird red eyes a while back... When we had that crazy storm, I swear there was, like, a dozen of them or more... I thought maybe it was a bunch of rats or something. You know, crawling out and looking for somewhere to hide if their nest got ruined... I don't know."

Taking the mug and steeping the bag into it, they fell silent again, the heartbeat accelerating in their chest and creeping up to their throat. The silent scream that they tried to let out in the alley. "But... I quit that Chuck E. Cheese place recently because, um... a couple months ago, I was locking up and this woman... I thought she was following me. I hadn't seen her before. Like, tall, brunette, with these... eyes. Like, you can't look away, but you know when someone's, like... evil. You know?" Maybe Andrea didn't. Maybe Aiying only understood that because they had stared it in the face before.

Blowing on her mug after idly staring into the depths as the water swirled into a darker and darker shade, a menacing sight that zeroed in on the memories replaying in their head. "She cornered me there," she continued on to explain, "And I swear, when she opened her mouth, she had... all these teeth. I don't think people have that many teeth, like... sharp rows of all these fucking teeth. Before she could do anything, I was... able to stab her with my keys and get away." Pausing, she let her tale sink in for the blonde, before asking in a voice that matched her size, "Do you... think that's the same thing? That that's the creature."

[b4rredteeth]

Gemma licked her lips at the tone. Her mom would be so angry if someone set this tone with her, she could hear her scowling in the back of her head. She’d set up a high voice and demand reprieve. But her child was very different from her. She didn’t take these things personally. Because she could see into their little heads and hear those thoughts, the fear, the worry. She found it delightful.

she leaned closer as if waiting for the big reveal to follow. Murder, mayhem, manipulation, misery. Instead she got… misfortune. “You got jumped?” She cocked an eyebrow. “In this city? Why would that someone continue to follow you? Did you see their face? Did you uncover something horrendous?” She did not believe this would be the reason for that note. It didn’t… tickle her fancy. She would never put a note like that in someone’s backpack for anything less than scaring them shitless because they were on her shitlist or knew something that needed to be cowxed out of them.

If she were the note dropper, she would’ve made sure she had a friend near, to arrange a meeting with the other, assure her everything was okay, and try to uncover what she needed to know. If only someone had asked her for such a mission.

[flytrcps]

The pink-haired menace took a step back when the stranger leaned in closer. Anymore, they couldn't tell the difference between whether there was something off about another person, or their mistrust autopiloting to collide them directly into a dumpster fire. Though there was the bristling urge to snap and warn the other back, the terror had possessed Ivy. No longer could they think straight, and the last time something like this had happened, their girlfriend had been in the vicinity — not yet their girlfriend, but... a kind and willing stranger to volunteer shelter until the fright had passed. Until it felt safe enough to venture out again.

Through scrambled thoughts, they tried to pull everything back together, uttering, "No, I..." Wrong place, wrong time — shit like that sounded like a laughable excuse to most strangers. "I think... I learned something about them that I'm... I'm not supposed to know, but if it's not them, then it's..." They didn't want to say it. To the point that their stomach turned and battered against their petite body and demanded retribution for comprehending the thought, and their fist loosened around the note. Taking the note in both hands, she started to rend it from one end to another, until the divination splintered into miniscule pieces.

"It doesn't fucking matter." She was fine. She was safe. She was fine. She was safe. The mantra repeated itself, over and over, and the backs of her eyes burned with tears she didn't want to shed. Teeth bit down hard on her inner cheek, the blood that welled to the surface and a shockwave of pain enacted as a feeble attempt to force herself to the present.

[wtfru--imabrat]

location: the waffle cottage

date: late april

@flytrcps

It had taken some time for Romi to adjust to her new life--and even now, she still wasn't used to all of it. For someone that had grown up in the lap of luxury, suddenly sleeping on a couch in a cramped RV was quite the culture-shock. Not that she minded all that much, of course. It was certainly better than living on the streets, especially considering that she got to live with one of her best friends. And surprisingly, she was taking to her new job at the Waffle Cottage quite well. At first, she'd had to convince them that she could do more than just be a waitress but after showcasing her skills in the kitchen, the boss was seemingly more than happy to make her a line cook. As grimy and gross as it was, she actually found that she really enjoyed it. She enjoyed how fast-paced it was--it left very little time for her mind to wander. And when she was just a line cook instead of the sous chef/the owner's daughter, she found that people didn't bullshit her. Plus, she didn't have to deal with the public--not really. She'd even ditched her blonde locks for a dark brown—it had been Salem's idea. And she liked the newfound confidence it gave her. At the very least, she was able to pretend that she felt a little more self-assured than she actually was.

Having just beat the breakfast rush, she'd stepped outside to have a smoke. Cigarettes were back to being her sole vice so she was trying to get what she could. As she lit up, she recognized a familiar face headed her way and there was nowhere to run--they'd already seen her. Shit. The last time she'd seen Ivy, she'd been a fucking trainwreck and while she technically hadn't been high, she might as well have been. She'd been like a deer in headlights and if she was honest, she was mortified by the whole thing. But given the fact that she in fact had had a sort of breakdown and relapsed since they'd last seen each other, at least she had some sort of valid excuse for her behavior. She supposed the only thing she could do now was try to have some sort of do-over. Taking a drag of her cigarette, she gave a little wave to Ivy and said "Hey..."

[flytrcps]

They were strolling up to pick up breakfast to-go and drop it off at their girlfriend's office. Things had been a little off-kilter since the Weiss wedding and all the fanfare that came with it — ironically, it had little to do with the dramatics that had ensued in the papers, and the myriad of tragic outcomes that followed, an ode to the five horsemen of the apocalypse. Nevertheless, the doorperson didn't want Samantha to think that they were ireful toward the suggestion of a shared living space... Alice had been right, it wasn't something that she needed to jump right into the pit of, but time was required to warm up to the thought of taking the next prophesized step in a relationship without fucking it up sky-high. Before moving to Vegas, and escaping their delicate predicament, they had never successfully held down many prospects in their life. Let alone friends. In fact, most of what they could steadily juggle was an airplane of shots and crashing on a couch somewhere. Pinching pennies to get a cheap liquor store fix and bouncing from one minimum wage job to another to pay for bottle after bottle. Meaningless, and that claustrophobia intensified tenfold when they fell through the center of the earth and off the map of the living, weaving through the walking dead.

Well, things were different now, and everyone else's normal was... uncomfortable. Fortunately, the longer that Ivy sat with the feeling, the less jarring it was.

At first, she didn't recognize the brunette greeting her, and she curled her lip instinctively in a snarl to ward her off. The recognition hit them like a freight train seconds later, and abeyance gripped into their bones and buried deep. Lips pursed, trying to make sense of the sight now. Did she have a crash out and go nuclear? It would be too rude to ask. As heavy on the hand of petty bitch as Ivy was, they didn't care for prying into other's lives, as they wouldn't take nicely to having their own tossed out in the open. "Wow, a whole fucking word more than you could say to me last time before ripping my head off. You're not gonna do that shit again, are you?" Okay, no one said they had shed the trait of holding grudges, practically handed down from the brother that raised them and fed them and tried his hardest to shield them from the cruelty of humanity. "I think I deserve to bum a cig as an apology."

[thmbheart]

lauryn + ??? : may 30, day @ the doll house burlesque club @boneyardstarters

rodeos weren’t a thing lauryn attended. in fact, she’d never been to a rodeo before, but it reminded her of the times when she would go to coney island. or just to central park to spend a day there. sure, it was a big city like vegas, but it felt like a small town, seeing these businesses come together and make something unique and fun. she was dressed her very best for the occasion, an all denim ensemble with cowboy boots and the hat to match. but something she knew, was dancing. sunday morning clean ups in the nears home made for a family bonding that always seemed to end up in dancing around the living room and singing into brooms. she had music in her life again, but in a different way. cosmix was something she loved, let's be real. she loved coming up with melodies and figuring out slant rhymes that would make jay-z proud. but at times, she missed just singing and dancing for the fun of it. she had those moments with the girls, but they were few and far between. she found herself in the burlesque club, sipping on a homemade lemonade and watching the dancers, trying to maneuver her feet the same way the more competent dancers did. these cowboy, west coast line dances were something that lauryn wasn’t used to. sure, it had been a few years since she properly danced, but she wasn’t afraid to try. settling down her lemonade, she turns to a person sitting at a nearby table. “join me for a dance? or are you one of the ones with two left feet who can’t keep a tune?” her tone is playful as she tips her hat towards them and extends a hand.

[flytrcps]

"Me?" There was an incredulous sputter off their lips, lemonade flying in about three different directions, and they were already in the midst of shaking their head. "Hell no, not unless you wanna go flying across the bloody dance floor. I'm a fraud when it comes to dancing." The last time they had taken Samantha's hand at their brother's wedding, they had stepped on the copy editor's toes about half a dozen times over. It couldn't have been comfortable, and the mellow blonde had bountiful good graces not to chew one out or suggest that they end it before the song was over. Country wasn't always fast-paced, but they weren't looking to send out the domino effect and knock half the building over. Maybe that was their lack of self-confidence butting in the way, though. "I'm serious. You've been warned if this causes complete destruction and clears out the building." Their lemonade hit the table with an unceremonious clunk, surveilling the area to ensure that there weren't too many people around if their arse happened to wipe out that they would be taken notice of. "It's your funeral," a final warning was issued as they placed their hand in the other's, erring on the side of awkward as they stood up, making a mental note to chuck the lemonade when they returned. It was still Las Vegas, after all, and they didn't plan on taking any chances against anyone around that cogitated to morph the festive occasion into something with a sinister undertone. "I haven't seen you around here before." As if it meant anything — Ivy was a hypervigilant person, but that didn't correlate to taking detailed notice of their surroundings at their job. Sauntering toward the floor, they paused long enough to adjust their headband, preventing their permed pink curls from hurling into their countenance. "Okay. I'm ready as I'll ever be. How the fuck do we do this?"

[sxllout]

It wasn't every day that the rodeo was in town, and tensions had been high at the museum given all the goings-on around the city. So it only made sense to Graham to take the entire crew out for some workplace bonding. He had honestly forgotten who had suggested the bar crawl, but now that he was several beers in, it hardly mattered.

The night had been a blast so far, bouncing around the various bars in Vegas, and now they found themselves at the Glitter Gulch. Someone had bought Graham a shot, which he had surprised even himself by taking, and now he was lined up in pigsty with three others and a lasso in his hand. The next moments were a blur, but an airhorn sounded and he was swinging the lasso through the air. Within moments, and to a huge roar from the crowd, he had hooked a pig and it was in the process of trying to pull away from him. Hand over hand, he pulled the pig closer and closer in, a huge smile on his face even as mud trekked its way up his jeans.

But then a flash appeared overhead, and Graham knew - he knew in his soul - what it was. Suddenly he was three years back, in the desert with old friends... and it was terrifying. His sight went pure white as a beam of light drew his attention up. His jaw and hands went slack. The rope flew from his hands as the hog he had lassoed escaped forward with a squeal, and he slowly raised a hand to point at the sky.

"Uh," he stammered. "What -- what is that?!"

[flytrcps]

To be clear, Ivy was far from a country gal — actually, they'd never been around a farm animal their entire fucking life until today and had taken a crash course in how to play helper for the lasso contest. Their therapist suggested getting out of their comfort zone when they expressed boredom with their monotonous routine, but that it felt unsafe to break the loop of when they went to work and came home. There was the ever lurking possibility that they would encounter the very last person on the planet that they coveted to attract.

Unsurprisingly, mistakes were made. So concentrated as they were on listening for their cue, the blurted query had them stricken with surprise — what the fuck? The round, glowing spacecraft had to be fucking fake, this was some kind of... cowboys and aliens joke, right? As skeptical as they were about the hovercraft, they tore their eyes away. The impact of a hog running right into one of the contestants took precedence over a hillbilly prank.

Jumping the fence, they ran across to the side of Alessandro Vitelli, frowning as they tried to disentangle him from the mess of rope that had wrapped around when the hog had gone flying. The beast was grunting and panting up against Alessandro, and honestly, Ivy felt worse for it than the guy. Pink, permed curls spooled around their shoulder as they knelt down, asking, "Hey, are you okay?"

[no-one-likes--a-mad-woman]

Alice was always happy to see her sister--they hadn't always been close but over the past few years, they'd gotten to know each other and had formed their own close bond. Plus, Rhea always loved to see her Aunt Ivy. The brunette was grateful that she'd put up with her daughter's insistence that she paint her toenails, even if the paint job was a little more coloring-outside-the-lines than she'd bargained for. After all, the little girl was only four. Once Alice had given Rhea a snack and put her down for her afternoon nap, she found herself on the couch, giving advice to her younger sister. Personally, she was kind of shocked that Aiying was reaching out to her for advice--about love, of all things--but she wasn't about to question it.

She softly nodded and said "I mean, it is a big step. And it can be scary--but that doesn't mean you should talk yourself out of it." Alice had had plenty experience in this department herself. Granted, it hadn't ended well but that was old news by now and to be honest, the fact that Ivy knew that and was still seeking out her advice warmed her heart. "So have you two already talked about moving in together? Or is this something that you're wanting to ask Sam? Do you think you'd move in to her place?" She could understand feeling at home when spending time with one's partner--that's how she felt when she spent time with Bambi. What do... you think? Is it too soon? It's been like, two years. While she personally considered two years to be plenty of time, she also acknowledged that it took Ivy a really long time to trust anyone, let alone be in a relationship with someone, so moving in together was a huge deal. She shook her head and said "I mean, everyone is different but I don't think that's too soon. I mean, you love each other and you know one another so well. I think that this would be a great next step."

She also wanted to lend creedence to what the realities of moving in together entailed. "It certainly does take some getting used to. She very well may discover some habits that she didn't know you had--and you'll discover habits you didn't know she had as well. It's not really about it being...perfect but rather, about figuring out how to work through those moments where you may not see eye-to-eye, learning how to compromise. And that is scary for sure. But if this is what you want, you and Sam living together, don't let that stop you."

[flytrcps]

"I'm not trying to talk myself out of it, I just..." Ivy trailed off, frustration creeping into their voice as they averted their eyes to stare at the couch, clutching one of the throw pillows in their hands and resisting the frenetic urge to tear into the stuffing and start pulling it out, bit by bit. Erect destruction on her surroundings, as if it would solve the broken bits and bobs that were poking out from beneath her skin and prickling those around her. "I don't want my roommate to feel like I'm... you know, abandoning her, either." When she had first moved out from under her sister Astrid's roof, it had been the right move, at the time. "No, no..." Lifting a hand and waving it, it fell back to her leg uselessly, her curtain of permed pink curls spiraling across her visage, and admitting, "Sam asked me, actually, and instead of saying yes or no... I said I would think about it. I kind of feel like I fucked it all up already. I'm not really good at this shit. I've never really... been in a relationship." Coming out to their family had been slow and painful — well, a relief, of course, but an incredibly awkward conversation starter for the socially stunted door girl. After all this time, Ivy didn't know how to appropriately term what she was, only what they were. Girlfriend and girlfriend.

Besides, the horror running amok in the city had kind of put all that soul-searching shit on the back burner, for the time being.

"Yeah, and what if all those habits just make us hate each other and we're constantly fucking annoyed? What then? I was constantly fucking annoyed growing up with my brothers and sisters, who's to say that's gonna be any different?" Ivy groused, half-mumbling it as if the pessimism were shameful of them; it wasn't that — they loathed the idea that they could ever come to be irritated by the wonderful, introverted blonde. Maybe that was holding them back from their fullest potential, as venturing into territory riddled with incertitude had been faced under a veil of inebriation before they had been thrust into it involuntarily, and they had been playing it safe ever since they had reached the city, which could hardly be termed as a safe haven. Propping her chin up on her knees, Ivy went silent for a minute. Then, she prompted, "Would you do it? Move in with that person you've been seeing. If she asked."

[andreaxweber]

Andrea was happy to see them again, especially when it was just the two of them and not a whole bunch of people at a very fancy party. While they adored playing catch up at events, they preferred places like a small café or their home, easier to talk and listen to or just listen. She had led them in from the front door and towards the kitchen, the window open just enough to let the wind hit the chimes close to the window. Andrea gave them a nod, making their way to put the kettle on when they changed their mind about what they wanted.

"Don't worry about it, the most relaxing, that would be." Andrea opened a cabinet, some boxes and some jars with tea inside of them. "Chamomile." They smiled as they held up the jar to Ivy. "You said you wanted to talk to me about something and I take by the choice of tea it's something that's been on your mind." The blonde spoke up, moving around the kitchen to get some cups for the tea. "Take your time okay, I'm not going to rush you to speak." They gave them a reassuring smile as they motioned them to take a seat.

[flytrcps]

"Wow, Aurelia's place is lovely. I guess I should say your place now that it belongs to both of you." Grey eyes studied the kitchen as she found a place to sit, and accepted the jar as she waited for the water to warm up, cradling it in her hands as she thought about what to say. How to explain it to anyone else. Ivy had come all this way out of the city, hoping that with Andrea's previous encounter, the other wouldn't turn them away. Hell, they were at a loss for how to describe it to their girlfriend — they must have sounded ludicrous enough when they described how the dark lit up with glowing red eyes a few months back and gripped them with terror that someone was stalking them.

As it turned out, someone had been, but not the someone that they had been expecting.

"Do you remember that thing you were telling me about before you moved out of the townhouse? Like, what happened at the water tower and stuff." Running her thumbs across the ridges of the jar where the neck met the top, they finally plucked out a teabag and handed it back. "Did you ever feel... like something was watching you? When you had all that weird stuff happen with your radio?"

[blood--in-the--water]

location: ivy's place at solstice apartments

date: march 22, 1997

@flytrcps

It had been a couple days since the assassination and she'd barely been able to get a wink of sleep ever since. With each noise that went bump in the night, she found herself clearing her father's house with her gun, her heart beating out of her fucking chest, certain that the Vitellis had come for her. After a second night of no sleep, she knew she had to get somewhere safer. She'd go back to her father's house--after all, he had entrusted her to essentially house-sit for the foreseeable future. Still, at least for now, it wasn't safe for her to be there. So she quickly packed a bag, made her way to Ivy's, and just hoped that they'd agree to let her stay with them for the time being.

Knocking on the apartment door, she took in her surroundings as she waited, trying to ensure that she hadn't been followed. When her friend opened the door, she said "Hi, can I please come in?" She didn't want to spend any more time than she needed to on Ivy's doorstep. They could talk in private once the door was shut and locked behind them. As the door closed, she said "I'm really sorry to impose upon you but could I possibly stay here for a few days? I'm dealing with something and I just can't be at my dad's place right now." She hoped that adding in the fact that she was currently staying at her dad's place would help her case (she didn't really see the need to mention that he wouldn't be back for a while).

[flytrcps]

"No how are you? Kinda rude, love." Her intermixed accents jumped out a bit as she articulated her sarcasm, stepping out of the way nonetheless to let her into the cramped apartment, complete with significantly cleaner floors once she and Willa had to mop up the shitshow of their apartment flooding to their elbows. "Fine, come in. There's canned stuff you can pop into a bowl and nuke in the microwave." That was about all the basement apartment was good for. Willa had dolled it up in her whimsical way enough, and it barely covered how disgustingly small and unflattering it was. Or the draft that ran through it, considering they were shoved up under everyone else like they were an eyesore.

"Why, did he fucking die or something." Ivy grimaced after it came out of her mouth instinctually, rolling her eyes. "Sorry. That was kind of a dick thing for me to say." Closing the door behind Briar, she bolted up the several locks that fanned out over the length of the door. "Willa's covering some big news thing tonight, so I guess you can share the bed with me. I'll find the sleeping bag tomorrow so you can sleep on the floor." Honestly, she didn't think the dancer would be too finicky — or if she was, she didn't really have the right to feel owed anything, given it was Ivy's doorstep she had showed up to. Picking up the bowl of ravioli she had been chowing down from the bed, she fished around with her spoon for another bite. Anything but the news was playing on the television, though it was now permanently stuck on the PBS channel. "The shower whistles like a car's gonna backfire now, but have at it."

[starstckrs]

always an intentional listener, lainey would spare the occasional glance up through the mirror's reflection so ivy could be certain she wasn't tuning out their conversation. she had been chewing on the same half-eaten piece of gum she popped in when she first stepped into the salon that morning and nursing a cup of water with long since dissolved ice cubes keeping it from needing a refill. in all honesty, she was tuckered out—but the grind never stopped, not for her, at least. "mhm. i've got a new treatment i've been wanting to try out on someone brave and willing. could knock off a couple bucks for the whole thing if you let me do it. promise it won't fry all your hair off," she brushed her nimble digits through ivy's grown out curls, spinning one strand around a forefinger as she assessed the damage. "it'll make everything a lot more hydrated for sure, and bouncy and very soft. should help maintain another perm, too." if there was anything lainey could be defined by in her life, it'd be her experimental nature. it's what won her the grand jury prize at a film festival back in hong kong, and it's what she was certain would be a blessing upon ivy's head full of parched-looking hair. "bold of you to assume i'd talk about that shit anyway. this is where i come to try and escape it, i've all but banned the words 'vitelli' and 'weiss' from my chair," a snort escaped her nostrils as she reached for one of her mixing bowls, perking both brows up at ivy through the mirror. "cutesy? i mean, i decorated some flower pots made out of tongue depressors with my girls. but i make a point not to spend my commercial holidays with strangers. waste of my money and time," then, she leaned over and began perusing the collection lined up on the vanity for all the necessary ingredients she'd need for her special solution. "you?"

[flytrcps]

New experiences kind of freaked Aiying out. Once she had picked something, anything, to accomplish a sense of self again, she had clung to it like it was the life raft adrift of the Titanic. Thus, when she was posed as a potential guinea pig, she swung her feet back and forth, mulling over the potential repercussions, however perceived. Lainey had never given her reason to mistrust, albeit the credit was not easily won. It was really her brother's recommendation that had sent her stomping down to the salon, many moons ago now, when she had first arrived in the city — it was embedded in a series of jilted conversations that were stiffer than her calves from running around the Chuck E. Cheese joint after snot-nosed brats all night, before she had ended up at the Doll House. After ruminating it over, she obliged. "If you're sure you're not gonna make me wake up fucking bald tomorrow, then, hit me with it. I'm game." Fingers banded together loosely, fidgeting in her lap restlessly, and let out a snort. "I don't really... get politics. I never could get interested in that shit." Plus, no way in hell anyone could convince her that community existed, when no community was erecting a village of a search party after the missing alcoholic who couch-surfed over paying her dues on a shitty apartment all mildewy and crawling with rodents and roaches. Times had changed her, but she didn't think she would be worth noting if she blipped out of existence again, either. "Oh, yeah?" An idle pause. Ivy caught herself wondering sometimes — if that was what her kid was doing right now, wherever that was. "No speed dating for a hot one like you?" Her lips curled into a smirk, evanescently. "I don't celebrate." Partly because she thought it was a stupid holiday, herself. "Religious reasons. And I don't think how well my relationship is going should ride on one day only, I guess. Or I hope not. Have any cosmetic disasters for the holidays? Every bridezilla wanting a Valentines wedding was probably in here."

[moonlessmines]

daisy‧₊˚♡ & OPEN

Just because they weren't opposed to breaking and entering didn't mean that Daisy wanted to go through the trouble of breaking into their own apartment. It was early in the morning - a time that most people were waking up to start their day, go to their normal nine-to-five after dropping their children off at school, or to their biweekly water aerobics class, or to watch the stock market open up. Daisy's night however, was still in the process of ending. She probably looked like a crazy person standing outside the Soleil Apartments; only half of her pigtails were still tied in place, her black leather jacket obscured much of her outfit, which had begun glittering in the sun. Somewhere along the way, she had forgotten her shoes. She carried a shot glass in one hand and someone else's sweater. Who had given it to them again? They couldn't remember, which meant that the owner would likely not see it returned. ❝God damn it, why isn't anyone buzzing me in?❞ They huffed at the buttons in front of the building. Maybe she'd just chosen a bad time, or pissed off her neighbors one too many times for making noise at odd hours or asking to be buzzed in as the sun was still trying to creep over the horizon. ❝If I could just find my keys, then I wouldn't need anyone to buzz me in...I swear I hid my spare somewhere around here...❞

@boneyardstarters

[flytrcps]

Vegas had a way of digging up skeletal remains. Faces one never thought they would see again. The clarity that sobriety brought them saddled them with a suffocating amount of anxiety of being confronted by old haunts — former foster kids that fell through the cracks like her, that was a big buzzer. Solstice Apartments was a hub like that, maybe it was built on a fucking ley line, and clutched the keys tighter to their chest as they approached and the face elucidated in the vague streaks from a flickering lamp overhead of the door. There was dried-up puke stains running on down the sickly green exterior of the door itself. Fucking disgusting. Ivy recognized that face, but she tried to pretend otherwise. ( Unfortunately, she was a Goddamn terrible liar, not to mention shit at poker. )

She clenched her fists, and pulled her free hand back to slam it against the side of the metallic plate, which caused the speakers to sort of warble and fizzle out. The door unlocked. "That's because it doesn't fucking work half the time. And I'll be whoever's behind the desk fell asleep at this hour." Ivy didn't normally stay out this late. Self-imposed curfew, debris littered about in the wake of trauma that she'd seldom bothered to clean up yet. Routine was safe. See, they could've used their key — but they had it brandished as a weapon, just in case. Never turn your back on someone you didn't trust. Especially not this bitch, if she'd even recognize the other with her pink permed curls pulled into a ponytail.

"What floor?" she deadpanned, waiting in silence, before pointing out, "You're plastered. There's a creep in 4B. And some other lady went missing last month. I can walk you to the door."

[thesw0rd]

The two parasites that had somehow latched onto him like a pair of hemorrhoids seemed immune to repellent, or cream for that matter. He had given up on trying to get rid of them. Some pests you just needed to learn to ignore. Still, it exasperated them how comfortable they had gotten in his home. Beyond the fact that it was an absolute dump, he wasn't by any means hospitable. Willa had worked her way in with charity cooking and bubbly company. Ivy, however, just walked in one day and decided she belonged there. He pretended to hate it, convinced himself he hated it, but in truth, the company, while incredibly obnoxious, passed the time.

"Do I look like a plumber to you?" He used to lock his door, but some time after these two showed up, he simply stopped. It was just to save him the trip of getting off the couch, of course.

Yapping. That's all either of them did was yapp. He had a tendency to do that, bunch them together as one being.

What he was watching was a war documentary. He was something of a historian, at least when it came to violence. Usually, he didn't watch the TV anyway, just stared at it while thoughts drifted through his mind one at a time. He didn't bother defending it.

Again, exasperation. His brows pulled together, the expression plastered across his face with such animation you could practically hear it. "Why the fuck?"

He stopped himself and shook his head, leaning back on the couch and turning his attention back to the TV, or at least pretending to. "If you rather watch war, then by all means, there's a beer in the fridge. Otherwise, you know where the door is." It was an invitation, a rude one, granted, but an invitation nonetheless.

[flytrcps]

He should really take Ivy's presence as a compliment — the pink-haired menace didn't particularly take a liking to men after everything they had been through, and thus, there were exceptions that could be counted on less than the five digits of one hand that they tolerated. Dominic, Maxim, and Theodore. Albeit, they hadn't seen much of the latter since he had been rescued from hell on earth, too. Plus, it felt like safety, having other hiding spots, in case someone came along looking for them... someone that they didn't want to be found by.

Haughty drift of their mocha eyes zeroed in on Dominic, the nonplussed look full of attitude that ignited her eldest brother's short fuse like a bottlerocket. Maybe that was the kicker: Ivy surrounded themselves with people who shared their brittle temperament, and their sisters were the isle of sanguinity in a boiling sea of lava. Their mother always made a point to say it — ticking time bomb waiting to happen. ( Then again, Athanasia didn't know shit about parenting from the variegate of watery soups and bills left unpaid and children left unsupervised in an empty apartment. )

"You don't have to be so sniffy, I'm not a bug flying around your head." Unlike Willa, they had a proclivity to talk back, and honestly, Dominic could twist their arm and escort them out of the apartment at any given moment. For some reason, he didn't.

Why the fuck? "Why the fuck, what? I don't think that's a real question," Ivy flapped their hand at the man, rolling their eyes and making a face, "I don't drink." Anymore. Certain things didn't need to be said. "Whatever, but if my apartment like, implodes or something, I guess I'll blame it on you. Since you don't know anything about pipes. What do you do when a rat climbs up your toilet next? Are you gonna take the plunger and hope it pushes it back down?"

[b4rredteeth]

Gemma looked with a neutral face, though she hid her disappointment. Nothing worth stealing. She hadn't done such a thing in a long while. Not since she became Capo. When she had been a child, it had been easy, the thrill of it the first beginnings of a life of crime. And she'd never stopped chasing the high. Though it had always been done with her siblings in tow, coming up with fun schemes to make the day go by faster.

She narrowed her eye when the reaction turned more interesting, leaning over a bit to see the other reach into the bag and take out a note. She read along with her.

An eyebrow shot up at the accusation. "And bring attention to myself? I might as well have made the threat in person," she commented, but with an air of 'what a silly idea'. She did not look around, she hadn't seen anyone get close to the other all the while, and if the bag was indeed open for good because of a faulty zipper. "Sounds like someone you've run into before must've have left it there. What did you do?" she asked, conspiratorially.

[flytrcps]

They could have choked on their kneejerk ire, pulled out all their hair in front of the other and screamed — the audacity of the words thar flew out of her mouth. "Why would you assume I did something?" The anger simmered, hot and rife, but it was the panic that dissolved it from contemplating scratching eyes out in defense of their own self, and their face was burning redder as it settled deeper in their gut, the longer that they looked at the writing. "I think... I think someone's looking for me, because I ran away..." And it wasn't fair — if that was true, then none of it was fair. Her brain was running through possibilities, and yet, Ivy was stuck on that eyesore of the biggest one: that their past had finally caught up to them.

Or what about the woman that she encountered in the Chuck E. Cheese alley? The one that... hadn't been a woman at all.

"I got jumped in an alley behind that pizza place last month, and like, I got away," she covered up her own embarrassment and shame that snowballed from a past life in captivity, and it was the straw she could grasp at, over spilling her guts to a complete stranger. Besides, it probably happened to people every day in the city — God, look at the fucking papers. Chewing furiously on the inside of her mouth, the inner walls makeshift bubblegum until she could ruminate into insanity with something tangible, her hand fisted around the note. "Maybe she... I don't know. I don't know what to do. I'm..." Scared. "Am I fucked?"

[flytrcps]

with: @deatthtouched ; dominique where: the doll house burlesque club when: after hours in april

It wasn't precisely part of the job description to help clean up; Ivy liked to loiter around after hours, partially because the job was rooted deeper within Las Vegas and the one-way ticket home was waiting for either her roommate or her girlfriend to pick her up at the end of the evening. Plus, she had slowly but surely been thawing to a few of the performers in the venue. Most of them weren't overtly abrasive. Coming from a family of seven mouths to feed in Meteora, there was no shortage of sibling rivalry and bullying that could seem excessive to any regular outsider. Normally, when it was herself and Dominique left in the building, the dancer and door girl would argue until the sun came up about everything and nothing, a significant lack of silver lining to suggest that there was malevolence in their exchanges. Tonight, however, there were about a dozen other topics on Ivy's mind that they were flipping through as they sat in one of the empty dressing room chairs, impatiently awaiting on Willa's arrival and listening to the box television in the corner drone on about a special weather announcement. Running her fingers through their hair, they wondered aloud, "That murder was so strange, and they never followed up on it. They ever say they were sure it was a scuffle?"