unwritten.

Maya Baxter | 29 Author / Editor

[mayabaxter]

della-slade​:

“Isn’t dark humor the worse? And yet I get the feeling that it’s the only type of humor that life seems to know. You’d think after all these years life would have found a different way to teach us a lesson but nope. I guess if you find something that works then you should just stick with it,” She jokingly rolled her eyes. Life had taught her many lessons. What it was trying to teach her right now she had no idea. “I guess there’s still a few lucky people on this island that wasn’t effected because of everything that happened.” Della was the first to admit that she was a bit jealous of people like that. Unfortunately half the island had something happen to them because of what happened at the wedding. “Well honestly you may have been gone for ten years but I don’t think things really have changed that much. Still the same old people doing the same old stuff.” And yet Della loved it here. “Actually I’m not getting paid at all. I’m volunteering for these runs. I figured it’s my way to help out.”

“It does put things into perspective though, I’ll give it that and nothing else.” Maya nodded along as the woman spoke, finding herself agreeing with the things being said. Writing was the thing she stuck with but was that something that worked? Not lately, and she knew the current situation would push her back further, it shouldn’t but it will, her mind seemed to pick up on anything little thing to steer her focus away. “I completely agree, it really hasn’t changed one bit. I thought a decade was a long time, I certainly changed, but Catalina, nope, right down the sand grains, it’s still the same as ever.” And Maya hated it. “Volunteering? Well, that’s really nice of you, there are good people here after all.”

[mayabaxter]

della-slade​:

“I guess you only miss something when it’s gone. Before this I never went to the mainland. Just kept to doing tours around the island and now I’ve seen LA more than I’ve ever wanted to,” She joked. Della had lived on the island her whole life and loved it. It was rare for her to go to LA or San Diego or one of those other coastal cities. At least she only stuck to the harbor when she was there. She sighed, “I’m guessing you don’t depend on the tourist then to make a living? That’s good for you but bad for the rest of us. Not like the locals here are lining up to take a tour of the island. Plus it’s summer so I don’t have any school groups to take out either.” With any luck the ferries would be up and running soon and she’d be back in business. “Emergency runs. Mainly medical. One lady had a transplant scheduled in LA. Another had to get to their mother who just had a heart attack in San Diego .”

“That was what I was thinking too,” she said with a deep sigh, “Life sure does have a funny way of teaching you a lesson. Though I don’t appreciate this kind of dark humour.” Except, all the lessons she had been taught from life were filled to the brim with dark humour, at least that wasn’t out of trend. Maya shook her head at the question, “Nope, I guess I am lucky in that sense, especially now considering all of this...” Maya always complained about the tourists but she never realised just how many there actually were until the streets thinned from the lack of crowds, nor did she realise just how much this island depended on tourism. It didn’t take long for Maya to put the two together, after a beat in consideration, she bounced her shoulders in a nonchalant shrug, “I’ll take a tour if you’re up for it,” she said, “I mean I’m a local and all, but I haven’t lived here in over 10 years, maybe this town became less boring throughout the years.” A silent challenge to be proved wrong. “From tours to medical runs, damn, I hope you’re getting paid extra for this.”

[mayabaxter]

della-slade​:

Della laughed, shaking her head at her question. “Sorry to say it but no. That doesn’t count as an emergency. If it did then I’m sure a good portion of this island would be leaving right now.” She hadn’t realized just how much they depended on the ferries until they were gone. More people than she knew commuted to and from the mainland for work. Plus since they lived on an island there were certain things you could only get from the main part of Cali and not on Catalina. The fact that a lot of their businesses depended on the tourists who visited the island was making a big impact on their economy as well. “Next time I make a run you’re welcome to come along. I’m done for the day though. No way in hell can I go again today. I’m too tired for that.”

“Well, I do love being right.” Except right now, Maya hated it, wishing more than anything that she had the opportunity to leave, even for just a bit. “Yeah, I suppose that’s true,” she nodded, a rare twinge of sympathy brushed over her, for others in her position who also wanted to leave this chaos behind, but like her, they were stuck too. “It’s funny when the ferries were fully functioning, I found every excuse to not go to the mainland, but now, it’s all I want.” She made sure to let her place of work know about this situation, and like the boy who cried wolf, they absolutely did not believe her - until a google search, something she exactly couldn’t blame them for. “Though,” she spoke again, interrupting her own thoughts with this lightbulb discovery, “This will stop the tourists, for a while at least.” A silver lining among the bleak clouds. “So, how come you’re allowed to make runs back and forth?” she asked.

[mayabaxter]

della-slade​:

For: @catalinastarter​ Where: Catalina Marina  When: Tuesday, June 23rd

Della had been busy since the wedding. With the ferries trashed she was working with the island government by making emergency runs to the mainland. It didn’t pay well. In fact it didn’t pay anything but at least it was something to do. She had savings so she knew she could make it a couple months without doing tours but hopefully the ferries were up and running before that. If they weren’t she’d think about what she’d do then. Right now she was trying to be hopeful. Sitting on the dock by her boat, she opened her eyes when she heard someone approaching. “If you need to go to the mainland I’m only doing emergency runs there. Sorry.”

Stranded was not a feeling Maya liked, even if her trips to the mainland were few and far between, she now, more than ever, wished to leave this place behind. You don’t know what you got till it’s gone. Wide-open spaces nor the calming ocean breezes could shake the claustrophobic feeling she felt since that night ended and announcements of ferries closures came through. Going to the wedding had been a mistake, but how big she couldn’t even attempt to guess. Arson, fights, all in the name of love? It was laughable had it not left a trail of destruction in its wake. Not even a walk seemed to calm her thoughts, and she failed to register someone speaking until the world mainland hit her. Hope fluttered but quickly vanished once her mind caught up, “I'm gonna take a stab in the dark and say me wanting to leave because I don't want to be here, doesn't count as an emergency.”

[mayabaxter]

luciancarterx​:

The reply that Lucian received wasn’t one that they were expecting, nor was it from someone they were expecting either. In fact, the surprising response very nearly caused them to spit their drink everywhere —- not exactly the look they were going for tonight. Taking a moment to compose himself again, he lowered his drink, letting his gaze drift over to Maya, discretely giving her the once over. it had been a while since they’d seen one another, in fact, he couldn’t quite pinpoint when the last time actually was. “To be fair, I hadn’t actually seen you until just now…” he supplied, although he doubted that excused all that much. 

“The sentiment is mutual.” Though Maya was comforted by the fact her appearance was an equal surprise, she couldn’t savour the feeling. Small world and smaller island, her feelings about running into familiar faces were still on the fence. But as common as familiar faces were around these parts, Lucian was not a face she was ever hoping to run into after leaving LA, even if they had ended on amicable terms, meeting exes would forever and always have an air of awkwardness surrounding it. “So…” she drawled, “What brings you here? How do you know the happy couple?”

[mayabaxter]

charlie-ansel​:

Who: @mayabaxter​ Where: Wedding When: Dinner

The randomness of the table seating was more than a little uncomfortable, if Charlie was being honest. He was hoping to be able to sit with Daphne or Della, but he was also grateful that he hadn’t ended up at a table with Ethan. And he immediately felt like shit as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He visibly relaxed, smile stretching across his lips when Maya sat down beside him. He was not looking forward to awkward conversations with strangers alone.

“You’re always dressed up every time I see you. Start to make a guy wonder if you’re doing that for me,” he teased, signing as he spoke. “We never did get to finish our game the last time.”

Maya wished she could say she was in a sea of strangers, but the couple and the entirety of the island they had invited offered little unfamiliarity, but of course, that was to be expected for an event such as this. The mess-up of the seating arrangement had not bothered her, never having paid much attention to it there was little to be annoyed by, a seat was a seat for her. The transition from cocktail hour to dinner was rather smooth and the awkwardness she had felt moments prior upon encountering a familiar face dissolved into a warm smile as she slid into the chair next to a friendly face, taking comfort in the fact that this conversion would indeed be a more pleasant one. 

“You always catch me at fancy events, makes a girl wonder if you only want to see her all dolled up,” she replied smoothly, “We didn’t, no, though might be trickier here, no masks and all, do we brave round two?”

[mayabaxter]

luciancarterx​:

For: @catalinastarter​ Time: 6:15pm

Lucain very quickly realised they shouldn’t have come today when he went in search of a seat at the ceremony and found himself unceremoniously sandwiched between two clients, neither of whom had idea the other had used his services at some point over the last six months, but were clearly good friends. After spending an hour and a half awkwardly chatting and pretending like he knew neither one of them, he’d headed straight for the cocktails, downing two quite easily before attempting to converse with anyone else. “Do you know anyone here? Like really know anyone?” they asked the person beside them, looking over the rim of their glass at them a second later. “Because this is feeling like a sea of strangers to me right now…”

Maya reminded herself she was here for the food and drinks, Tinsley too, but being the bride she was rather preoccupied, leaving Maya to focus back on the food and drinks. An open bar held lots of promises and they had a good selection too, she’ll give them that, and so, as she was deciding between two fancy looking things she hadn’t tried, an extremely familiar voice reached her ears. The question wasn’t aimed at her, but she turned her attention towards them anyway, a blast from the past, one she wasn’t expecting to collide with, here of all places. The logical thing would be to ignore and move along, pretend to have never seen him --- and there was a chance too, he hadn’t seen her yet --- but of course, she was three drinks down and somewhat buzzed, rational decisions were a thing of the past and regrets for the future. Placing herself directly in their line of sight now, Maya, slowly sips on her drink, “Are you including me in this sea of strangers?”

[mayabaxter]

cianxveri​:

As a general rule, Cian avoided small towns for a few reasons. The main one being that everyone knew each other. And because everyone knew each other, neighbors were overly nosy, and overly friendly when someone new moved in. But as much as it annoyed him, he had practice at putting on a polite smile and playing the part of the friendly new neighbor come to town. When the doorbell rang, he wasn’t expecting anyone. But he’d also already had a couple neighbors come over to welcome him to the neighborhood, so it wasn’t all that far out of left field.

What he hadn’t expected to open the door to was a smiley young woman asking for a cup of sugar. His smile turned curious, his eyes darting around behind her as if expecting something…. else. People didn’t actually ask their neighbors for sugar, did they? The store wasn’t that far away, unless she didn’t have a car. Even so, the amount of extroverted energy that it took to go and ask a stranger for sugar rather than going to the store completely escaped him. “Are you serious?” He asked, offering a short, surprised laugh at her query. “Depends, how good are the brownies?”

His confusion was met with her own confusion, "Of course I'm serious," she retorted, "Why else would I do this?" Maya was extremely aware of how odd this was, and if she gave a shit she would stop, but she didn't, besides it was far too late for second thoughts, anyway. She had expected questions along the range of; how much or what kind, (because she knew these rich folks stocked themselves with all kinds), she, however, wasn't expecting to be questioned on her baking abilities.

Biting back any sarcastic responses was out of the question, try as she may, all the answers that formed were outdoing themselves on the ridiculous scale, "I'd put grandmothers to shame," she said with convincing ease, and with seriousness out the window, Maya gave him a toothy smile, "I won best junior baker in the 7th grade, it's only been up from there," she said trying not to crack under her own lie, and what a lie it was! If her Home Economics teacher was around she'd surely have a nice laugh, but he didn't need to know that, unnecessary questions deserved unnecessary answers, "Tell you what, how about I bring you back some so you can try them yourself?"

[mayabaxter]

arthurkanemoto​:

Arthur releases his grip on the guy, panting, hands up in surrender. A careful eye trained on his opponent, though at this point, he’s sure the guy is too terrified to move another inch. Already, patrons are taking out their phones, wide-eyed, wondering who will call the cops first, until the bar manager steps up, a hushed and worried tone into the receiver, and Arthur backs to the entrance, palms still up.

“All right, all right,” he shouts, sounding more annoyed than concerned. Hell, he’d been written up by the cops more times than he can count, but the thought of having to weasel his way out of a charge from this guy requires more energy than he can currently muster. “I’ll fucking leave, okay?” The magnitude of what he’s done hits him a mere half-second later; the quiet night he’d been expecting had inevitably been ruined by his temper, but too much of a coward to surrender to the blame, he points to Maya, his scapegoat for the night. “And she’ll leave too, all right?” After all, she isn’t totally clear from the blame. Not a tiny bit. What had she said again? Stay down, you little shit? A better mood, and Arthur would’ve chuckled at the thought.

Fortunately, there is a park nearby, a lone bench perched in the middle of it. He flops down onto it (strange, how the drunkenness is immediately magnified by tenfold once away from the bar), pulling out a cigarette. He’s smoking too much these days, but lately, too many situations have been calling for it. A quick flick of his lighter before he speaks again, eyes focused on her face. “You good?”

Words pile up in protest when he states she’ll leave too, a quick inhale as she prepares to speak, but her mind is quicker and clamps her mouth shut to prevent any thoughts from being voiced. No, he was right in saying she should leave, even if she didn’t start this mess, she had a hand in its escalation, so, fine, she’ll be the bigger person this time. 

Maya silently collects her things making a mental note to never step foot in this bar again, the drinks were shit anyway. Adrenaline fueled by the fight and alcohol long stopped coursing through her veins, the dull thuds from her hands echoed in her head, sharply prompting her to lightly massage her temples as she follows Arthur out. The sudden chill of the night air did nothing to help ease the ache, but it was refreshing and extremely better than the stagnant air of the bar. Maya all but collapses onto the bench, the entire ordeal was a roller-coaster ride; the thrilling highs of the punches and the gut-churning lows of watching the creep get up again and again, but now that she was finally off the damn ride, her mind worked overtime to replay the events and break them down because she always had been; a do first, think later, damn the consequences kind of person. 

Further dissections on this matter were cut short when he speaks, words breaking her thoughts and the silence that had built up around them. "Mhmm," she mumbles, "Just infinitely more sober. You?" As Maya turns to meet his gaze, all her thoughts shift too, a million questions race through her mind about her partner in crime, "Where did you learn to fight like that?”

[mayabaxter]

kcvey​:

STATUS: open / @catalinastarter​ WHERE: Catalina Art Gallery WHEN: early afternoon

In an attempt to get inspired, Karl goes to the most obvious place he could possibly choose — the art gallery. It’s not that out of the ordinary for him anyway, it’s probably one of his favorite locations to spend the day at, and he has, many times before. Even if Karl knows the gallery like the back of his hand, he can spend hours upon hours, time and time again, staring at the same artwork he usually does. And it’s always better with company. 

They stand in front of a Hans Hoffman painting that Karl particularly likes, though a lot of people usually don’t understand why. He’s not all that sure himself and his answers vary every single time someone asks him about it. It still draws him in whenever he’s here. “I think it’s the colors. The blues are my favorite,” he says. That’s barely an answer, really, but maybe today he can’t offer any better. “I used to have something like this taped to my bedroom wall when I was a kid. Cut it out a second-hand art history book my mom got us. So maybe it’s—you know, sentimental and shit.”

Maya, being a creator and a connoisseur of the written word, on occasion did appreciate a good visual, be it a movie, a tv show or something from a different medium, she had no qualms in letting her imagination ease up for the day and treat her eyes to something rather than picturing it for herself. And, that was how she found herself in the art gallery this early afternoon, eyes drifting between paintings, hoping inspiration sprung forth from careful brush strokes. She was more than happy to roam around herself, but for the last three paintings she had visited, a face kept popping up next to hers. Deciding against brushing them away, Maya allowed herself this company, somehow preferring it to complete silence.

But it was when they stop in front of this particular one, Maya tilts her head this way and that way, even squinting to find some hidden meaning, and when words are spoken, Maya raises her own question because she can’t help but judge both the painting and the man who said it was his favourite. “The blues?” she questions again, though this time her tone is laced with light laughter, “Are you sure a kid didn’t draw this? Not to rip on sentiment here, but it’s a bit shit.”

[thehopefulquotes]

Hoping for the best, prepared for the worst, and unsurprised by anything in between.

— Maya Angelou, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

[mayabaxter]

clarissaarcheron‌:

Clarissa wasn’t sure she’d ever heard Maya speak this openly about the details of her life. She was usually a relatively closed-off person, but clearly the need to discuss it had overcome that typical behaviour of hers. Because of that, she didn’t dare interrupt her while she was working through her thoughts instead she simply sat back and listened, taking in every detail and noting the important points that she reminded herself to question further once she’d paused. It became obvious that Maya really did care for Noah - and she knew it was Noah she was talking about before she’d even mentioned it - the combination of her concerns and her joys about spending time with him was a tell-tale sign that it was more serious than a simple fling. That they had feelings for one another.

“Of course I remember Noah.” The woman commented, trying her hardest to hide the pleased grin that was threatening at her lips as she replied. She found way too much enjoyment in the fact that Noah and Maya were just as adorable as each other when they were talking about their relationship. “I don’t think you have to worry about him not feeling the same way, in fact, I have it on good authority that he’s just as enamoured with you as you are with him.” More often than not she found herself in the role of wing woman, and she was working her hardest with her friends to ensure that something positive came out of this. They both deserved that. “As for you not being good with like and love, it’s never too late to explore that. You need to allow yourself the chance to delve into that without constantly worrying about the worst outcome.” Clarissa was no expert in commitment, but she did know something about seizing the moment when it presented itself. Her own relationships were more eventful than ever at the moment, so discussing Maya’s was a welcome relief. “How did you two start speaking with one another again? Did you just happen across each other in the street or is there more to it than that?”

Maya fell back onto the couch unceremoniously, of course, she remembered Noah, hard to not remember who he was. This was fine she concluded, at least now, she didn’t have to start this tale from the very beginning. Just as her mind began to ease into it, she snapped forward, squinting her eyes in Clarissa’s direction, trying to find the meaning behind her words, “Wait, what do you mean you have good authority?” It took two seconds after the words left her for a lightbulb to flicker above her head, “Oh my god,” she all but screamed, “You met him! And... talked about me?” That shouldn’t shock her as much since she was doing the very same thing, but the way her heart picked up pace told a different story. Her claims of acting like a teenager were proven time and time again, because now, Maya wanted to know, in excruciating detail, what they had spoken about, but she held her tongue for the time being at least, to know he felt similarly stooped all rational thought. 

“Worst outcomes are what I do best.” There was irrefutable truth to her words but Maya worked in the negatives, a creature of pessimism and cynicism, an optimistic outlook was not a part of her skill set. How could she explore such a topic when her brain will diverge into the land of what-ifs at moments notice? She couldn’t hope for good things without question its intention tenfold. Maya shook her head and filed those thoughts for later, deciding to address the question at hand seemed like a better idea than getting stuck in her head, “Country Club, actually,” she clarified, “School too, but mostly at the Club. He was the lifeguard on duty and I was trying to escape my mother’s clutches, she wanted me to interact with her friends or someone I didn’t care for...he kinda saved me from a terrible headache, and well, the rest is history.”

[mayabaxter]

noah-morrell‌:

Location: Noah’s house Time: 6pm For: @mayabaxter​ ‘Alexa, play…’ : My Motown Classics Playlist

After having Clarissa over to start planning the fundraiser, Noah had learned that cleaning was a lot more bearable when you had good music to clean to. As he swanned around the house - or as much as a man with wrought iron muscles could swan, anyway - the boy brushed, dusted, tidied and generally spruced up the house wherever he could, whilst also wondering how such a tidy person who was barely ever in the house and who lived alone could make so much mess. Nevertheless, he wanted to show Maya how put together he was now and despite the fact he couldn’t exactly prove that mentally at the moment, he could prove it physically by his surroundings. 

Once he’d finished cleaning, he set about his meal prep, feeling like he was on one of those shows where you invited people round to judge your house and your cooking. A grateful sigh escaped his mouth as he chopped various different vegetables and seasoned the meat, it was a good job he’d learned some new skills working at Robin’s Barbecue, given that he’d not really needed to cook much during his army years. He also mentally predicted that Maya would be glad to find out that he hadn’t cooked her a pineapple pizza, despite the fact that doing so would’ve been a whole lot easier.  But nevertheless, he wanted to make the effort. The two had known each other when they were kids, no less. It was time to show that he’d upgraded from notes in her country club locker and a sandwich-crisp-drink meal deal on the hidden part of the green at lunchtimes. 

Once everything was set to cook, Noah headed upstairs to print off his menu and get a shower. Perhaps it was a little, ‘extra’, some might say, to create a menu and print it off for a catch-up night in, but this was all part of his plan. Extra was required when you wanted to prove you were serious about someone. As he stood with his towel around his waist, fresh out of the shower, the man admired his menu cards. “Maya’s Menu,” it read at the top in a fancy-French-looking font. Underneath, it listed the contents of the starter, main course and dessert and Noah couldn’t help but feel that his high-school-learnt skills on Word had served him well as he analysed his creation. With a confident nod, the boy took the menus downstairs and laid them out on the table, which he’d adorned with a vase of roses and glasses ready for wine. But as he stood and regarded the table, he couldn’t help but begin to feel that he might’ve slightly over-done it. Maya was probably genuinely expecting a pizza night in with some wine and a good bit of TV, nevermind a three course meal with menu cards and Noah in his dried and pressed three piece suit. He felt his heart sag as feelings of worry began to wash over him, his brain trying desperately to imagine what she’d say. His eyes darted to the clock amid his panic and with only 20 minutes till Maya was set to arrive, the boy gathered up the roses and the menu cards and stashed them in a cupboard, before running upstairs with his heart in his throat. 

A little calmer, following his moment of insecurity, Noah’s eyes fell on himself through the mirror. He’d gone for a more casual, but still smart, outfit, one that said, I’ve made an effort but ….. lost my balls five minutes before you arrived. Noah cursed as his brain threw dashings of self-consciousness at him. Get your shit together, Noah, he spoke to himself firmly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of any negative thoughts. Taking a deep breath, the boy finished with some aftershave and headed downstairs, asking Alexa to play his motown playlist once again to ease his nerves.  

When he heard a knock at the door, he suddenly felt as if his breath was getting tangled on the way out of him. God. He hadn’t stopped thinking about Maya since they’d bumped into each other on the beach and because of that, this, felt huge. The boy blew out his cheeks as he calmly attempted to walk over to the door, tea towel thrown over his shoulder. His hand gripped the door handle and there she was. His eyes seem to brighten just at the sight of her, his nerves seemed to settle a little in his stomach but he had no doubt at all that they were still very much there. “Welcome to Casa Del Noah,” he announced, his lips curved into a falsely confident smile.

Maya didn’t need to clear out her entire schedule but she did, unable to focus on anything else meant it was futile to fill her day with any sort of activity other than preparing herself to meet Noah. Always the one to plan in advance Maya was struggling today, she didn’t know what to expect and that threw her off more than anything. Nervous energy surrounded her as she paced around her room. The equal mix of excitement and anxiety made her smile like an idiot and shot hopes of her heartbeat ever finding a normal rhythm to hell and beyond. She knew there was no reason to be nervous, this was Noah but again this was Noah. The boy she knew, one she grew up with, dated, fell in love, first one to show her what true happiness was like. Nerves were valid she concluded, especially since they weren’t out of fear.

Colour existed in Maya’s wardrobe in shades so dark it could easily be mistaken for black, hues of green and a few neutral tones would only weave their way into her style if she craved to break the monotone. As the entirety of her closet lay on her bed, two thoughts ran simultaneously in her mind; she was thrilled this was happening at Noah’s place for the mess she was viewing was shocking and all her clothes seemed to either be formal or lazy day wear. From pencil skirts to oxford shirts, knits and everything in-between, eyes desperately scanned for a look that was a delicate mix of comfort casual and after a good fifteen minutes of searching, she finally pulled on something that she deemed was suitable. 

She managed to close the lid on her never, all up until she pulls up in front of his house. Maya cut the engine but hands go back to gripping the wheel tight. These weren’t negative thoughts, just a myriad of what-ifs and buts that fill her head so close to her destination. Frozen in her seat her mind visits each one of them with deep breaths as the answers leave her in a further state of disarray than she began in. What was she expecting out of this? For things to back to normal? But what was normal? And that stumped her, what was normal for them? It took a solid five minutes to shake herself out of these thoughts and a further five to pluck the courage to knock on his door. Carefully holding the bag with wine and chocolates in one hand, she smoothed down the creases in her skirt and greeted him with a smile once the door opened. “Pleasure is all mine,” she stated, her smile broadened as eyes travelled over him, “You look nice.” 

[mayabaxter]

arthurkanemoto‌:

Arthur’s shaking the pain off (why the fuck did noses hurt so damn much?) — it seems as if most of the crowd had missed his punch, aside from a select few right around the bar, thankfully. He doesn’t even see Maya, too focused on whether he’d be kicked out, and though it’d hardly be the first establishment he’s been thrown out of, trouble hadn’t exactly been on the list of things he’d wanted to seek tonight.

Of course, trouble always had a way of finding him.

He doesn’t even catch the beginning of the punch; just the crack! of her knuckles hitting the creep’s zygomatic and a yelp before he’s down on the ground again. Arthur’s in awe, mostly, that Maya would try such a thing and succeed in pushing him back onto the ground. However, something about being hit by a woman incites a new energy in the creep, and Arthur sees it — the guy’s about to lunge, get his hands on her in some unsavory way, and instincts kicking in, Arthur grabs the creep by the arm, swinging him down onto the ground.

“Try that again,” he pants, eyes all fury, “and you’re fucking dead.”

Mm. The employees did not like that.

Someone call the police! This guy’s going to kill me! If he didn’t have the attention of the crowd before, he sure did now. The entire bar hushed, watching Arthur pinning the guy on the sticky bar floor.

That hurt like a motherfucking bitch. 

Maya fails to register anything else other than the pain that drums through her hands. Knuckles ache as she flexes her fingers in an attempt to dissipate the dull throbs, but it was worth it, she thinks, though the punch may have been extreme, it felt good to flip the pronouns on the age-old narrative; he was asking for it. 

The adrenaline from the blow wears off rather quickly for Maya. A solid punch was all she had, and to see him stagger back up was concerning, to say the least. Not time to react or even think, Arthur has creep flying to the floor; it happens in a flash and in slow motion at the same time. The concern that fills Maya is not for the man on the floor but for the man that pins him on the floor. Damn, Arthur, enters her head for the second time that night but disappears as quickly as it comes but the noises from the rest of the bar filter through. 

It takes a few more minutes for the senses to return to her and the second they do, Maya is beside him in a flash, just in time to hear the word police being uttered. “Alright, Arthur,” she calls out, “Think the idiot learnt his lesson,” she says in her most civil voice but she couldn’t help but kick him, a mild one compared to the hits from before, to just really drive the point home. Anger still bubbled under the surface but Maya uses all her willpower to calm herself, the kick was the final deal to stop her from seeing red. “We should go before---” but before she could finish that sentence her eyes catch multiple people pulling out their phones, dialling to the only number that would make matters worse “Ah, fuck.”

[mayabaxter]

for: @cianxveri​ location: ventura time: saturday, 3pm

People gave into cravings in multiple ways, today Maya fell into the category of baking brownies herself. A combination of not wanting to leave the house and a bad hair day meant that she rather not walk the streets of Ventura looking, and feeling like she did. Cupboards opened and closed multiple times, and soon her countertop was lined with numerous components, save for one important ingredient - sugar. An unashamed lover of black coffee and hardly a baker meant that sugar was not a key element in her pantry, at least not one that she monitored and kept up stock. A deep sigh and a curse later, Maya tied her hair in a messy bun before venturing outside to test if 'lending sugar' was still a sentiment practised in the 21st century.

She knew the people directly to the right and left of her, so she crossed the street instead, armed with a coffee mug and the friendliest smile she could manage, she knocked on the door and rang the doorbell for good measure before taking a little step back and waited patiently as she could. “Hey, neighbour!” she greeted once the door opened, “Nice weather we’re having, right?” She paused for a grand total of two seconds before continuing, “So listen, this is terribly cliched but I actually, for real, ran out of sugar for my brownies, care to lend a cup?”  

[mayabaxter]

noah-morrell‌:

Whilst waving her terrible life choice away from him with a flick of his hand, Noah rolled his eyes. He rolled his eyes at how he’d convinced himself that things with Maya would be nothing more than what they had been. Late nights of laughing on the beach and the soft but siren like power of her voice had felt long gone for years now, but with Maya sat next to him now, he hoped with the deepest of hope that he’d be proved wrong. “If you think I’m cooking you anything else than pineapple on pizza if you come to my house, you’re mad wrong,” he joked, jostling himself into her gently once more. But this time, he found his hand reaching out for hers as his side hit hers as if the mental closeness wasn’t enough.  “7pm tomorrow?” He asked with a cheeky raise of his brows, his eyes settled so comfortably and hopefully on hers, “So I have time to make myself and the house look presentable?” 

It was both surprising and not at how natural this all felt, sitting next to him now listening to the soft sounds of the ocean, it was as if they had frozen in a scene from their shared memory, the only indication of the passage of time between them was in defined features and the clear increase in their age but the rest was untouched. Silent stares and teasing smiles, how she missed it all, to feel that closeness with someone was unlike anything else and Maya was beginning to get drunk on this sentiment. Their friendship was the same as was the feeling of something more, at that was true on her end. “I’d rather starve!” she exclaimed with a playful shove, “You wanna see me waste away into nothing, Noah, hmm?” A little pout held on for a beat before melting away into a teasing smile, “I can’t believe you’re about to let pineapple of pizza come between us...again.” It was magnetic the way she connected with Noah, the second his hand reached out, hers moved on instinct to meet his touch, “Sounds good,” she replied, “Oh you don’t need to worry about looking presentable, you never had a problem in that area.” 

[mayabaxter]

clarissaarcheron‌:

Clarissa listened on carefully, understanding that Maya was clearly facing a moment of crisis. It seemed as if all her problems had arisen at once, which was typical of these kinds of situations. The world could be cruel in that sense. The manifestation of some kind of focus was difficult to come by when the mind was otherwise occupied, and judging from the messages she’d sent and the expression on her face now - occupied was putting it lightly. “Well, if you want me to read anything and give you some feedback about what ideas seem promising then I’m more than happy to.” She offered, sending her a smile of reassurance as she felt that was the most she could do for now without actually delving into her writing. 

She ignored the comment about them finding their way back to her own issues, shaking it off and allowing the focus to remain entirely on Maya. This was important, it wasn’t often that she wanted to discuss truly personal complications. At the mention of her reasons for leaving Catalina she simply nodded her head, understanding that that wasn’t the issue at question. Rather, there was a “someone” that she was keen to discuss. “So, you’re telling me that you developed - no, redeveloped feelings for someone that stayed in touch with after high school?” She questioned, trying to wrap her head around what her friend was explaining to her as she shifted slightly to face her comfortably. “Is developing feelings such a bad thing? It sounds like there must be something there between you that is demanding to be explored. Are you scared or hesitant to let that play out between you?” Obviously, she hadn’t covered the matter of who this person was, but Clarissa was going to save that question until she’d managed to make her feel more at ease about speaking about it all.

Her living room was a sight for sore eyes, and her head wasn’t any better. The struggle with her writer’s block had extended far beyond her expectation, much like an unwanted guest, it refused to leave no matter how attempts she had made; subtle or otherwise, it sat tight and refused to budge. Months of torture and she came to accept her fate and the inevitable defeat. A deep sigh escaped her as she shook her head, there were about a million and one ideas in her ideas, each with the potential of expanding into a good story, but there lay the problem --- expansion. How could she go about that if everything she wrote resembled trash on fire? She might be harsh on herself, but she's always had high expectations of herself, and being an editor did not help the cause. Maya had subtly dismissed Clarissa's help, but now came the time to reconsider, "If I get down a concrete idea, I'll take you up on that offer," she said with a smile of her own, thankful for the help being offered.

"I sound like a teenager!" she exclaimed as her own words echoed back to her, "Developing and redeveloping...like high school all over again." And that wasn't a lie. These feelings that had risen did date back to high school, so did the boy on topic. Maya took a while to consider Clarissa's question --- was developing feelings a bad thing? Yes. With Noah? No. Was she hesitant? Yes. With Noah? No. If it had been anyone else, the problem would be solved with these revelations, but Maya wasn't everyone, her mind worked in ways she didn't understand herself. Yes, things were clear if Noah was in the picture, but the underlying issue of feelings and addressing emotions that had long been buried would still be a problem. "It's easy to answer that when he's involved, really for both those questions, it's a resounding no, but..." and there's always a but with her, always something stopping her from things well within her reach, "But like and love were never concepts I was good with, you know? What I've seen and experienced is wildly different from how it should be." Love was not a concept she grew up with, neither were any positive feelings, her home life was riddled with snide remarks and annoyed stares, so how could she reciprocate anything but that? "See, the hesitation's in the 'what ifs' for me, like what if he doesn't feel the same way, what if I can't be who he needs or who he remembers me to be, those things trip me up." 

Then came the memories of the laughter shared between them, "But he does make me feel good, he was one of the few people that made me feel like I had a place on this island," she confessed, "Made it safe for me to call it home...You remember Noah right?" she said finally, a sense of calm filled her as she spoke his name and a smile automatically followed, "He's back and making feeling like a damn teenager."