“no one’s wish comes true because this place is filled with so much terrible energy.” chrysanthemum isn’t afraid to start conversations with anyone, just glad to have someone around to hear her shit most of the time. the moment the person had approached the mall’s fountain, she was patting the empty space next her her, no doubt wetting the spot she wanted her new companion to sit as she fished for coins in the fountain, head shaking sadly “security collects them. spends people’s wishes on pop. can you believe this?” water splashes back into her face as she drops a handful of coins back to their temporary home, letting out a sigh “have you ever made a wish here? did it come true?”
as strange as it was, kath realized that wil was actually her oldest friend. ever since he’d come to the counter at chuck e. cheese to escape his wife for a few minutes, they’d been close. not inseparable, but… there’d been an understanding there. so, they had a little tradition; every week or so, kath would come by wil’s office in babbage’s for a drink to unwind after a long day. she wrapped at the door with her knuckles, calling out, “hey wil, i brought evan williams. a full bottle this time, i promise.”
@ofbling
wilbur was never known to keep friends long. in his youth, he had moved around a lot, living in different countries for months at a time and never quite making the time to get close to anyone. his ex wife, and strawberry nebraska, had changed that, taught him to settle down. even when they didn’t work out, he’d grown attached to strawberry, and the connections he had made there. most prominently and consistently, he saw kath almost daily. they worked in the same building, there was really no avoiding her. not that he ever wanted to “come in!” he looked forward to the time spent with kath on his breaks, it was one of the only times he got to drop his stupid cool guy act, mostly because wilbur was certain he was already much cooler than kath “i’ve got pizza. not a full box, though.”
once upon a time, wren had meant a great deal to anya. she could recall chasing after a group of shithead bullies who had beat the shit of out the pathetic whelp, eventually settling for pressing a piece of raw steak to his bruised face. he was the closest she had to a friend, if she was being honest, and over time, almost more than that. things had been tense between them since their brief attempt at a relationship (not that they called it that) in high school, and now, she had to pretend her heart didn’t ache with every rumor that went around “hey,” she was supposed to be on her break now, but was instead rearranging a display of vhs tapes, lingering for as long as she could “i heard some shit from blooth a few hours ago. about you, and- well, whoever. just, uh, be careful with fucking around here. we’ve already got one crew member with a public indecency charge.”
talk to the hand [ LANA CONDOR ], [ ANYA TRAN ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ 20 ], the [ CIS WOMAN ] works at [ RADIO SHACK ] in the mall and, like, [ SHE ] totally reminds us of [ HALLIE PARKER ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ CANDYMAN ]???? so is mine!
i am listening to a playlist for my favorite fictional character writing this so like. the sad boy vibes are immaculate.
anya tran can’t remember living anywhere but her little cul de sac in strawberry, nebraska. her entire life, it’s just been her and her mother.
her mother is a divorce attorney, a noncommittal hardass who catches onto anya’s shit before she even realizes she’s doing it. she’s good, so anya had to learn to be better. it’s not that her mother is a bad parent, she’s damn good honestly, they’re just two incredibly strong and conflicting personalities. anya wants to run straight in the ocean, her mother wants to soak in the sun. needless to say, some rules were bullshit from her perspective.
the whole punk thing is nothing new. she found a few old tee shirts deep in her mother’s closet. and, from what little she knows of her father, he was a real rocker. also, apparently, she’s just like him. anya.. is certain this is an insult, but she can’t help but push those buttons, proudly wear the title of daddy’s girl. if she knew the guy, she’s sure he’d think she was hilarious.
an old grudge match cassette sits on her night stand. if anya were honest, she’d admit to not being the biggest fan, but she blasts the insufferable noise constantly. both to be annoying, and give off that vintage cool girl image.
most of anya’s whole getup is for image, honestly. sure, she enjoys the leather and dark makeup, and has a lot more fun taking her motorcycle to work than her mom’s shitty car, but she’d really rather jam out to the spice girls, or watch something pleasant and not so fucking scary she can’t sleep. tough as she may be, she wishes she had the capacity to be proudly soft as well.
she’s lived in strawberry her whole damn life and it’s been H-E-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS. growing up with the same faces, hearing the same gossip every day, it gets annoying. there’s not much room to run in such a small town.
speaking of running, that’s exactly what she always does. she can’t remember when it started, why being so close to others is so scary to her, but assumes it’s whatever gene has her mother bringing home other hotshot attorneys when she thinks she’s sleeping. the tran women just can’t fucking commit, it seems. she can’t believe they’d ever considered being anyone’s anything.
where she lacks in romantic skills, she makes up for by being the most loyal friend. come for her friends and her tiny ass WILL jump on you. probably with a weapon.
wanted plots !!!!
CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND: y’all seen uhhh the edge of seventeen? i want that level of power in this friendship. need i say more?
EX PARTNER: yeah, you probably got cheated on, buddy.
GOOD INFLUENCE: someone who isn’t a leather clad demon for her to care about. tell her about actually pleasant shit in the world. be the person to get her into the spice girls lmfao.
FAMILY FRIEND: i imagine that this is like the child of her nanny, probably another childhood best friend tbh, being pulled into her little squad very young.
talk to the hand [ PAUL RUDD], [ WILBUR BERKOWITZ ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ 50 ], the [ CIS MAN ] works at [ BABBAGE’S ] in the mall and, like, [ HE ] totally reminds us of [ ALAN PARRISH ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ BRAINSCAN ]???? so is mine!
this is me ignoring everyone’s votes on the poll i’m SORRY
wilbur was six years old when the first computer science degree program was established, and he already knew what it was that he wanted to do. they were a family of the future, his parents would say, already visualizing the days of flying cars and robot butlers that were to come.
he was twenty years old when, halfway into his degree, he dropped out of cambridge university, chasing an offer across the world in strawberry, nebraska. his parents had worked hard to get him to england, but he threw it all away the moment an easier method came along. wilbur had always been that way, finding shortcuts and cheats to life. it had done him well up to that point, he had no reason to think otherwise.
when you treat life like a game, you get played. that was the first real lesson wilbur had learned when a year later, he hadn’t heard a word about the months he spent developing his game. he continued pitching it, working full time at strawberry’s local hot dog shop to keep his room in jacque bateman’s basement while his parents ceased funding him. it was 1978 when he met sarah, and 1980 when his game hit arcades across nebraska. the catch? his name wasn’t attached to it.
by this time, he and sarah had their own place, and conrad was six months old. wilbur had only wanted to get by at this point, be a half decent father. they were never together officially, staying together out of necessity and to get off on occasion. conrad’s conception changed everything, of course. they threw together a shotgun wedding, and not a year later, arcades had changed everything. if they weren’t together before, his months of work on his next game, the one he swore would make them rich, had buried their relationship 6 feet under.
they got their shit together when conrad was 7 years old. by then, the two of them had gone their separate ways and worked out a custody agreement. on weeks without conrad, wilbur would continue work on his game. on weeks with him, he had taught his son all he could about computers.
the strawberry patch came along right when he’d gotten fired from the local arcade, and there was babbage’s right on time. wilbur quickly rose in ranks at the store, and on occasion he’d tell his fellow mallrats about how his own game was just a few storefronts away in the chuck e. cheese. not that they’d ever believed him.
he tries his best to be in the know, having younger coworkers and conrad, now 17, update him as much as possible about pop culture and slang. he says it’s for the job, makes him more relatable, but honestly wilbur just can’t quite accept that he’s not 25 anymore.
with good samaritans like peter blooth coming for his position as most easygoing elder at the mall, he tries his best to be as laidback as possible. literally think about that english teacher that like sits on desks and tells you to call them by their first name. that’s essentially wilbur except it’s more like “fuck yeah dude you can have that game i ain’t a snitch”. yeah, he loses babbage’s some business, but he’s cool doing it.
i can’t think of any plots to make a list my brain broke SORRY
cat had a really special talent of making nate feel like shit but still stick around. often happened when someone didn’t have enough love for themselves, or saw enough in the other person to make them keep sticking around and hope something would change. he didn’t want anything more or anything less right now, but he couldn’t deny the sting her condescending tone left him, one he was used to hearing his entire life. “i don’t know real people words. you’ll just have to try and decipher what i’m saying on your own.”
sometimes she felt like a real bitch. it was usually her larger, shittier moments, like taking fresca’s clothes freshman year or that time she dumped her lunch tray on a new girl. right now, cat shouldn’t have felt that way. this wasn’t even close to how she had treated other less easy targets. but with nate it felt wrong. she recalled a few moments, prior, the excitement and intrigue in his voice, and compared it to now. she considered dropping her pride for a moment, easing up on her tone, maybe asking for an explanation. instead, what came out had a lot less pride, muffled by the stuff dog hugged close to her face “i have’t seen it..” and then a pause as she gathered her bearings, worked up the nerve to be decent “could you tell me about them?”
“so, like, here’s the thing,” kit says, and if you know kit, you know nothing normal can follow that phrase. “they say that no one was killed in the fire, right? but like… they could have covered something up, especially if it was, like, a homeless person or something. and if there was a ghost,” he lifts a finger, pointing to the stage, “wouldn’t it inhabit one of the animatronics?” he leans back with a satisfied smirk as if he’s just cracked the code, bringing a coca cola to his lips. “whaddya think, chrys?”
@ofbling
“here’s the thing.” chrysanthemum repeats teasingly, legs folding up on the bench she was seated at, over ten strips of photo booth photos in her hand “you think chet bingham is capable of covering up a death?” her voice drops, horror seeping into her tone “i think...” chrys’s eyes trail to the stage, moving through the animatronics one by one “i think mr. munch looks pained, doesn’t he?” she gasps softly, head shaking “poor thing. how can we help him find peace?”
despite what everyone thought, nate was not an idiot, not in every sense of the word at least. he may not be book smart but he was street smart, and more importantly people smart. he knew who cat was, what she wanted and what he was good for to her. he wasn’t fooling anyone and neither was she, yet they went along with their little thing anyway. he was too stoned right now to really care about it, not like he usually did. “i swear i’m not a fan. i’m not about that whole peach pit thing, but the chicks are hot in it so how can i deny myself that? you give me brenda vibes, babe. i’m more of a kelly man myself but you know brenda has it going on too.”
their differences aside, nate was good to keep around for a laugh. his company was enjoyed, even wanted without prompting sometimes. she supposed that was part of the appeal of embarrassing people, there was never a dull moment, none of the focus on image her usual crowd kept. it was refreshing, but a bit spooky. unconventional charm worked on her a bit too well, and cat had to remind herself not to get too comfortable “i haven’t seen it.” she responded boredly, hugging her stuffed animals close to her chest as she listened, smile threatening to emerge “uhuh. explain that to me in, like, real people words.”
more often than not when someone found nate he was stoned or slumped from the last time he had smoked, and now was the instance of just being stoned. it was the perfect time for it, wacky kids games and what felt like never ending pizza, it was a stoners dream. while it was great for him it was horrible for whoever made the mistake of talking to him, hearing him ramble on and on about absolutely nothing. “okay, i’m not a beverly hills, 90210 fan but they had all the seasons that are out so far at blockbuster and i was working the late shift and there was nothing else to watch so why not? and all i have to say is i’m team kelly all the way. of course her and dylan shouldn’t have done that but hey brenda isn’t all that innocent either. anyway kelly’s hot so they get a pass just for that.”
the pile of stuffed animals on cat’s bed hadn’t grown since last year’s fire, and it was quite frankly a disgrace that there were no other similar establishments near strawberry. chuck e. cheese wasn’t exactly a cool kids hang out, but it was where she had grown used to following loser boys she fucked, allowing them to win her prize after prize. cat wasn’t a fan of the games or the atmosphere, but she lived for the prizes. arms full of teddy bears, she only half listened to nate, giving a pained smile “babe...” a stifled laugh, head shaking. making fun of others was easy, but then there were people like nate. on one hand, she knew just where to pick at. but on the other, it was important to keep him hooked. he was an alright screw “it sounds like you might just be a fan. hate to break it to ya.”
talk to the hand [ LULU ANTARIKSA ], [ CATHERINE “CAT” CAVANAUGH ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ 20 ], the [ CIS GIRL ] works at [ LIMITED TOO ] in the mall and, like, [ SHE ] totally reminds us of [ TAYLOR VAUGHAN ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ THE CRAFT ]???? so is mine!
LISTEN bunny wasn’t working out for me okay i needed someone a lil.. spicier. so uh. take 2
TW: drugs, bullying
cat cavanaugh lives life under a single principle: whatever she wants to be, she can be. what she always wanted to be was remembered, loved, respected. so she did it, easily
custody of cat was given to her guardians early on in her life; they were family friends, and her parents got their selves thrown in prison before she was even crawling. from what she knew, it was drug related. from what she could tell, her new guardians weren’t any different.
she wasn’t given the best hand to start the game of life with; working class family, timid child her own age sharing a bed with her, and too-big hand me downs. cat had to build it all up herself, become someone worth looking at.
while her adoptive sister flew under the radar, growing more bitter by the day, cat joined the ranks of her sister’s tormentors. it was only the smart thing to do. if you don’t want to be bullied, be better. simple, she thought. it was all about mindset.
she believed she was better, so she was. she stole clothes from nordstrom racks, did her makeup in school bathrooms, always left the top few buttons undone. and just like that, she floated through high school, dated who she wanted, walked out with a pretty prom queen crown and a football player on her arm (promptly dumped in front of everyone an hour into the graduation rager at kelly ostroski’s house, duh)
who cat made herself just made it harder to identify who she was, though, and life after high school was hard to navigate. it was hard to tell where her bitchy act ended and where she began, but maybe that was for the best. it was easier to treat people like pawns, to hold herself on a pedestal, it showed people that she wasn’t as weak and pathetic as her sister had been, at least.
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, she would sometimes tell herself at parties, pupils blown wide and mixes of god-knows-what running through her system. the difference between her parents and her is that she can stop. she swears she can.
p-plots?
FWB: she’s been in a lot of relationships before, but her lack of commitment ruins it most of the time. cat prefers a simple friends with benefits situation... try not to complicate things (;
EX BEST FRIEND(S): i imagine they were at the top of the world together, and then cat pulled some fuckshit and their entire friend group was divided into two sides
DEALER: enable this stupid bitch do it. dealer and fwb are also things that might come as a package tbh
CASUAL/PARTY FRIEND(S): she tries not to get too close to people. someone here for just a good time is perfect, and tbh probably getting more respect than those she’s actually close to bc she is a shitty friend
BEST FRIEND(S): this is a new friendship and the extent of the connection is a little scary to her, they’ve gotten very close in a short period of time and they seem to understand her well.
talk to the hand [ HUNTER SCHAFER ], [ CHRSYANTHEMUM MACGUFF ] is the new kid on the block around here. at [ 19 ], the [ TRANS GIRL ] works at [ CLAIRE’S ] in the mall and, like, [ SHE ] totally reminds us of [ SABRINA SPELLMAN ]. oh snap! what? their favorite movie is [ DAZED AND CONFUSED ]???? so is mine!
this is my cinnamon apple #BarbzForBernie
raised in a shitty trailer park with two disasters for parents, chrysanthemum didn’t stand a chance at being normal. but that was fine with her, she embraced everyone’s differences, celebrated her flaws and her parents flaws. even when they abandoned her, she never quite blamed them for it.
her father had anger issues, but he never exploded on them, always walked away from a fight. chrysanthemum admired him for it, her mother demanded more. she had an innate need to know everything, how everyone was feeling, and she couldn’t be satisfied with the fact that her husband wasn’t telling her what was on his mind. that, chrysanthemum assumed, is what caused her to follow after him when he left them. not love, not a need to make it work, but chasing answers.
that was three years ago, and chrys is still by herself in her trailer. it isn’t so bad, she enjoys living on her own. she’s able to set up an actual altar for aphrodite now, able to buy all the frozen foods she wants and not get a single vegetable. it’s the small things that please her. she doesn’t ask for much.
chrysanthemum believes in love. she believes in love of people, of animals, of our environment. she wants really is for everyone to understand that it’s okay to be different, oh and also to fucking ACCEPT THAT ALIENS EXIST
she loves working at claire’s because it’s just such a feral place. the accessories are strange, maybe a bit cheesy, and the most embarrassing demographic (10-14 year old girls) shop there the most. there’s a power to that, a shamelessness that you don’t often find in other places.
also important for you to know she’s the world’s biggest saved by the bell fan like she has a serious saved by the bell problem. she likes toxic men hence a crush on zack morris. thank you.
final bullet point i want you to know that she’s certain she was marilyn monroe in a past life.
gimme plots !!
TINFOIL HAT BUD: a fellow weirdo, someone to smoke with and share all her strange theories on life and the universe.
SOULMATE: okay, not really, but she thinks so. it could be small things, like the lines on their hands matching up or having the same favorite color, but chrysanthemum is sure the universe has a plan for the two of them. not that she would say that
OPPOSITE BEST FRIEND: a cynic, a nonbeliever. someone to roll their eyes at her silly thoughts and musings but always be there to hear them out because that’s friendship baybee
