LIONHEARTED

[kinlcyss]

williamah.

to see a genuine smile on will was a rare and fragile sight. but even when smiling will had a way of being somehow completely unreadable. nonetheless, he emits something effervescent, a glowing ball of subtle light even in moments of seeming completely unable to interpret. “ i think i’ve grown tired of people comparing people to things in the sky and things in the ground. ” will chimes in with a breathy laugh, his hands gesturing vaguely before he continues. “ you know what i mean, right ? so many writing pieces and poems i read lately have something to do with that. people compare their lovers to stars, planets, the sun, the moon, and clouds. or it’s flowers, trees, leaves, and grass. i see it all the time. it makes me wonder whatever happened in the middle to make people focus on just way up or way down. am i making any sense ? ” the boy laughs again, hues of honey brown squinting, his expression remaining content but wandering. “ i sound bloody mental, don’t i ? ”

“i think... to some extent i agree with that.” kinley begins, choosing her words carefully, mostly because this guy seems like the type of person to be under the impression his special snowflake thought processes are better than everyone else’s already. not that she’d say that -- unless she was asked. she could do with being asked. it’s just the conversation topic itself is a bit pretentious. “it’s overdone in a way, but other peoples’ creative expression isn’t for us to dictate. if it ain’t broken, don’t fix it kinda deal. unless one of your lovers is calling you a daisy or some shite?” she raises her eyebrows at him, not really in challenge, but in vague amusement. “i think you’re thinking too hard too, for the record. just let it be. in the middle? what does that even mean?”

[kinlcyss]

@vindefleur.

...so stop fucking whining and get over it. Kinley’s lips are pressed into a grim line of irritation, her fingers deliberately moving over the keys with the roiling storminess of her poor mood. She knows she can’t actually say this -- her readers wouldn’t be her readers for very much longer if she started speaking to them that way -- but there’s something oddly therapeutic about coping with their petty problems with the words she really wants to say appearing on her screen. She’ll leave it like that for a while before she inevitably is forced to erase it and start again, but for now she’s bringing a hand up to run through her hair and letting out an exasperated sigh. Casting her eyes over to her now cold cuppa doesn’t help very much.

It’s with a determined (if frustrated) huff that she pushes her chair back from the table she’s holed up at. She doesn’t actually have a shift today, but she often comes down to the little tea shop she works at just to get out of her flat and into an environment that makes her feel safe; on most days, that helps a lot with her doing her second job, which is offering advice to the people who write into the paper she works for. Today, there’s too much going on inside of her house for even this to settle her, and she fidgets with the sleeve of her hoodie as she waits for the one other customer to be finish their order.

That’s when there’s a sudden cold draft signifying the door has opened, and it’s automatic when Kinley’s head turns to see who’s arrived, her gaze coming to rest on a familiar face. A flutter in her chest betrays her even just to herself, and she shifts her stance slightly, trying to control the smile that threatens to break out over her face. She has a bit of an...odd relationship with Evelyn, to say the least. She’s never sure of herself when she’s around, never certain of what to make of the way she feels, of how her insides churn and she’s torn between turning around and running and holding out her hand. From the very first time they’d met, their relationship has been atypical, and even as they continue to get more certain of each other and grow closer, it doesn’t really have much definition.

She tries to catch her eye, and figures she will considering she’s stood right in her direct path, but otherwise, she makes no move to greet her. There’s a tiny quirk to the corners of her mouth. Just a little.

[kinlcyss]

so anyway i’m trying to rekindle muse for kinley because i do love her and i wanna do stuff with her??? yet i cannot find it in myself to do the replies i have. WHICH MEANS ! i need to build some real connections/plots with her as at this point i only have like? two i think? WHICH I LOVE BTW! but i need more so she can really be a functioning, present member of our little comm. on that note, hit the HEART if you’d be willing to plot something w her ♥

[thinfatfit]

Barbie Ferreira

[supercutaylor]

[kinlcyss]

roryhallahan.

It had been a long day. Rory hadn’t been able to fall asleep until almost two in the morning and two hours later, her cat, Milo, had decided that Rory’s bed was the perfect place to take a walk on. She hadn’t been able to get back to sleep and the only reason that she hadn’t completely crashed was because of all the coffee she had throughout the day. After she finished her classes, she had her shift at Page Turners Books which had surprisingly ended up not being too bad. The store was quiet, after all. It was finally time to close up but then she remembered. Someone had come into the store a couple hours ago and never left. She quickly walked the aisles  until she found the person reading in her favorite armchair. “Hey…” Rory murmured, trying to not scare the person. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m about to close the shop. Also, are you reading anything good?”

Losing track of time is sort of a cathartic thing for Kinley. Anywhere that she can go, anything that she can do that manages to take her mind off of the everyday stress of her life is good for her, which is what had her wandering into the shop today in the first place. She likes books. She doesn’t get a lot of time to read, but once she finally manages to sit down with one and let herself relax, she tends to get a bit caught up. That being said, restlessness has finally begun to settle in with her even before the presence of someone else finally has her eyes prying away from the pages, and she raises her gaze to the face of the person that had greeted her when she first came in a couple of hours ago. Huh. “It’s okay I guess.” She says it a tad dismissively, though it’s not necessarily how she means it to come off as she shuts it. She should probably think about actually making a purchase, but she won’t. “I was about to leave. Sorry t’be putting you out and shite -- didn’t mean to over-stay my welcome. Know the feeling myself.” When she does closing at the tea shop, there’s always that one person who won’t go.

[fleurjardin]

[kinlcyss]

“Shit.” Kinley mutters this under her breath, entirely to herself, and then casts her gaze over the people scattered about the little tea shop in which she works. She’s not actually on duty right now, but this is one of the quieter places for her to do her writing, and therefore she usually ends up settling here more often than not. “Hey,” She addresses someone, attempting to catch their attention by raising her voice a bit, “you mind answering a question for me?” She’s going somewhere with this, most likely.

[thinfatfit]

[kinlcyss]

lolvxnus.

she chuckled at the other’s comment, “excatly. yeah, i was getting a little carried away with that conversation.”

“there’s no such thing as getting carried away in that sense. just maybe try not to physically harm innocent bystanders in the future. not everyone is as good a mood as i am today.”

[kinlcyss]

winonahayes.

a long day at work and over twenty four hours with no sleep don’t exactly make for a happy winona, and as she yanks her hair out of the messy ponytail on the back of her head, the tiredness is clearly evident in her features. she’s not in the mood for anybody’s shenanigans, but a cup of coffee sounds absolutely glorious right about now. her feet, as always, seem to be several steps ahead of her - she’s already turning in the path of the diner before she even thinks of where she wants to go. as she walks, she suddenly realizes that blue moon is in the opposite direction of her apartment, and it takes everything in her to not groan out loud at the thought of having to go the extra distance. this is what you get for not wanting to buy a goddamn car. perhaps she could just get a taxi, or hitch a ride with someone getting off of their shift? 

the walk to blue moon is a lot quicker than she remembers it to be - that, or she’s just managed to tune everything out, as she often does - because suddenly she’s seated on a barstool, staring down at a menu. music hums in the background, and there are more people present than she expected, but she doesn’t hate it. in fact, the atmosphere is almost therapeutic in a way. she sees someone approach her from the corner of her eye, and before they can say anything, her order - “the blackest coffee you’ve got and french fries, please” - comes tumbling from her mouth. 

the blackest coffee you’ve got sounds a bit pretentious. the thought passes through her mind as she looks up from her phone towards the person who’s sat down just in front of her, brown eyes flitting from the stool she had previously occupied up to her face. it’s not like she owns it or something, it’s just that it was probably still warm from her bum when it was commandeered, and her lips are pressing together into a line as she contemplates how to proceed from here. kinley hasn’t exactly been in the best spirits lately, but she’s not planning to come off as rude regardless. at the very least, she uses a bit of amiable sarcasm. 

“great, but i don’t work here, unfortunately, love.” there’s a touch of wry humor buried somewhere in the statement, scottish accent coming through loud and clear. she doesn’t exactly want to make her feel as dumb as she sounds, but hey, some things translate without intention. kinley moves to perch on the stool just to her left, needing to make her order herself now that she’s visited the restroom.

[fleurjardin]

[kinlcyss]

lolvxnus.

“ did you know that we actually live like 80 MILLISECONDS in the past? because that’s how long it takes our brains to process information. so, basically, our bodies are in the present while our brains are in the past. so sometimes you just gotta think — is time even r e a l? or do you think it’s just a construct that helps us understand the complexity of the UNIVERSE? pretty rad and fascinating stuff if you ask me.” venus rambled into her phone with her telescope in tow. with her head full of plans to stargaze and wondering where to set up, she didn’t notice the telescope accidentally bumping someone, “oh my gods, i gotta go. i just BUMPED into someone!” she said speedily into the phone before rushing to help. “ are you alright? i’m so s o r r y; i totally should’ve been paying more attention. ”

there’s a small shock of surprise at the feeling of someone bumping into her, or rather at the feeling of someone’s telescope bumping into her, apparently. at least kinley can say that there really is a first time for everything, and this can be chalked up onto that particular list for her. “ -- it’s fine.” she means it, her gaze going from the item up to the face of her assailant and lingering for a few moments before she drops it down to her shoulder. she’s not much for eye contact lately, and her own shoulders draw in a little as she takes a small step back, away from her. and away from potential harm. “i mean, it happened at least eighty milliseconds ago, so... i’m kind of over it. ancient history, y’know.” she hasn’t meant to listen in on the conversation. it just sort of happened. kinley’s brain takes full advantage of any and all processing time, and she tends to absorb details other people might overlook.

[kinlcyss]

“so.” kinley’s got all but her face covered. it’s tactical at best, a safety measure at worst, though certainly not for herself; there’s just something about showing off certain things to her best friend that she isn’t particularly interested in. call it a too deeply ingrained defense mechanism. call it ridiculous. he’ll know, more than likely, before the night ends. “tell me about how it went.” she can tell there’s something off with him tonight, and she doesn’t want to force him to divulge whatever it might be, but careful prompting never hurt anybody. she can’t be blamed for immediately assuming it has something to do with christmas and the adoption, despite the text message he’d sent her conceding to the fact that she is (re: as always) correct on that whole thing. / @nevandy

[kinlcyss]

ohhhcharlie.

“you wouldn’t think so, considering how great a server i am,” charlie replied with a laugh, “but no, it was yours truly. i was clearing away a table near a family of four. thought i had a good grip on the plate but then, it goes flying to the floor.” and because it was kinley, charlie didn’t mind adding cheekily, “breaking plates. honest mistake. got in trouble for the curse word i yelled out though. in front of the children, mind you.” 

“ooo, was it a bad one? like, there are degrees of curse words, charles. ya’ve got the ‘damn’ level or the ‘bleedin’ fuckin’ fiery shit’ level, and i think we both know which one is preferably around children.” kinley, for whatever it’s worth, seems a great deal more amused at this than she should be. 

[fleurjardin]

[kinlcyss]

freyahart.

“so,” freya begins between sips of tea, trying  to stop her face from scrunching in distaste  at the lack of sugar in it — two is not  enough. “what are your plans for christmas ?”

“peeling my da off the floor more than likely and hoping he stays awake for when gran is here.” she deadpans it, sounding less than pleased about the conversation topic. kinley isn’t much for the holidays. not at all. not to be a grinch, it’s just that she hasn’t had a good one in years.