orion hart

IT'S CALLED FREEFALL Scratch, kick, let gravity win like Fuck this, let gravity win

[hartorion]

BLYTHE LANDRY 

When two people grew up together in a small town, it was hard to know who found what first. Blythe remembered the times that her father took her to all of his favorite secret gems of Boot Hill. Places that his father took him and her grandfather’s father before. A town legacy exploring the old and the new. This spot being one of those hidden gems. But, who was Blythe to know if Orion didn’t do the same. This could have been hers before they started anything. It could have been a spot that they both shared without even knowing it. “I’m not going anywhere.” There was some double meaning in her words. Blythe wasn’t going anywhere. If she was, she would have turned around the moment she saw the raven haired beauty. She would have avoided Orion at every chance she could. But, here she was. Constantly sparing with the woman who stole her heart and refused to give it back, no matter how bad they were for each other. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Blythe spat back, not knowing why the two of them were even continuing on with each other. It was all pointless. They were constantly going in circles getting no where. Just saying words that they knew would hurt each other. They were calculated and methodical. At Orion’s question, Blythe couldn’t help the short laugh that escaped her lips. She had given up a lot for Orion. Part of it was her integrity at a deputy. She had so much to prove within the department. Being the youngest and a woman in the boys club was hard. She was a town legacy and that made things even harder. All eyes were on her, and for some reason, she fell in love with a petty criminal. “Name one thing you gave up for me.” Blythe said softly. Her face falling into the softness. Different from the furrowed brows with a look that kill. The only thing that could be seen through her features was how much love the deputy still held for Orion. “I’m not going to ruin it for you.” 

Leaning her head against the back of the plastic adirondack chair, Blythe closed her eyes. This hurt more than anything. The severity of their lives when it came to how much they didn’t care any longer. She didn’t say anything. She just sat there, tears forming in her eyes. How did they let it get this far? How did she still love her this much? Even after all of this time. Minutes passed between them. The only thing that they could hear were the sounds of Boot Hill waking up for the day. The sun was finally up and the heat was setting in. The day was starting but all Blythe wanted was for it to end. “I can’t do this anymore, Orion.” Blythe finally broke the silence they were sitting in. “I still love you.”

“Must be my lucky day.” She deadpanned. Was there such a thing as a comforting threat? As the word ‘anywhere’ seemed to linger in the air between them, she grabbed onto it. As easily and Blythe could’ve descended back down the fire escape the moment she saw Orion already claiming the space, she herself could’ve left. Wished the other a good morning, fuck off, and crawled back into her own cold, empty bed. It would’ve been easier than this — trying to decipher double meanings, look for the chinks in the armor. But no, Orion knew. It wouldn’t have been an easier. She would’ve crawled back into bed, and lie awake thinking about the girl on the rooftop. As she’d done a thousand nights and a thousand mornings before, and would do for thousands more. 

She chortled, still bristling with irritation — and something else. Under her clothes, under her skin, both courses Blythe navigated with far more ease than she had any right to. “Threats have a timeline, officer. Promises, though. That’s for-fucking-ever. Or until your girlfriend has you in cuffs, and not even in the fun way.” She volleyed back, brow raised in defiance. She was nowhere nearly as familiar with the law as Blythe — her own lessons had been learned the hard way. Or, by a public defender who represented her in a civil suit when she ‘allegedly’ threatened a patron at the Schoolhouse Cafe. Her saving grace had been the lack of witnesses, and the fact that she did indeed say she would put a fork through his femoral artery if he didn’t stop harassing the other waitress on duty, but she’d never said when. (Though, in Orion’s opinion, the ‘now’ was implied.) Either way, the case had been dismissed, and she’d learned not to be so damned specific with her outbursts.

Orion narrowed her eyes. “Not how it works. You don’t just get to bounce shit back to me because you don’t have an answer.” She said. She had her own answer, though. It was a simple one. Everything. In fits and spurts, little bursts of sacrifice that Blythe didn’t ask for, and didn’t expect. What Orion didn’t give up was the one thing Blythe asked her to. Maybe that was why she hadn’t. She’d had a lifetime of people asking things from her — hell, she’d grown up with a black hole for a mother. Anything that was around Eleanor Hart for too long got sucked in and spit out in shambles. She was, after all, her mother’s daughter. “You will.” She sighed, a bit of the fight going out of Orion. “You always fuckin’ do. It’s not even your goddamn fault, that’s the worst part about it.”

The silence that settled in was nothing like the serenity they used to have — a sense of peace Orion used to hold dear. The Arizona sun was growing hot on her face in it’s ascent, and she would happily blame it for the heat in her cheeks. As soon as she heard Blythe start to speak, Orion wanted to stop the words from passing her lips. Whatever they were going to be, she didn’t want to hear them. She knew by the heaviness between them that whatever they were going to be, she could never unhear them. Still, her eyes locked on Blythe, waiting. She let out a breath, though it felt more like it’d been pulled from her lungs. Once again, she waited. For what, she wasn’t sure. A cruel phrase? The inevitable ‘I love you, but...’ But that never came. Orion felt that heat again, unsure if it was anger, or something else. Shaking her head. “Don’t.” As if it were a faucet that Blythe could just turn off. As if she could. Because in that moment, Blythe looked so irreparably sad, Orion continued on. “I’ll tear you apart because that, that’s what I do. And because you’re so goddamn good, you’ll let me. And I can’t take it when you finally get sick of my shit, Blythe. Not again.” Though, it was like her body took it’s own agency as she spoke, because her hand was against Blythe’s cheek, and her lips were against hers. 

[camilamcrrone]

[hartorion]

BLYTHE LANDRY

A person never plans on falling in love with someone. She remembers the conversations that she had with her mother on the very subject. Love always found a way of sneaking up on a person. It was what happened with Blythe. She never planned on loving Orion. She planned on loving Liam for the rest of time. But things never went like they planned her in Boot Hill. She didn’t know how it happened. One day they were at each other’s throats in the girls bathroom. The next moment they were going at it in the bathroom stall. Blythe would have started dating Orion the moment she broke up with Liam. But, there was too much shit that got in the way of that. Plus, the older woman was a lot more unobtainable then. They just went along their business. Going at it with their mouths in more way than one. Just never defining anything more than that. 

When Blythe realized that she was in love with the other woman, it was too late to turn back. It wasn’t like she wanted to either. She was in too deep. Something constantly pulling the two of them together. Even to this day, that same pull was there. Blythe never believed in soulmates or that two people were meant to be together. She didn’t care how many times her mother would tell her the stories of the prince and princess while she was growing up. Or how many times her father told her that her mother was the love of his life. There were so many stories that she grew up with. They were always just that, though, stories. The only real life scenario she grew up with were her parents. But, that tragically ended when she was eleven when her mother tragically disappeared. So that didn’t count any longer. 

“Oh there she is.” The snark coming back like it never left. Even though it was before seven in the morning. Even with her own love story ending, Blythe knew that it wasn’t completely over. There was a fine line between love and hate. A person couldn’t hate another person if there wasn’t love between them. And, between the two of them, there was hate there. So obviously that meant there was love still there. That’s what Blythe had been telling herself. That through all of this, part of Orion still loved her. All because there was a part of Blythe that still loved the other girl. Or maybe all of this was in her head. “As I’ve reminded you before, this was my spot first. So no, I’m not going to fuck off.” The deputy reminded her with a scowl. 

It honestly hurt more than anything in this world. Losing the one person she actually loved with everything that she had. Blythe would much rather get shot again than to have her heart broken by Orion Hart again. “You’re a shit liar too.” Always acting like they could careless until the jealousy over took them and they started acting. It wasn’t the first time Blythe ended up leaving the bar alone because of Orion. But, she’d be lying if she didn’t ruin some of Orion’s chances as well. The last thing she wanted was to see Orion fall in bed with someone else. She had watched it many times before. A constant reminder of everything that she once had and lost. “Why must I constantly give things up because of you?” Blythe looked over at her ex with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not like you’re going to be there long before Tav fires you.” It was a low blow, but it was also the truth. She was actually surprised that Orion had been able to hold down her bartending gig at Coyote’s for this long. Even with the two of them constantly going at it, she was able to keep going. Blythe was proud of Orion. She was actually good behind the bar. Of course, she could have went to Octavia and told her all the shitty shit that Orion pulled, but she’s not as much of an asshole as she thought. She would never ruin a good thing. 

“Of course I wouldn’t.” Blythe repeated, a blatant lie between the two of them. Because if Blythe lost her, she wouldn’t be able to handle it. She had already lost three people in this world. Her mother when she was twelve, her father when she was seventeen, her brother when she was twenty two. She was alone in this world. A town legacy with no legacy coming after.  “I can’t lose another person, Orion.”  

A wry grin curved her lips and she gave a small little flourish with her hand, a half-hearted bow, as if she had given the performances of a lifetime. At the insistence that this place had belonged to Blythe first, she clicked her tongue in staunch disapproval. “As I’ve reminded you, you’re full of shit. I was just generous enough to share.” She countered. A clear lie — no one in the Grand Canyon state had ever accused Orion of magnanimity. What was hers was hers, unless she stood to gain something greater. She had to look out for herself, after all. The world took advantage of the kind-hearted fools and the generous souls. It took care of people who took care of themselves. But she had shared this place, no matter which of them had staked their respective claims first. She did so without protest, and without complaint. Until now. “So I’ll ask nicely. Please fuck off.” She requested, smile turning sardonic. 

At the reply, she almost chuckled, the sound riding out on a breath. Orion usually didn’t have the decency to lie, even when the situation would call for it, She wielded honesty as a weapon, sharpened words jabbing into any soft spots she could find. The one person she was willing to lie to was the one person who had always been able to call her on it right away, regardless of her intent. Maybe that’s why she did it. Blythe had a way of hearing the hard iron truths underneath the velvet-coated lies. At the next comment though, Orion’s jaw set. Someone came to play with her claws out this morning. “Fuck you.” She said, reflexes kicking. She wasn’t wrong — Coyotes’ was her longest employment on record, which by Orion’s own law, meant she was already on borrowed time. In her own misguided way, though, she was trying. When she spoke, she made sure her tone was measured. She didn’t want Blythe to know how hard that particular blow had landed. “Please, and truly, I’m begging you here, name one thing you’ve given up for me. Just one. I’ll wait.” She said. And, because as soon as the words left her, she knew Blythe could name dozens, if not hundreds of things she’d given up for Orion, Orion pressed on. “Go ahead though. Take this one from me so you can have your free drinks. God forbid you pay for your own shit. We have to keep the princess happy.” As quickly as she promised herself she wasn’t going to get started with the other woman this morning, she was lashing out. 

The last words surprised her, drawing her up short. The sincerity seemed to cut her far worse than any mean-spirited jab. Those, at least, Orion understood. She was at the ready, prepared to give as well as she got. This was something else entirely — something she struggled to navigate in the brave new world when they could barely be in the same room together. Eyes trained ahead, she shook her head. “I’m not yours to lose.” The words were quick, sharp, and came out before Orion could stop them. Then, though, she looked at Blythe, studying her features. The slightly down-turned pout, the softness in her eyes. She regretted that glance, her reflexive instinct to be cruel already having won out. Guilt settled into the pit of her stomach, eyes cast down as she chewed her lower lip. Two years ago, she would’ve taken Blythe’s hands into her own, squeezing like a tightly tethered lifeline. Now, though, Orion shifted in her chair, cigarette neatly returned to the worn pack. “We both know it’s not that easy to get rid of me.” She said, the best way she could manage the words ‘I’m not going anywhere.’ She cleared her throat, almost afraid to let that rawness linger. It felt like an open wound, and she was the world’s most unqualified doctor. “Even if I wanted to get lost, you clearly know where to fuckin’ find me. On my rooftop.” It was a clunky attempt at returning to the closest they managed to levity. It was a half-hearted effort at best — but she knew, the second she started comforting Blythe, lowered the shields, she was setting herself up for a whole world of shit she wasn’t prepared to deal with. 

[hartorion]

hi loves! i’m shay, forever late to the into game. this is my messy gal orion. more on her below —

Local, messy, generally kind of nightmare child. She’s super flakey, and holds absolutely everyone to the standard of paying attention to her when she needs it. Kind of like a stray cat tbh, she’ll wander off for weeks at a time and show up at your doorstep three weeks later like it’s not weird. (And can probably be lured in with food.)

Currently a bartender, but really and truly can’t hold down a job to save her life. She’s been bartending at her current gig for six months, which is a record. On a similar note, terrible with money. Don’t lend it to her, you’ll never see it again and she’ll forget it wasn’t hers to begin with.

Parental issues left and right. Her mom is still around, but Orion dodges her calls like they’re a pathogenic disease. (To be fair, the conversations usually either end, or begin, with her mother asking for money. Like mother like daughter, though the last time she got that accusation, it ended in a fight and another lost job.) She doesn’t know who her dad is, but if Orion’s asked, she makes up a new person each time. A traveling salesman. A convicted murderer. A prince of an country in Europe that has a population of 112 people. Just depends on the day.

Growing up, she and her mother bounced from one tiny apartment to the next, ended up on the street or in a shelter a time or two when they couldn’t find a couch to crash on when money was short. Orion’s been working since she was 13. The work ethic is there — the temperament and the consistency are not.

She believes life is too short to not do exactly what you want to do when you want to do it. That philosophy has resulted in approximately four broken bones, several reprehensible tattoos, and more one-night stands than she cares to count.

Had one longterm relationship with Blythe Landry, they’ve been the Worst™️ to be around together since then. Kind of a jumps from one one-night stand to another kind of girl. 

Tends to be a bit rough and tumble, will solve disputes with a chugging contest or an arm wrestling much. (She almost always loses the latter, 10/10 times claims the other person cheated when she does).

Fun dumb stats:

Zodiac Sign: Taurus

MBTI: ENTJ

Enneagram: Type 8 wing 7

Temperament: Choleric

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Moral Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Primary Vice: Hedonism

Primary Virtue: Candor

Element: Fire

For connections:

Regular bar patrons/ drinking buddies.

Neighbors who live in the Stagecoach. (Who probably whole-heartedly hate her.) 

High school friends. 

People she was generally awful to in high school.

People she deals to.

Tbh anything?

[hartorion]

RAMIRA REYES

“i mean, yeah, obviously.” ramira shook her head as if shaking the smell of boot hill off of her like a dog coming in from the rain. “it’s still a lot longer of a walk than i care to take in this heat and i grew up in el paso.” she’s not anywhere near the most vapid or helpless nyc resident and yet, here in boot hill, she feels like she’s being treated like one of her high maintenance siblings. the guy at the gas station actually asked if she knew how to pump her own gas. yeah, it took her a minute, but it’s only because she’s certain the gas pumps are the originals from the sixties or something. hanging on the other woman’s word, ramira practically bounced in her boots when she finally agreed. “sure,” she shrugged. she’d been on them a few times, but she knew next to nothing about them. “i’m sure it’s less cute when you have to live here.” ramira agreed, already seeing how inconvenient the place was. “oh, ah–well, it depends on what you mean i guess.” she crosses her arms over her chest as she follows the woman to her bike. “i came here from new york–” she tells her with a smirk, a nod to an earlier comment. “–i was born in this smallish city in cuba, but grew up in el paso. so y’know, small towns are pretty new to me.”

Her eyebrows inched up, waiting for the explanation as to why she wouldn’t trek across town on foot. As though Orion didn’t climb on her bike for as little as a two-block distance on occasion — the other woman wasn’t wrong. Sometimes even the very air had a way of feeling ominous here — bringing that tingling sensation that someone was breathing down your neck, or lying in wait around the next corner. As the other continued on, she seemed to consider her reasoning. After a long moment, she finally nodded her approval. A small gesture, blink and you’ll miss it, chin up, chin down nod. “Fucking desert.” She said by way of agreement. A moment of amusement flickered across her features at the other’s easy excitement.  “Give it a week. Maybe two, if you’re stubborn,” she said, taking a second to appraise the other, tilting her head. “You seem stubborn.” She added, almost as an afterthought. A compliment, though you’d never know it from her expression. “You’ll learn to fix that rental yourself to get out.” She said, attention leaving the other to scan the lot for her beat up old Harley. It had seen better days, but Orion blindly trusted the thing. She chuckled at her own New York assessment being on base — but as quickly as she was affirmed, she was proven wrong, too. She nodded. “You travel a lot?” She asked, hint of creeping at the edges of her question. “Better question — what the fuck brought you here? Fate? The mysterious unknown? — seriously, don’t talk to Billy down at the gas station for more than ten minutes, he’ll make you think you fell into a hellmouth or some shit. Dude’s been off his meds since the Reagan administration. When he gets going, he’s real fucking convincing,” she started, fishing around in her beat up old saddlebag for her spare helmet. “He convinced me this was Purgatory when I was eight. You know what it’s like to learn about purgatory from a dude with maybe ten teeth while you’re just trying to buy a Twix? That’s small town.” She said, pressing the helmet into the other’s hands by way of punctuating the thought.

[hartorion]

BLYTHE LANDRY

There were times that Blythe wished that she could turn back time. But, she wouldn’t turn it back to a year and a half ago. She’d turn it all they way back to high school. Where she would never have even looked Orion’s way. To choose Liam instead of the mean girl who was just a speck on her radar. If Blythe could, she’d experiment with some other girl. Maybe one that wasn’t surrounded with barbed wire and spat fire with every word. Then again, if she turned time all the way back, she’d never experience that kind of love. They shared an epic love story for such a small, strange town. Always being each other’s exception. The two of them went against everything they ever knew, thought, or felt. And for Blythe, that meant something. It was more than two girls falling in love because they didn’t have any other options. There were always always options. Possibly better options to end up with. But here they were, fighting every second of it. 

Blythe wouldn’t say that the incident was entirely her fault. She was out doing her job. Orion forced her to make a decision. If the rookie wasn’t with her that day, Blythe would have turned around and walked the other way. They would have fought about it like they always did, but their relationship would have lived for another day. In all honesty, Blythe didn’t know how long their relationship was actually going to last. She was surprised that they lasted for as long as they did. They were two unobtainable, independent individuals trying to making something out of life together. But after what Orion calls a betrayal and what Blythe calls a lack of respect, they were in this mess. Battling each other on who could careless. Throwing punches every change they could. It didn’t matter how far the words stuck. Every single one hurt just as much as the last. 

“Normally I get some better material than this.” Blythe smirked, shaking her head at the ridiculousness at their entire situation. But, they couldn’t stop. They didn’t know how to pull away entirely. If they did, they’d lose each other completely. Maybe that was why they continued the game. Too afraid of what would actually happen if the other wasn’t there taking the punches. To fully be alone in this hell hole of a town. Which was ironic since the two of them could have anyone they wanted in this town. And, if there was no one they specifically wanted, Boot Hill would find away to bring them said person. “Everyone knows I can’t stand you, but they know I wouldn’t actually hurt you. No matter how much I wanted to.” That was the thing with Blythe. She was nicer than Orion was, which lead her to being more liked around town. It also helped that her parents were always treated like royalty here before they disappeared. 

“And you deserved what you got at the bar. There’s only so many times you can sabotage my one night stands.”  There were only so many places to go and drink in Boot Hill. With Coyote’s suppling Blythe free booze, there was only one place she really drank in Boot Hill. But, when something always mysteriously happened to the individual she was trying to get into her bed at night, Blythe knew that Orion was up to something. She was always up to something. “I wouldn’t miss you.” She said softly, them both knowing that she would. 

Orion had never been an easy person to like. Not unconditionally, anyway. Her own mother described her as ‘all edges.’ Maybe there was truth to that, but it was a truth Orion accepted, even reveled in. In the cliche to end all cliches, Blythe surprised her. She found a way to genuinely like the ice queen. She couldn’t say whether it happened slowly, or all at once. In Boot Hill, time had a way of feeling like it was folding in on itself. Orion didn’t even realize how close the other woman had come until she was half in love with her. Worst of all, Blythe had the audacity to love her back. 

She could grumble about how much good that had done them both until her last breath, but dripping sarcasm couldn’t hide the truth in those words. They had been good. They complimented each other’s best features, and they strengthened their worst. If they were going to get into trouble, they were going to do it together. Them against the world. Until it wasn’t. Their brand of hate was the kind that only came from love. After all, weren’t the two emotions almost one in the same? They were a fire struck from the same match, burning hot and out of control. 

“Maybe if you’d fuck off and let me have the only two minutes of solitude I get in this godforsaken dustbowl, I can hit you with better material at say...” she trailed off, feigning a glance at an imaginary watch. “Noon? That work for you?” She asked. For a moment, eyes trained back on the still-rising sun, Orion idly wondered if that really was what she wanted. There had been more mornings than she could count with Blythe on this rooftop, tangled in each other, nothing more than a tattered comforter separating them from the unforgiving concrete surface. A bottle of whatever Orion had pilfered from her mother’s liquor cabinet split between them, tipsily watching the sun lilt over the horizon without a word passing between them. The genuine warmth between them, long since replaced by alternating flash fires and glacial blasts. That had been a lifetime ago, though, battles fought and wars won since then. Those moments could never be recaptured. She didn’t believe in magic, but that’s what those moments were, in a way. Fleeting, elusive magic. She was starting to forget how they felt. It was a shame. She would miss that feeling. But this? The moment when electricity still crackled between them, but this electricity was ominous. Rolling blackout, weeks without power ominous. 

She let out a humorless chuckle, fishing another cigarette from her pack. “You’re a shit liar.” Though, which part of that sentence Orion thought was a lie was still up for debate. Pulling back, eyes widening in poorly acted shock, she clicked her tongue. “I’ve got better things to do than make sure you don’t catch chlamydia from fucking townie Tara or whoever. I didn’t deserve shit.” It was an easy lie, and it’s a story she would never change. Admitting that jealously still growled deep inside of her when it came to one of Boot Hill’s best fell somewhere between ‘taxes’ and ‘being shot’ on Orion’s list of enjoyable hobbies. Instead of lighting the cigarette, Orion twirled it idly between her fingers. Always moving, always fidgeting. 

“There are other bars. You should check them out sometime. Indefinitely, even. Bars where I’m not currently on the fucking payroll. I’m sure you could fuck your way into getting your tab covered.” She said, looking back over at her. There it was again — that little sting of jealousy. Just a bite. She never claimed she wasn’t a hypocrite. Truth be told, she was shocked Blythe hadn’t blackballed Orion to Octavia yet. Orion would’ve done it. But she supposed, that was the big difference between them. They both had lines they were willing to cross. Her own resume wasn’t exactly a shining example of a model employee, and her references were rarely glowing. She was on time, she worked hard, but she never knew when to shut up. Even when she did know it was better to be quiet, Orion doubled down. She grinned, chin tilting up in a small nod. “Of course you wouldn’t, Princess.” 

[hartorion]

BLYTHE LANDRY

Every day it was as though Blythe was living her own personal nightmare. She could get over the weirdness of their town. Pretend that the voices she heard in the distance and the figures she saw in the darkness weren’t there. But, she couldn’t pretend that Orion didn’t exist. She couldn’t avoid the one person she wanted to. Orion Hart was every where Blythe turned. She was bowling when she went to see Bluebell. She was behind the bar when she went to Coyote’s. She was getting cigarettes when she went to fill up her bike. There was no escaping Boot Hill. There was no escaping Orion. All of this could have been an avoided. 

The one thing that Blythe constantly told Orion was, don’t make me catch you breaking the law while I’m on duty. There were times in the three years that Blythe did catch Orion breaking the law while she was on duty. All stupid little things that Blythe could look the other way on. Part of her felt like a hypocrite. In more ways than one. While she was off duty, she was right by Orion’s side breaking the laws she tried to enforce. While she was on duty, she was letting the love of her life get away with pretty much anything. That is until the final time. When Blythe and the rookie ran into her girlfriend a year and a half ago, Blythe was more than excited to see Orion. The excitement turned into absolute dread when she realized what they actually came across. Orion, publicly intoxicated, selling pills to some poor unfortunate soul. There was no way Blythe could turn a blind eye with the newbie right next to her. It would be her job on the line.

The pet name escaping Orion’s mouth sent a shiver down Blythe’s spine. She knew the words were laces with venom. Instinctively trying to hurt her in any way possible. It was true, Orion wasn’t the one who quit their relationship. It was Blythe. When words were shouted through the holding cell bars, it was evident that their relationship was over. How could they have gone on when Blythe literally arrested and threw her girlfriend in a cell? There was no recovering from that. The trust between them vanished and everything seemed so heavy. “Awe, is that the best that you’ve got?” Blythe shot back, enough fight for the both of them. What ever Orion dished, the deputy was able to give back. It was a great game of ping pong they were playing. 

Through all the hate, there was a sense of calm between the two of them. The familiarity never faded. The love they shared would always linger. They would always be the two kids, hopelessly in love with each other. The reminder of Orion and everything they shared was permanently inked on her ribcage. A declaration of love on one drunken night three years ago. “I’m off duty and off today, so I could careless what you’re doing up here.” Blythe leaned back in the chair, eyes staring off into the distance as the colors of the sky were filling with shades of red and orange. “So be my guest and jump.” 

Despite her prickly nature, Orion was a forgiving person, in her own way. She didn’t issue apologies, and she rarely accepted them. They were a waste of breath, and a waste of time. People fucked up, she chief among them. If she expended her energy holding grudges, she would’ve burned down the whole damn town years ago. But Blythe was the exception — she’d been the exception for so many things in Orion’s life, she’d lost count. She held that grudge like a tightly balled fist, clutched at her side and ready to swing at the slightest provocation. 

Her anger at Blythe had never subsided, even nearly two years later. Instead, it changed. It was a malleable thing, shifting into something new every time she saw the other. Which was, in her own humble opinion, too fucking often. For the other to have no been on her radar for more than a decade, no more than a little blip, she sure had found a way to be Orion’s own personal iceberg. Always on a collision course, damage to be determined. It came down to one thing — betrayal. Blythe had, above all, betrayed her. Orion didn’t care about her own role in their nasty blow out, but the state of Arizona did. There was a record of her indiscretions, laid out before a judge. The punishment had been more than lenient, but that didn’t matter. There was no record of Blythe being Boot Hill PD’s bitch at the cost of their relationship. Orion’s one good thing — her own hopeful thing, and the other woman was willing to implode it over some ADD meds. 

 Her lips curved into a sardonic smile as she finally looked back over at the other. “You think you deserve the best I’ve got?” She asked, voice so saccharine sweet, so sincere, that she may as well have been asking Blythe how a vacation was. She took one last drag from her cigarette, turning her head to the side to exhale. She let the butt fall, crushing it neatly beneath her boot before discarding it into the coffee cup. She generally was careless, but she wasn’t about to trash her own hideout in this town. “Well now officer, after your little display last night, some people might speculate I was pushed. ‘Blythe has always been terribly hostile to that poor Orion girl.’” She said with a feigned pout, poor imitation of a southern accent filling the latter half of the sentence. She wasn’t fooling anyone there — their hostility has always been had a one-to-one correlation. You hit first, I’ll hit back. Their matches would occasionally be suspended, but the game was never over, even if the ball hovered in the air for a little while. That, and no one would ever describe her as ‘that poor Orion girl.’ ‘That bitch at the bar,’ maybe. ‘She told me to fuck off then did shots with me.’ Meanwhile, from her perspective, Blythe was usually the Belle of the Bar. “Besides.” She started, stretching her legs toward the ledge and wrinkling her nose. “Can’t let those jail cells city empty. Someone’s got to make you earn your paycheck.” She hummed. “That, and you’d miss me too much.” It was meant to be a dig — but Orion would be damned if she didn’t know with every part of her that it was true.

[hartorion]

RAMIRA REYES

@boothillstarters​

“i’m sorry–there’s no uber?” ramira’s face fell and she let out an exasperated sigh. “my rental car died today when i tried to go into the city to go to the apple store, because–for some reason–my laptop isn’t charging and now i can’t even make it across town for lunch?” small town life may have been as quaint as she’d hoped, but it was already difficult to adjust to. no uber. no 24 hour delivery. no apple store. no wonder stephen king’s bibliography took place in small town new england; she was sure this was hell. “i could really use a ride to drug store, though, if you’re able. i’ve got some stuff to pick up and i’d even buy you lunch at the cantina or pizza place as a thank you !” desperate for some midol and hoping that maybe there’d be a laptop charger or something there in all the odds and ends, she figured forking out lunch to a stranger was more than worth the cost. “plus, i’d love to see if that auto shop is open on sundays, so i can get my rental repaired.” with all the weird little earthquakes that happened in this town, she was not comfortable walking all the way across town, even if they seemed harmless enough. “this place is super cute, but walking around by myself kinda gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

Fucking tourists. Orion’s irritation at the woman’s gripes was evident in a barely contained eye roll and the impatient drumming of her fingers on her thigh. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you, dude. This isn’t New York City or some shit — you could throw a fuckin’ rock and it’ll land across town.” While her words were almost hostile, her tone wasn’t quite. It bridge on slight exasperation, but she would blame the fact that her coffee pot literally exploded in her hands this morning. She looked at the woman, considering the request. The drug store was on her way, but Orion’s was in a foul mood and she wasn’t feeling being a sounding board for someone whose day was, admittedly, going worse than hers. Now, her turn to sigh, she nodded. “Fuck it. Why not? I’m headed that way anyway.” Then, as an afterthought, she added, “Hope you’re good with a motorcycle.” At the last words, obvious shock flickered across Orion’s features. She let out a huff of bemused laughter, shaking her head. “Cute? This place is a shithole.” She said. A lifer with no intentions (or means) of ever leaving, Orion had no room to talk. For all she knew, this woman wasn’t here by choice, either. It happened that way — people rolling through, stopping for gas, maybe a bite to eat. Somehow, those fifteen minute stops had a way of stretching in fifteen days, fifteen years. Arizona’s own little flytrap. “Where are you from?” 

[hartorion]

BLYTHE LANDRY

ORION + BLYTHE | closed starter for @hartorion​

For the past year, Blythe had taken solace in running. The moment that she got her brother’s goodbye note, all she wanted to do was run. To get out of the hell hole they lived in. She had no one else here. Everyone she loved left. It was only a matter of time that she disappeared too. So, every morning Blythe would wake up before the sun, put on her running shoes, and run. She ran to get out of her own head. To switch over the mental pain with a physical one. Everyone morning she would clock in two to ten miles. The length always depended on how much was running through her head and how much pain she was actually feeling. 

It was hard enough to actually get in over a few miles running in Boot Hill. There were only so many times Blythe could run the same loop over and over again in a morning. Half the time she’d adventure out into the open land the moment the sun started coming up. She’d test her luck with how far out she could actually get from the town before ending up back on Main Street. But, no matter how many miles and how badly her legs wanted to give out, she ended up in one place. Amen County Public Library. The roof of the town’s library had the best views of Boot Hill and the surrounding lands. The sight of the sun rise and sun set were to die for most days. It was funny. Growing up, Blythe never would have been caught dead inside that library. But, she spent her fair share sitting on top of it. There was a lot that was done up there. She took her first sip of alcohol there, kissed her first girl, and smoked her first cigarette. Blythe spent so much time just growing up and enjoying the view. 

Climbing the fire escape that she had climbed so many times before, Blythe pulled herself over the roof’s edge. Only to be greeted with the sight of her ex girlfriend, Orion. She should have known. It was a Saturday morning. Fridays were spent behind the bar flirting with everyone and anyone. Fridays were spent getting drunk and going home with the first option. It was their silent competition. The moment their eyes met in Coyotes, the game begun. Who could make who more jealous. Last night it got to the point that Blythe left early, completely alone. Which was why after twelve miles, she was standing on the roof to her favorite spot. Not to mention, just in her sports bra and short - shorts. What? It was hot in the Arizona desert.  

“You should really give that up.” Blythe spoke, seeing the embers of the cigarette glow and the smoke escaping Orion’s mouth. It was Blythe’s way of telling the woman that she was head over heels in love with that she still cared. There were so many way that Blythe said ‘i love you’ to Orion after their break up. The snide comments aside, there was something there. Three years with someone didn’t just go down the drain. They were stuck in this shitty town that they grew up in. There was no way either of them were getting out unless they literally died. But, that was a bit dramatic. The past year and a half, they had to coexist within the same streets. Seeing each other round every single corner. “Or don’t, my life would be easier if you just upped and died from lung cancer.” Blythe smirked, walking over to one of the empty chairs and taking a seat. 

There were so few secret places in small towns. So few places to really and truly hide, little pockets to find respite from the rest of the world. At least, the world as she knew it. Orion would know – half her childhood was spent combing Boot Hill for somewhere to consider her own, even if it was just for a fleeting moment when she needed to catch her breath. On rare occasions when her mother would come looking for her when she was a kid, she was always found. Given, those occasions were few and far between, and almost always because the older Ms. Hart needed something from her daughter, but that didn’t lessen Orion’s frustrations at being discovered. There was one bright and shining exception, though – the library rooftop. Early days spent meandering the aisles, subtly sliding a book into her bag and sneaking them to the rooftop, just enjoying the stillness of it. That was, when she still had respect for stillness. It was her place. Maybe it was her surprise the day she climbed up the old fire escape to find someone else sitting there that stopped her from laying into her unsuspecting company. For a moment, it felt like a violation. It was in Orion’s nature to stake her claim, to ward off this little intruder by whatever means necessary. For reasons she could never explain to herself or anyone else, she didn’t. Just like that, her place was their place. Perhaps it had always been Blythe’s solace, too — Orion had never asked. As comfortable as the other seemed there, though, they’d probably shared the space for years without a run-in. 

Orion never outgrew that rooftop, and she certainly wasn’t willing to concede it in their split. Their lives were so hopelessly tangled — not that there was much choice in the matter. Boot Hill was small. Her only hope of avoiding her ex was sequestering herself to her small apartment, and even then, this goddamn place would find a way to deposit the petite brunette down the hall. Besides, Orion was too stubborn to lose her footing. And in the year and a half since their split, Blythe was seemingly everywhere. Why would this place be any different? So much for a nice peaceful sunrise. Taking a long drag from her cigarette, she did her best to conceal her bristling at the familiar voice. She leaned back, lazily glancing over at the other. 

Quite the contrast they were in that moment — Blythe, almost fucking glowing under the Arizona sunrise, fresh off a run and not even having the decency to look shitty after. And Orion, last night’s eyeliner still smudged under her eyes, which she was sure betrayed her own exhaustion from the hour’s worth of sleep she’d managed before giving in to her insomnia and clamoring to the roof. Opposites in none of the ways that mattered, and the same in just enough ways to make them constantly at each other’s throats (whether that was with teeth, claws or lips was a whole other story). 

Heaving a sigh, she dragged her gaze (more reluctantly than she cared to admit) from the other woman back to the horizon. “C’mon now baby, we both know I’m not the quitter here.” She hummed, unmistakable edge to otherwise exhaustion-coated words. It was a half-hearted barb, at best. As if to prove her point, Orion took another drag, tapping the ashes into a long ago abandoned coffee cup. She let out a breath of laughter, shaking her head. She wrinkled her nose in disdain as Blythe settled in, though her posture almost perceptively relaxed. Just a small roll of her shoulders, the slightest tilt of her neck. “Has there been a crime reported here, deputy? Concerned citizen reporting a jumper?” She asked, as though she weren’t absolutely, willfully trespassing. Or was she? What were the rules on public property? By this point, she’d declared her own squatter’s rights on the place anyway. She looked back at Blythe, brow raised in a silent challenge.

[hartorion]

TALON ST. JAMES

Walking into Coyotes’ was rough. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Something was haunting his dreams and he couldn’t understand why for the life of him. Rather than toss and turn Talon found himself drinking and binge watching old classic films his grandparents had laying around their home until it was about that time to head back into work.

After dressing into the most basic of outfits, black jeans and a red plaid shirt, Talon drove his bike to the bar, driving a litte too fast, hoping to wake himself up. He nods at some co-workers as he goes straight for a glass of water, chugging it right before he takes a shot. Realizing there were a few customers around, including one watching him go through the motions absently, he smiles politely. “Hey.” He greets with a little rumble in his throat. “Can I get you anything?” He starts to clean up his area, preparing for the evening. [ open ]

The world where Orion ended up in Coyote’s when she wasn’t working wasn’t a world she wanted to live in — yet, here she was, pulling a stool up at the bar, expression nothing short of surly. It wasn’t an unfamiliar face, but at least she usually had the excuse of being on the other side of the bar. Tonight, though, the one night she had decided to actually sit and try to paint, ungodly screeches echoed throughout the Stagecoach. She could tune out noises with the best of them, but her own music didn’t touch the banshee sounds. So, half-covered in paint and half-running on frustration, she sought out the bar. 

“Whatever you just had. Honestly, Talon, I don’t give a fuck what it is, it’s perfect.” She grumbled, reaching toward a shot he hadn’t even poured yet. She’d never claimed to be patient. Then, noticing that he didn’t seem any more cognizant than she was, she tilted her head. “Long night? Would I be proud?” She asked, tone edging toward playful. 

[hartorion]

EMILIO CHAVEZ

Before coming back to Boot Hill, it wasn’t often that Emilio got a chance to go out and have a drink like this, but he had to get out of his apartment before he lost his god damn mind. His feet had carried him to the closest bar where he’d quickly occupied a stool at the counter. Nursing a beer, his second one for the night, he turned his attention to the person occupying the stool next to him. “I’ll put all of your drinks on my tab if you can just get a song to stick in my head that isn’t any of the songs off of the Mamma Mia soundtrack,” he nodded, the look on his face suggesting he was entirely serious. It seemed as if though his neighbor had just discovered the movie (and forgotten that the walls were paper thin in the process), and Emilio was almost ashamed to say he knew the entire soundtrack, word for word, by heart just from hearing it through the walls. “Any song at all.” / @boothillstarters​

For a moment, behind a wry, bemused grin, Orion was entirely conflicted. Two instincts warred with each other — the first, to double down on what was most definitely mentally agony for Emilio, and the second, to get out of paying her own bar tab. It was a tough call, but after a moment’s hesitation, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Just so you know,” she started, gesturing idly to him with her half-empty beer bottle. “This is some unfair shit. You know how hard it is to compete with ABBA? Even their worst songs are catchy.” She said. She had never seen either of the Mamma Mia’s, and that still hadn’t been enough to avoid the actual Mamma Mia. She chewed her lower lip, trying to rack her brain for the last song she’d spent the day idly humming. She took a drink, followed by a long breath, considering. “In West Philadelphia, born and raised...” she started, taking another drink to avoid actually going through the entirety of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. “Results may vary, but that’ll still cost you at least two drinks. Three, if you start singing Mamma Mia at me. Save that shit for your enemies.” 

[ishouldprobablydeletethis]

[ridleydaisy]

[bob-belcher]

[magiciansladies]

[dailypaddys]

[museidea]

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