Chiara looks for Dove at a party and is not doing well.
Slight canon divergence as she respects Doveās space during their time apart, but her feelings and other actions align.
Warnings: Alcohol use, very brief description of body checking.
Chiara grimaces after downing her drink, not caring if it worsens her headache. Her vacant eyes scan the room, glancing over pretty ribbons and ornate decorations amidst the soft lighting. Another time she might have admired the effort and presentation, but right now she feels nothing. Her head continues to pound with the irritating noise of conversation, wanting nothing more than to leave, lie down, and maybe just maybe, sleep for more than two fucking hours.
But she heard sheād be here. Even though Chiara was certain Dove wouldnāt want to speak to her, or even gave a shit for that matter. But for her own selfish reasons she had to see her. So sheād dragged herself out, making the most effort she had in weeks. Fixed braids into her hair that she miraculously didnāt mess up for a small sense of normality. Even that felt wrong but she kept them anyway.
Her eyes continue to scan the room, absently picking up a shot and pulling another face after knocking it back. Dove would like this. Her free hand subconsciously moves up to her neck, fingers running over her collarbone, pinching the area. She exhales through her nose as she puts the glass down forcefully, deciding to find water instead of more alcohol. Her teeth clench upon hearing her name. A strained smile - fuck off - making brief conversation sheās not taking in, using the first opportunity to excuse herself and head for the bar.
She almost makes it, before her head just happens to turn for her to notice a flash of pink in between the crowd. The back of her neck prickling as she comes more into view at the end of the room. Fuck. Chiara swallows hard at the lump forming in her throat. Dove must have sensed something judging from the shift in her body language, turning to look in her direction.
Chiara freezes at an unwanted memory when their eyes lock. How Doveās face looked the first time they saw each other. That insane feeing where the world stopped for a moment. The familiar ache in her chest returns of having once been in awe, how everything with her was comfortable and easy. Sheād never felt that good.
Now her face hardens at Doveās gaze as she moves towards her. Doveās eye widens, hers narrow. Burning from lack of sleep and more crying than she cares to admit. She stops in front of her, taking in the dark circle under her visible eye. Dove looks at her with an expression she tries not to read into. Body tense but not fully dismissive.
āHey Dove.ā Her voice thick and raspier than she hoped.
āHi.ā She hates how soft her voice sounds.
Her gaze shifts to glare down at the bracelet sheās wearing - the one that matches hers. She lifts a hand to brush her fingers against it because sheās not really thinking. Half registering Doveās wrist grazing her skin as it twists so their palms touch. Cold from poor circulation, more gentle than she deserves. Their eyes meet again, her vision blurring. She was supposed to give her space yet she couldnāt even do that. But Doveās not pushing her away either.
Ahh thank you I loved answering these!! (ask post)
1. Which oc has the greenest thumb?
Chiara and Dove love being outdoors and hope to have a garden one day. Both have indoor plants and get excited if their friends ask them for help on a project, or water their plants when away lol.
7. Which oc laughs the loudest?
Reiko and unnamed gorgon oc who rarely laugh in the early days of their stories. But when they do, you know itās them. Reikoās embarrassed at first after not laughing for so long and forgot how it felt. Gorgonās probably sounds kinda scary, gonna have a think on that :>
11. Which oc is the least happy with their appearance?
Chiara again. Sheās insecure about her facial features and body/chest area, got bulled because of it when others bodies where changing. Maybe compensates with piercings, and enjoys dressing fashionably with different hairstyles despite this.
Willa lets out a sigh as she checks the time on her phone, leaning her head back against the radio station building. Reiko would be out soon and she couldnāt help her impatience to see her. Even though they saw each other most days. And itās not as if she was finishing late, more so the fact that Willa arrived early. By circumstance, not desperation.
She digs into her bag to pull out a can of cold coffee, snapping the lid open and taking a swig. Itās supposed to taste like ass but Willa likes it to an extent. The streets are empty save for the odd stray, and people returning from a night out or shift. Like herself and Reiko. Her eyebrows furrow as her fingers tap against the can impatiently.
About halfway through her coffee she hears the station doors open. Reiko and a few other vampires emerge, laughing about something she canāt make sense of. Save for Reiko who just looks attentive. She waits for them to finish talking and go their separate ways before making her way forward.
Reiko must have heard her coming because she turns to face her, eyes intense and beautiful as always. Willa smiles warmly, tossing her can in the direction of a bin nearby. It bounces off the side and she disposes of it swiftly to focus all her attention on her.
āLooks like youāre getting on with everyone,ā Willa beams, showing her teeth.
āTheyāre not unpleasant,ā Reiko fixes the end of her glove, playing with the material.
Discomfort flashes across her features before defaulting back to her usual blank expression. Willa presses her lips together, wondering if she shouldāve gone over. She was trying to give her space. Next time, she thinks as she adjusts the strap on her bag.
āHow are you finding it? Really?ā
āI like the work, the stories we report are interesting - āfreshā, as my boss says. Everyoneās making an effort, I can tellā¦ just being around so manyā¦ā
Willa frowns as she trails off, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her shoulder.
āI get it. It takes time to build that trust.ā She grits her teeth for a moment, shaking off a memory. Donāt go there. āIāll come meet you next time, properly I mean. So youāve got something to look forward to.ā
Reiko blinks at her, feeling her cheeks heat up and surprised to see Willaās changing colour too. That was a joke, right? It didnāt sound like a joke. Reiko brushes the sides of her hair to check theyāre framing her face. She glances over at Willa who appears to be digging in her bag.
āCoffee?ā Reiko manages in an unsteady voice foreign to her, clearing her throat. She always has coffee with her.
āYeah,ā Willa laughs nervously, pulling another can out which earns a frown in response.
āI donāt know how you can still drink that.ā Willa shrugs, cheeks still a mix of pink and purple. Reiko puffs her cheeks and exhales loudly. āLetāsā¦ go to that place - the one close to here. Crimson, was it? Save you drinking that shit.ā
Willa snorts. āItās its own quality, Rei-ko-chan.ā She drops the can back in her bag at the last syllable. āUnfortunately I have to agree their drinks do in fact taste better.ā
āUnfortunately,ā Reiko rolls her eyes, making a mental note to ask her about it some time, because it smells anything but pleasant. Just like the cigarette smoke which is even worse. How does she not feel sick?
Reiko pockets these thoughts for another time. When they know each other better. When, she thinks in mocking optimism as she meets Willaās lazy grin, before falling in step together to head towards the city.
-
It doesnāt take long for them to reach the city. The usual shops and high rise buildings with multicoloured lights - things that Reiko still feels the novelty of. She had only dreamt of this view growing up in the countryside. Catching glimpses on the news or in magazines. Sometimes sheād mourn not being able to see it in the day before considering the noise, non-stop people and other intrusive thoughts appear that would make her lose her grip. This was her world now.
They move away from the lights down a couple of back streets, before reaching a traditional style cafe with a modern flair to it. The brighter lamps framing the entrance contrast enchantingly against the blood orange hues of the interior. A few plant pots with intricate patterns sit on either side, rounding off the soft look of the cherry blossoms along the window frames. It feels both welcoming and dangerous.
Willa opens the door for Reiko who fixes her dress before walking in with a thanks. She forgot the air was cooler in here, or maybe outside was warm. Sheās not really sure. A few other vampires are already seated, she notices as they head over to the counter. Any more and she might consider leaving.
Theyāre greeted by the barista who takes their order of two blood lattes, which is another novelty to Reiko. She watches the barista intently, trying to figure out the secret of how such a thing can exist. Willa bites back a laugh at her wide-eyed expression, unsmiling yet fascinated. This is the most emotive sheās seen her since the last time they came here, and before that when they first met. Her face falls a bit with the memory of the state she found Reiko in, and how quickly she seems to have accepted things.
Outwardly anyway. She snaps out of her thoughts as the barista returns with their drinks, aware her handās hovering over her neck scarf. Shit. Willa quickly moves to pay and thanks the barista, picking up the tray to busy her hands. Her strained grin is met with an accusatory stare from Reiko. Both of them sense the other is not telling them something.
āWhere would you like to sit?ā
Reiko makes a show of looking round despite knowing exactly where she wants to be. āOver there.ā
āGreat choice,ā Willa strides over to the small wooden table in the corner.
Reiko straightens and stalks over to her, replaying the movement of her hips. Thinking of all the things she wants to know about her. Why she does this, whatās the significance of that. Where did your mind go that time, Willa?
She sinks down into the chair opposite, her latte already placed her in front of her. Willaās given up on smiling and has that defeated expression she sometimes catches her with. She seems tired generally, but there are moments when itās as if itās too much to pretend? Reikoās noticed she touches her scarf during these times, and tends to brush things over when she comes back to reality. She often changes scarves so thatās not it. Thereās something else. Something heavier she canāt touch right now.
there's actually something to be said for flat colors. sometimes that's all u need. not everything needs to be rendered/fully shaded and drowned in textures or whatever. also related, sometimes a messy sketch is good enough too. sometimes it even looks better than your lineart. i guess it's all about what you want and what looks good....
chipping away at art in the backgroundā¦ I was thinking about doing a set, but Iām too impatient for that haha. not winning at colouring lately either, this rough patch overall sure is sticking but we persist
Part 23 of my Hurtcember 2024 series is now posted on a03!!
Summary + Preview:
Read Part 23 | Read from Part 1 | View entire series
It's a Yakuza/RGG fic, dealing with Daigo recovering from an injury accidentally inflicted by Saejima. Majima swaps out Daigo's bodyguards for his own men - my Yakuza OCs, the Majiboys! - to ensure his protection, and things snowball from there. Canon characters include Majima, Saejima, Daigo, Kiryu, and later on, Yayoi, among others.
many people ask 'how do i know my art is good enough to start a comic'. this is a very common mistake. you do not make a comic to make good art you make comics because its fun and looked yummy
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