He was probably playing with fire right now, offering a drink to the guy who, well, had the power to fire him right on the spot, meaning that Tristan would have to, unfortunately, return under the roof of his parents once more. Rational thinking, however, was never Tristan’s strong suit, but luckily for him, Nova accepted the generous offer, and it only made the unusually bright smile on his face widen further. “On a regular day I prefer tea and the tears of my clients, however, this is a special occasion. You see, I’m celebrating right now,” Tristan explained, nodding his head solemnly. While it was utter bullshit, he had now reached the state where he believed the nonsense he was spewing, feeling like no one could defeat him.
Shivers ran up his spine, causing him to hum pleasantly as the alcohol settled through him. Nothing like a shot of something bad for you to make you feel the thrill of being alive. “Should I be concerned?” It was teasing, no real ire to him. “Are we going to get bad Yelp reviews because you make your clients cry? — Mm, tea though. There’s this uh, this bar up in — well, down for me, up from here, Notts, you know, that I went to which served absinthe tea…” He reminisced. “It was disgusting,” He added flatly. Had done the trick, however, as it sent him into a drunken stupor that lasted well into the morning. “What’re you celebrating,” He enquired, taking a drink from his own cup, a cranberry-vodka mix that was fruity enough and strong enough for his tastes. “Is it—Did they finally drop?” His eyes flitted down to the general area of the boy’s crotch before shifting back upward. Their eyes didn’t meet. November didn’t do eye contact, so they rested on his shoulder instead.
Sidney sat at the very end of the pier. Their legs dangled over the edge, toes just barely breaking the surface of the water. It was cold, but they enjoyed the shock of it. They air was thick, salty–something about it reminded Sid of calm. They had their guitar in their hands, and they were carefully strumming out notes. The tune wasn’t defined; it was loose, easy, something random and relaxed. Sid hummed along as they played. They had work later that night, and had already taken Mac on their daily walk. It was that empty, hazy period mid-day that they always felt like they needed to fill, somehow. It was too early for work and too late to go back to sleep. So they usually ended up finding something to do. That day they’d peered out into the pale gray of the afternoon and decided it was a good day to play. Sid was lost in their music–eyes closed, shoulders slumped, fingers dancing across the strings. They were so deep in the song that they didn’t even notice the sound of footsteps approaching. They turned around, offering up a soft smile but continuing their strumming.
“Any requests?” they asked warmly, tilting their head and squinting into the sun, “It’s a great day for some music, I think.”
One of the wheels on his skateboard was starting to come loose, the boy observed as he had to come to a sudden halt. The board had been going off course every other block. His slim fingers rolled against the dirty wheel, watching it as it turned with a frown on his weary features. Whatever, the ash-blond thought. So, he would have to walk the rest of the way. Exercise was ‘good’ for you, or at least that was what people always said. Holding his skateboard at his side, he began his walk to where June said she’d be waiting. He was an hour early, but with his eldest sister it was better to be on time than late and better to be early than on time. He had an ear-bud pressed into one of his ears while the other dangled freely against his shirt. Kehlani crooned in one ear as he made his way along the strip of pavement overlooking the ocean that led up to the Brighton Pier with all its bustle, hustle and noise. He tended to avoid any place that drew in large crowds, but if that was where June wanted to hang out, he wouldn’t complain about it. He came to a halt when a…busker (by the looks of it) turned his way with an easy smile on their mouth.
For a second, he almost looked behind him to make sure this person was indeed looking at November, but instead he swallowed awkwardly and bit the bullet. “Uh, sure?” He said, trying to think of a song. For whatever reason, the first thing that came to his mind was: “Before He Cheats by Carrie Underwood.” What the fuck.
While loathe to admit it, the dainty male was starting to regret coming to the store alone. He was now familiar with the times it would be somewhat empty and organised his trips that way, however, he was in desperate need of more Titanium White if he was going to get a few hours of decent work in on his mural tonight and hadn’t managed to go to the shops earlier after being held up at work. One thing was for sure. The owner’s carefree attitude betrayed nothing of how much actual work managing the parlour was. Embarrassment was already making heat lick at the sides of his neck, but he kept his expression stony as he stepped onto the step ladder and reached across the shelf for the paint can he needed only — only, his fingers just about manage to brush against the edge of it, the can pushed right at the back.
With a groan, he attempted to pull himself up further, getting on the toes of his boots as he leaned up further and tried again. After pushing himself quite a bit, he managed to move the can towards the edge so he could easily grab it. The strain and force of it led to four things happening very quickly in a matter of seconds. The first was his foot accidentally kicking away the step ladder, sending it flying across the aisle. His hands immediately moved to grip onto the edge of the shelf, his chin coming down hard against the wood with a painful smack. Next, the paint can came tumbling down, too, narrowly missing his face and falling with a resounding crash onto the ground instead, its lid popping off as white paint poured out of his belly. Finally, he lost his balance, falling backwards and onto the ground in a puddle of lily white paint — but not before falling into someone who had also been browsing the aisle and sending them to the floor too.
It hurt, when he fell, it’s not that it didn’t. In fact, for a second, he even thought he saw cartoon birds rotating his head and stars shooting to the front of his eyes. It hurt, but the shame somehow hit him tenfold, his pale face turning red as he lifted his hands to his face to cover them. “I’m sorry,” He managed to groan out at the person he’d fallen against before forcing his body up, his head immediately throbbing in protest. “Are you okay?”
hi guys a brand new intro for a brand new me!!!! — not quite.
shout out to dash for providing gifs. otherwise this intro wouldn’t have any.
OOC
my name is larissa, my favourite colour is green, louis is my fav, i’m not a 1d stan, and catfish and the bottlemen is probably the band i’ve been listening to the most recently. i’m a leo and despite hating attention and compliments, i love praise — and ye there is a difference i just like the effort i put in to be recognised ahhhhh ~soulful sigh~. i’m v emo i literally made my first friend in seaside round 1 because i kept reblogging brand new. i’m really vocal about social issues and exhausting to talk to just fair warning. i suck!!!! nova sucks a little less though so stay tuned.
IC
LOUIS TOMLINSON? No, I think that’s just NOVEMBER CAMERON CAIN, the 23 year old Brighton resident who has been there for 18 MONTHS. They are currently employed at incredible tattoos as an ARTIST and their coworkers say they’re DOCILE though sometimes GUARDED. If you get to know them better, you might find that he draws comic books in his spare time. Don’t forget; they identify as a DEMIBOY and use he/they!
okay so this is my child nova (short for november) and he’s probably the least interesting person in brighton. that’s not me being down on myself, but bear in mind that when i first created this muse i wanted someone with the social skill set of elliot alderman from mr. robot. got that picture in your head? good. keep it there, you’ll need it.
i’m going to keep this short. here are his stats, and i’ve also pasted my entire application here.
nova’s been living in brighton about a year and a half. he started out as an artist at inkredible and now he’s managing it - sort of. i like to think he’s looking after the place for his boss // the owner. he’s a good guy so if your muse works with him definitely hit me up so we can work out their dynamic. nova is slightly warmer with his coworker than he is with other people.
he’s from leeds and has a yorkshire accent.
he has a very eclectic taste in music and has a very free view of gender and how he expresses gender. (i elaborate more on this in my app).
he’s passionate about art, music and his cat ash (given to him by a dear friend).
he’s kind of a recluse and hard to get close to. he can come across as blunt and antisocial and he’s definitely not one to beat around the bush but at his core he is VERY SOFT. SO SOFT. NOT A MEAN BONE IN HIS BODY. like i said he’s not mean he’s just...awkward, so sometimes he says things that are quite??? tactless???
he’s the youngest of seven; all his older siblings are adopted.
he doesn’t talk about himself at all so even if our characters are ‘friends’, the chances they know anything personal about nova is -100/10. he’s very good at responding to conversation without offering anything about himself.
a fantastic listener... lol ^ obviously.
he’s a grouch — ok don’t think scrooge think more like brooding YA hero you know the type. he’ll stare at you for 10 minutes while in deep thought and then look away all annoyed when you catch him as if you are the one being weird.
he’s a pessimist and a cynic who likes having his cynicism validated. if your character is nice to him he will probably question their motives. he has his reasons but this can be quite annoying for other people.
he draws comic books on the side and he is very! artsy! probably jerks off to goya. ok not really. or at the very least not goya. michael hussar and jessica zoob and monet are his faves just in case you wanted to know. dali is ok too but he’ll give you a half an hour lecture about how he can’t believe he’s a fascist and how all pop icons are disappointing little piss stains
demisexual !!! greyromantic !!! - what this means, just in case you don’t know, is that he needs to feel some sort of emotional connection in order to experience sexual attraction/interest to another person, but that gender is of no import when it comes to his choice in partners. does not like people (regardless of gender) with vaginas.
um he suffers from bipolar ii disorder, is medicated. doesn’t talk about it. (no shocker there) hates the movie garden state.
. he’s evil like....hates bad jokes. probably laughs once a year, smiles even less. hates christmas. was probs the grinch in his former life.
TW // SUICIDE MENTION - attempted suicide in his old hometown (leeds) in a public place and wound up on the news over it and it partly influenced his decision to move to brighton (if your character is ALSO from leeds they would recognise november from this story. it was pretty big.) - i elaborate on this in the app linked above!
he has a love-hate relationship with netflix... listen idk what else to say i suck at intros he’s REALLY hard to get to know and the embodiment of the 2005 emo phase but he’s a really good person at his core and is genuinely such a baby don’t hurt him. (or do) (i don’t actually care)
turnnoffyourmind
snowghoul
izzy806
gummygunk
vaporwave
areudirty
jbbartram-illu
