monday blues

call me whatever the fuck you want. Monday || 25 || Human

[natebaldwinrp]

private starter // @mxnday-blues

it had been a little while since nate had just gone out for a night of drinking and fun, and while he knew that monday was much more of a get-drunk-and-high-at-home-then-go-to-bed type he had dragged her along with him. with parker gone, harper mad at him, and augustus in his funk he didn’t have anyone else to bring along. of course there was always athena, but there was something different about going out with your girlfriend (or whatever athena was) then going out with a friend. so, nate and monday had ended up at alastor’s and he had wasted no time in downing a few shots right as they walked through the door. most people hated going to their place of work off the clock, but nate loved it. it was the perfect atmosphere for him to let loose in. 

nate was leaned against the bar ordering another drink when a girl walked up to him who was clearly way too drunk to function. it was clear what she wanted from him, and a couple months ago he would have gladly given it to her, but things with he and athena were getting pretty serious now and no amount of hot drunk blondes would cause him to jeapordize that. he saw monday a couple feet away in the crowd and gave her a panicked look, and when she finally came over nate grinned widely at her. “there you are babe,” he said as he threw his arm over her shoudlers and pulled her in to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. as soon as the blonde realized she wasn’t going to get what she wanted from nate she excused herself back into the crowd. nate’s arm fall from monday’s shoulder and he let out a small laugh, “sorry, she was being really persistent and i’m not going to fuck this up with athena so i needed saving. looks like the junkie became the hero for a second.”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

Monday wore an amused smirk on her face once the blonde had cleared their mutual line of vision. It had been a while since she’d gone out, at least with company, and it had likewise been a while since she’d been in a good mood. “Not complaining at the role-reversal, but I’m hurt. Here I thought you were finally admitting you had the hots for me,” she said, jabbing him lightly with her elbow. She knew very little about Athena. It was a wonder she knew her name at all, and she liked to think it was the result of successful prying. It was hard work, getting to the bottom of Nate’s crush, and it was a rollercoaster of a ride. One minute, it seemed, they were together and the next, suddenly, they weren’t. Rinse and repeat. Now, at least, Nate felt confident in the stability of their relationship. Enough so that he had denied a very sexy blonde. 

Given that he’d not-that-long-ago gotten his ass handed to him by a couple of bitches for cheating, it was a feat that made Monday raise a brow. “Things are getting pretty serious, huh?” She asked, waving the bartender over and ordering another drink. Admittedly, their relationship was a close one without all of the garbage that comes with closeness. Namely, vulnerability. She liked that about Nate. Liked that their relationship maintained an air of casualness, so as to not send her panicking and packing her bags. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

weresantiago:

Sofia was impressed by the strategy of the double-move, but far from it by Monday’s execution. She blocked the first punch with her forearm, and as her sparring mate’s other hand shot towards her chest, she lunged at Monday’s hand and spun around. As she did so, she pulled her arm with her, and held it there behind her back. This ought to feel like a victory, but it had been far from challenging and truly only made her feel… sad. She remained there for a moment, and then let go of Monday with a gentle push. 

      “What is up with you? You’re totally off your game.”

Monday made a guttural growl as she was rendered immobile at Sofia’s hands. Squirming in her hold, she held the arm against her chest when she was released, rubbing it and effectively nursing her wounds. There would be no such comfort for her bruised ego, and when Sofia asks, she glares at her for a moment, hissing, “Nothing,” before relenting with a sigh. “I...haven’t been sleeping, or whatever,”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

rohan-rowe:

Rohan opens her mouth and almost spilled the whole thing. Leaving the town where everything reminded her of her mother and how even looking in the mirror hurt sometimes. She didn’t want to ruin the playful atmosphere so she kept it all in. Giving Monday a joking smile she laughed. “Do I look like I could kill someone? Ah, yes, I shoplifted some marshmallow fluff and got caught,” she joked.

She shrugged nonchalantly, but the glimmer in her eyes was playful. “The best killers look like you,” she shot back, “otherwise, they’d get nowhere in the killing business.” Though, to be fair, Ro looked nothing like the type of person to kill someone. She looked like she had trouble killing flies, even. 

[ccmillcr-blog]

monday’s not so fun / m&a

[mxnday-blues-blog]

abbyabbctt:

abby flinched at the noise — enhanced sense of hearing and all — more than the act itself. she glared at the other woman, but let it melt almost immediately upon noticing the change in her demeanour. she shrugged gingerly as she pulled another book from the shelf. “i have, though i couldn’t say that i’ve done that for more than a handful of books. maybe one or two. i seem to find it hard to have favorites.” 

after a quick inspection of the book’s font and size — small and cute, not too formal-looking — she turned and joined the woman behind the counter, pulling a chair with her to sit on. “i presume that you’ve read the same book twice?” she asked, crossing one leg over the other as she leaned against the cold counter. “what genres do you like?”

Catching her flinch, Monday felt pleased with herself for inciting such a reaction. She refrained from returning her glare, though, having already decided to stick to civility. Besides, the one thing that interrupted Monday’s anger at any given moment was her curiousity. And, sue her: she was curious. “I’ve read the same book more than a dozen times,” she replied, shrugging one shoulder though inside she was puffing up with pride. 

She sighed, pursing her lips as she thought of the answer to that question. “I have an eclectic taste, honestly. Give me a good story, with either heartbreak or an awesome character arc and I’m sold. You could write a book that’s got an epic plot, but if I’m not attached to the characters as if they were real people, then I couldn’t give a fuck. You?”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

what-the-heck-is-a-luan:

Listening to her future plans for what little pride he had left and how it was really no fun to destroy it all in one go, he couldn’t help but smile a little. “Naturally.” Despite her sharp edges, he found himself growing quite fond of this woman. She was different than most and he found it refreshing even if he had been wishing for a cliff to jump off of just moments before.

Taking the paperwork back, he gave it a quick once over and filed it away before blinking at her next words. “No need. If I fuck it up I’ll just commit Seppuku.” He was joking, of course, but somehow felt she wasn’t. If there was anyone capable of killing him over a fucked up tattoo it was probably the woman before him. “Come on. Let’s get you touched up.” He paused, narrowing his eyes as he internally questioned his word choice again before deciding he was a moron and some battles could not be won. “You know I mean.” Turning, he waved a hand to lead the way.

Monday laughed, “Ou, would I get to watch?” She asked, following behind him. Truthfully, though the location wasn’t exactly the most promising for it, she looked forward to the pain. She had been living the last couple of days in a daze, most definitely due to the drugs she had been taking. She imagined she wore it on her face, the way her eyes blinked just a little too slowly, and how her movements were almost tired. 

She was tired, to the bone, and she needed something to wake her up. She scoffed at his comment, a smirk growing on her face, “Careful, now. I’m starting to think you’re into me. Lots and lots of Freudian slips on your part,” she said. She began rolling up the sleeve of her three-sizes-too-big sweatshirt and hopped on a chair nearby. Swinging her feet, she asked, “So, what’s your name? I like to be on a first-name basis with people before they start poking me,” she winked. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

tamsink:

Tamsin nearly said yes; it was the first answer that popped into his mind because it was the truth but, considering the girl across from him didn’t seem much younger than he was physically, that would probably be a bad idea. So, instead, he shook his head. “Private school. Had uniforms and everything,” he lied. Details made lies more realistic, right? God, what if she asked the name of his private school? Shit. But the words were out; he couldn’t take them back. “And I’m not so I’m used to being wrong,” he said with a shrug, a lightness to his tone that said he had no problem with that.

Monday raised her eyebrows, “No offense, but you don’t exactly look like the private school type,” she said. In her mind, private school boys all looked the same: preppy, and puking money. Though she supposed it made sense, deciding the reason he passed his class is that he probably paid his way through it. She also suddenly understood why he was high for most of his classes, it seemed exactly the type of thing a private school kid would do. “What’s your name, Mr. Wrong?”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

huvall:

She was staring at him and Hugo was doing his best to ignore it, wishing his peripherals were hazier than they really were. She had the kind of eyes that could haunt a person, not so much because of whatever was in them, but by the way she was using them. Fearless. She wasn’t concerned with him knowing she was looking, he could tell as much by the way she kept doing it. Why he felt the need to stare at his glass instead was unexplainable. Then again, he wasn’t much in the mood to flirt either. Some might have called this feeling like a kicked puppy, his tail tangled between his legs but it was more acidic than that. Worse, even. He knew he deserved to be here, in this mindset, so he allowed it to consume him rather than deflect from it. It’d go away sooner or later. It always did.

“Death would be more like sweet relief and there’re certain facets of my life that would rather me suffer than get off that easy,” He replied honestly, yet, without explaining much at all. “You? Arsenic’s pretty heavy stuff… So what, did you kill someone?”

Monday assumed she could relate. She made more enemies than not, and she didn’t doubt there were people out there who hoped to see her crumble and suffer than rise up and succeed. Still, her new companion was looking to be more and more interesting than she had initially written him off as. He looked downtrodden, there was no doubt about that, and it wasn’t that fact so much as the resignation he expressed. Usually, people who went into bars feeling like shit were content to wallow in it and look for sympathy. Not this guy, though. She liked that. 

Because of this, and not much else, Monday did not shut down like a clam when he asked. “I may as well have,” she replied, surprisingly without much emotion, “I’m pretty good at pinpointing people’s weak spots and exploiting them,” she shrugged, “I may not be a murderer but I’ll be damned if I can’t destroy someone emotionally. Which I did. And then he died,”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

rohan-rowe:

Rohan blushed very lightly and nodded. ‘Slowly, got it.’ she thought to herself. She paused for a moment to think. “Well, I’ve never had any kind of pet which I should probably fix and I don’t know… I moved here not too long ago for a fresh start, needed to escape some shit,” she told her with a small, almost sad smile and took another tiny sip of her drink.

Monday spent the entire time Ro was talking with her head tilted close to her drink and her straw in her mouth. She was, arguably, already close to a little buzzed herself. She was feeling playful, or maybe she was feeling nostalgic (and for once the nostalgia did not come with stabbing pain in her chest), but she decided Ro was good company. “Oh?” She said, perking up in her seat, “Are you like, a convict, or a murderer or something?” She teased. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

axgustvs:

He’d expected to hear about things he already knew, if only tangentially. He’d expected certain names of places, maybe of people (well, person). He’d expected this to sting, a little. Not this much. He was trying to focus on Desi’s speed-through of the family tree of Charlie’s lost love. But from the first use of his name, even if it was referring to someone else, and then the passing mention man himself, Augustus had been unhinged. This all somehow hit too close to home. By the end of her frenzied monologue, Augustus was smoking.

The confirmation of what he had suspected this whole time was not pleasant. It was, actually, the worst thing she could have said to him, which was impressive considering she had attempted French not two minutes earlier. But he remained stoic as ever, seemingly unfazed beyond mild surprise. “Gold Beach? What are the odds.” They were quite, quite high. So Charlie was, what? Burdening an old human women with the knowledge of the supernatural? The pangs of sadness quickly slid into annoyance. He was so sentimental, the prat.

“This was impressive. I must admit I didn’t have high hopes.” He took a drag of his cigarette, then sighed on the exhale. “Well, a deal’s a deal. I’ll reimburse you for the poster, however much cocaine you’re on, and the gas it took to drive back here. And then another 300 on top of that?”

Higher than a kite, floating just above the stratosphere, Monday didn’t note anything suspicious when he began smoking indoors. He owned the place, and it felt awfully stereotypical of a man working in journalism. If anything, it simply made Monday want one, too. Her fingers twitched at her sides, but she refrained from asking if she could. 

She wasn’t particularly offended by his statement, attributing to it being a long shot more than a question of her capability. “Desi delivers, what can I say?” She replied, thinking it would be awesome to have that on a business card. Actually, what was really stopping her from opening up her own business? With such a clever tagline, she’d have clients begging her to sign them on. She thought about running this idea past Augustus, but even in her cocaine-filled mind, she could sense that now was not the time. “I know, right? I gasped when I figured it out.”

He had said it so casually, she’d almost missed the context, replying with a smirk, “Enough to kill a small animal,” but her stomach dropped when it finally processed just who it was she was talking to. “I —,” but she faltered. After all, he wasn’t reprimanding her, so was it really worth defending herself? “I will give you my receipts,” she filtered through her pockets before dropping them on his desk, albeit crumpled up. “Oh! Before I forget, I went ahead and did some research on Arabella,” she pulled her notepad from her book, flipped through some pages, before ripping a sheet out, “here’s her contact information. It’s just the nursing home she’s staying at, but, still. Thought I’d save you the trouble.”

Fuelled by cocaine and cocaine alone, she felt the need to keep talking, and besides, she was hoping he’d reveal just what he needed this information for. “I almost called ahead, just to make sure she hadn’t kicked the bucket yet, but I figured you’d want to take over that part yourself. Since, y’know, I have no idea what this is about...” she trailed off, but the silence didn’t last long. Shaking her head, she smiled excitedly, “This was...fun,” she felt like a real-life investigative reporter, “I appreciate the opportunity,” it was as close as she could come to a thank you. “I, uh, wouldn’t mind the chance to do some more research, if you needed, again,”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

axgustvs:

He snorted. “As opposed to the overpopulating that’s happening now?” He shrugged. “Bigger families were more common, yes. There might be a lot of lines to follow.” He was quiet, for a moment, thinking. “Focus on any descendants that moved to the States. If any of them have.” He reached into his pocket to produce his wallet, then slid out a heavy black credit card. “Stick around long enough to sign up. You might need to pay for memberships so just put it on here. After that you can go home, but I want something by… let’s say 7 tonight?” He put the card down on the desk and stood up. “I’m going to get coffee for me, and paperwork for you. Don’t buy a car or something while I’m gone.”

When Desi comes back in, 7 o’clock on the dot, she’s wearing sunglasses. If she were to take them off, her eyes would be bright red and bulging, pupils dilated so large that her eyes appeared black and soulless. She carried a poster board in hand, and she walked into Augustus’s office without knocking, a bright —and suspiciously wide — smile on her face. 

“For the record,” she began, buzzing a mile a minute and tapping her pen against her thigh, “I was right. They did have a billion babies. And their babies had a billion babies. Mademoiselle,” she butchered the pronunciation, “Gabriele had five sons. Charles, born in 1854 — a year or so after she got married, and actually, she was almost married once before but the dude mysteriously disappeared, which really bummed me out, anyway — then Peter, Michael, George and John, named after her husband, and died when he was 12. I drew you a family tree,” she pulled out the large poster board she had rolled up in her hands and laid it across the desk, “I’ll spare you the details, although I’m tempted to bore you through them like you did to me…but I’m feeling benevolent. But not that benevolent, so follow along, because I’m not about to repeat myself. It’s a mouthful, but pretty exciting I guess. You’ll see why. Ol’Charlie had three daughters, Mary the eldest, specifically, went on to have four — in, Arlempdes, actually. That made her family tree the easiest, because I’m not kidding you there are literally less than like, 100 people living there now. A bit more back then, but still.

Anyway, Mary had just three kids, one of which she named after her grandma, Gabriele, who in turn named her daughter after her mother, albeit French-ified — Marie — who moved to the US. She had four kids, three of which are dead now. And, in fact, most of the good old Williams line is dead. Except for one who is knocking on death’s door anyway — she’s 75 — Arabella Franklin. Who lives…” she paused for dramatic effect, a smirk growing on her face, “in Gold Beach, Oregon!” she tapped against the little figurine she drew symbolizing Arabella. 

[jesscopeland]

mxnday-blues:

This wasn’t fair. This was some extra cruelty being delivered to her front doorstep, with Jess’s name on the return address. She didn’t want to know Jess was sorry — that complicated things. Monday operated best when things were black and white. Friday was dead; that was black. Jess was a bitch; that was black. She didn’t understand grey tones, couldn’t process them properly. “Fucking stop it!” She wanted to sound commanding, but it came out more like she was begging. 

The emotion flickered, and then, just like that, it was abandoned. Monday left it behind, borrowed the dirt from underneath Jess’s fingernails and refilled the hole she had created. “You’re sorry. Great.” She said, turning around and getting ready to walk home. Though — truthfully, she’d probably end up at the bar, feeling far too sober and raw to be able to sleep otherwise. 

Jess felt herself lean back, away from Dez as the other girl screamed at her to stop, as if she was doing something beyond just talking about her feelings. It had bile rising in Jess’s throat, burning the whole way up, but she just had to get the words out there, she had to make it known that she wasn’t going to hide from this anymore.  If Dez hated her, then so be it, she’d wear that. But she wasn’t going to pretend like it wasn’t happening either.

Brown eyes dropped to the ground feeling shameful again, though this time she didn’t speak. She didn’t dare rock the shaky ground with another Jess-sized earthquake — Dez deserved better. So when she was dismissed, at the girl turned on her heel, Jess simply looked away and let the rest of what she’d been holding in cascade over her. It hit her shoulders hard and flowed down her cheeks like rain, not a drizzle, but like a storm. And for however many minutes as it took, Jess just allowed herself to sit there, tear-soaked and regretting everything she’d done to make Dez hate her.

[mxnday-blues-blog]

axgustvs:

“All of the above?” he repeated, though he needed no clarification. “Pay you a salary and extra for this project?” Augustus looked actually, genuinely surprised. He stared at Desi, sizing her up. This kind of brazenness might have annoyed him or made him angry enough to call the whole thing off. Or it might’ve, like now, warmed him up to recognize a fellow opportunist. He had to admit, he respected how confidently she demanded her terms. And Augustus certainly had the money. So he smirked, and shrugged. “I’ll tell you what, find me something promising by the end of the day, and you have a deal. If not, I’ll still hire you, but this just becomes one of many tasks you’ll end up having. Sound good?”

He leaned back in his chair. “So, I’ve heard about this woman in stories, but I want to find out more. It’s, a bit complicated. She’s not exactly a relative but she has some significance to— Well, the why is not really important. I’m looking for anything, but I’d most appreciate a family tree. She was well off, so I assume there’s better documentation of her life an lineage than there is for most.” 

Monday did not blink as he repeated her statement, did not bother to state that she misspoke (she was only looking for a salary, after all) and instead allowed him to come to his own conclusions. The worst he could do, she thought, was revoke the offer entirely, and then she’d be no worse off than she started. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain. When he smirked, though, her own smile appeared on her face, pleased with herself and pleased to impress him. As far as she knew, Augustus was not that much older than she was, yet he was monumentally more successful. All in all, a good contact to have, an even better mentor. “Sounds like a deal,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “Hang on — can I work remote? I’m more productive at home,” and on coke. 

“So, she’s important to someone important?” She assumed, raising a brow. “Actually, scratch that. It doesn’t matter. You looking for anything specific in this family tree? Didn’t they have like, a billion babies back then?”

[mxnday-blues-blog]

aubrey-jenkins:

Aubrey shrugged. She wasn’t going to go into details, about how it wasn’t the cheating itself that was her deep dark secret as much as the why behind it. Why had she continued to sleep with someone who was a piece of shit. The truth in her soul was that she feared … no she KNEW, deep down in the pit of her self that she was irrevocably emotionally damaged and dumb affairs with unavailable people was all she was capable of. “I made a choice too. I made a choice to be a willing participant in that level of douchery. I just didn’t know I was capable of that level of bitcheness, that’s all. I wish I’d had the balls to decide that he was a piece of shit not worth anyone’s time. It was pathetic that being the secret foray at night made me feel special. It was a weak period in my life.”

Monday didn’t agree, in the slightest, but Aubrey held a special gift for her in her pocket and so the woman decided it was best to let this argument slide. If only for the sake of maintaining face, and nothing else, she shrugged again in return. “Well, you learned your lesson now, right?” She asked instead, grabbing some peanuts from the bar and stuffing them in her mouth. There were plenty of times when Monday’s level of bitchiness astounded even her, so she found herself particularly unable to relate. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

what-the-heck-is-a-luan:

Told she was done annihilating his ego, for now, he let out a sigh of relief that was quickly followed by something akin to a “pfft” sound. “Pretty sure any ego I had is long gone. Pride though. There is still a little left for you to eviscerate another time…Granted I don’t piss you off before then.” He smiled a little as he spoke before widening his eyes as he was reminded of the task at hand. “Oh! Yes. I just…” He trailed off a little as he dug around a bit behind the counter, coming up with some sheets of paper. “Just need you to fill those out real quick and we’ll get that dragonfly looking good as new.” Humiliation finally subsiding, he smiled and handed her a pen.

He was learning quick, at least, and Monday found herself growing more impressed with him by the second. She liked people who were fumbly, poor with words, and truthfully, a little afraid of her. It tended to have a good effect on her, and to the point, Monday relaxed her guard slightly, deciding that though his enthusiasm was insufferable at best, he wasn’t so horrible himself. “Oh, good. I’d hate to have gotten rid of it all in one go. No fun in that,” 

She glanced over the paperwork, filling it out without much thought —after all, she’d done this before so many times — before handing it back to him. “If you fuck this up, I’ll kill you,” she said, lightly patting his back. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

tamsink:

At her admission, a grin spread across his lips followed by a breathy chuckle. “Well, since you said it – I don’t think there was a day of high school where I wasn’t high,” he replied. It had just been weed and the occasional ‘borrowed’ prescription back then – the heroin had come afterwards, when he had zero job prospects, no motivation to change that, and a group of friends that were anything but good influences. “But you’re probably right,” Tamsin continued with a shrug. “I was, at my best, average. And I was never at my best.”

Monday laughed — it was always nice to find someone who could be said to be kin. Though she never touched drugs in school, she was usually coming down from something or nursing a hangover, enough that it may as well have counted. “Did you go to West Hollow, or..?” She asked, when her laughter had subsided. She was familiar with near all of the potheads she’d graduated with, sitting in the smoker’s corner with her cigarettes during second period more often than she didn’t, but the man before her didn’t look familiar. Or that much older than she was. “I’m usually right, so I’d get used to it now,” she said playfully. 

[ccmillcr-blog]

monday’s not so fun / m&a

[mxnday-blues-blog]

abbyabbctt:

abby knew she shouldn’t find amusement in this particular situation she was in. desi seemed like she was capable of maiming her, and abby was a vampire. still, she couldn’t keep her lips in a neutral line, letting a little smile slip as she looked down at the counter and began tracing its edge whilst making her way to the opposite side of the room – to the bookshelves. “no,” she shrugged. “i was simply informing you, really.”

she stopped by the ‘a-d’ shelf, tugging on one particular book she’d been eyeing for quite some time. “i have little books at home, all of which i have finished reading; ethae has more materials i could potentially like.” opening to the first page, abby examined the font and scrunched her nose when she found it wasn’t to her liking. shame. with a sigh, she turned back to her coworker and placed the book back on the shelf. “we don’t have to get along. we can just be civil with each other.”

Monday rolled her eyes, but made no further comment, returning instead to her work. That was a Desi move, choosing tasks and duties over ripping into someone. It was why she kept her identities separate, why she went by the name her grandmother called her at work than the nickname she gave herself. 

Slamming her hands down on the counter as Abby continued to talk and disturb her, she turned to glare in her direction, opened her mouth, but stopped herself halfway through. Civil was not something Monday was good at. Desi, on the other hand, was ever the little diplomat, and if she had to channel her a little more today then so be it. “What, you’ve never read the same book twice?” She asked, with more curiousity than venom. 

[mxnday-blues-blog]

weresantiago:

Sofia was surprised by how quickly she went down —she was used to her being more prepared, at least. It would always be hard for a human to keep up with a werewolf hand-to-hand, but this was… something else. She saw the anger rise up in Monday’s eyes, proud that she nonetheless pulled herself to feet with little downtime. She watched as she pulled her arm back, giving herself away. Sofia ducked, and sent a jab, just as quick as before but softer this time, at the girl’s gut. 

      “I saw that coming from a mile away, come on. You can do better.”

Of course, she saw it coming, Monday had taken her sweet time reeling back. It was obvious, in retrospect, and a beginner move. Embarrassment continued to hike up in count within her, and she felt her chest get locked with emotion. She didn’t see Sofia’s jab coming, though perhaps with more sleep, she might’ve. More sleep and fewer drugs. She swayed as she stood and grit her teeth, grounding herself to keep herself from sliding too far back. 

Relying on her favourite move, she aimed for Sofia’s side ribs with one hand, while the other went straight for her diaphragm. But this was only successful with speed, and Monday was moving at a snail’s pace.