𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

[pcisonpctal]

𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐚. 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐇𝐐.

𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢 * 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢-𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚍𝚘𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛. 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚌. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑. 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐋𝐨𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐨 * 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢-𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚎. 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝚝𝚘𝚑𝚞𝚖.

[ladyxluck]

location: well-aid status: open @factionstarters

Between her throbbing migraine and her backed-up sinuses, Marlo was already having a rough enough time trying to remember what day it was. And the fluorescent overhead lights of Well Aid buzzing like fucking flies in her skull certainly wasn't helping. It was the dead of spring, and her allergies were throwing a full-blown tantrum about it.

She needed Excedrin and Sudafed — stat.

She squinted at the wall of identical red boxes, all pulling maroon under the shade of her sunglasses. Lifting them to help her see better, and then quickly regretting it as the strength of the artificial lighting overwhelmed her, Marlo blinked hard to make the labels come into focus. But they all looked the same under this tired, painful haze.

Half-dazed and ready to snap, Marlo dropped her shades again and turned slowly toward the nearest stranger. She lifted a hand so that her thumb was to her ear and her pinkie hovered above her lips — unfortunately chapped from a morning of blocked nasal passages.

"Hey, I'm phoning a friend," she said softly, meeting their gaze as she spoke into her hand-shaped telephone. Anyone would be having a much better day than her, right? Surely they would answer her call for aid. "Can you help a girl in need find her medicine?"

[pcisonpctal]

A long day, filled with far too much paperwork and the review of patient files and a shift in the ER during the morning hours. When did the day start and when would it end? Still, there wasn’t time for a break yet. Stella had set herself a goal, determined to sort it before she’d allow herself to rest for the day and nothing would deter her from accomplishing said goal. Until a voice to her right spoke to her, hinting at speaking into a phone clearly hinted at with their hands. A hum as she listened, chuckling quietly. “Right. A friend.” She scanned the other, noting the exhaustion. Unless she was reading things wrong, this one seemed in dire need of the medication mentioned.

“Of course, I can.” The brunette’s head angled to side as she observed. “What is it you’re looking for exactly?” So long as it wasn’t too odd a request, surely there could be no harm in helping. At the end of the day, perhaps it all came down to her inner instinct; that silly feeling that even after hours, Stella couldn’t just stop acting on her Hippocratic Oath. Then again, this wasn’t entirely about not doing harm. This was more about avoiding being the cause for more harm simply by refusing to help.

She leaned back, scanning the shelves for a moment as she waited for an answer via this odd form of call from the person next to her before her eyes roamed, the person once again being analyzed. It was a habit that was hard to get rid of. “Don’t mind me asking, but are alright? Call it a nasty habit. I just can’t help but ask.” The moment this was sorted Stella would be out of there, the basket with supplies and medication she’d like to keep at home almost forgotten for the moment. ❧ @ladyxluck

[cfichor]

starter. stella , ( @pcisonpctal ) location. hollow point precision

❝  you'll  get  your  shipment  when  i  say  you'll  get  it  .  ❞  she  nearly  growls  into  the  phone  ,  annoyance  the  very  taste  buds  on  her  tongue  ,  as  she  soon  discards  the  item  on  the  desk  beside  her  .  she  knows  that  such  a  deal  should  be  handled  with  care  ,  precision  ,  but  she  finds  the  very  sound  of  the  man's  voice  a  vexation  in  the  hollow  of  her  chest  .  the  kind  that  makes  it  nearly  impossible  to  not  want  to  shatter  something  ,  or  shoot  something  .  she  hears  the  footsteps  before  she  sees  her  ,  and  for  a  moment  ,  she  considers  lashing  out  ,  at  whoever  has  come  to  expand  that  annoyance  .  but  the  sight  of  stella  stills  her  ,  eases  the  grip  of  anger  that  has  curled  its  fingers  around  her  .  ❝  hello  ,  mi  amor  .  ❞  she  practically  purrs  ,  as  her  gaze  lifts  to  settle  on  stella  ,  a  soft  smile  now  curled  upon  her  lips  .  ❝  if  you've  come  looking  for  diego  ,  he  isn't  around  .  ❞

[pcisonpctal]

A checkup every now and then was just part of who Stella was. The medic, the doctor, the caretaker; all titles that she carried with pride and sometimes an intensity that could cause others to frown and feel annoyance seep in. It didn’t bother her much. And beyond that she was simply herself, a calm being with an everlasting, easy smile which would transform into a mischievous smirk if needed. “Now, do I always have to come around just to see Diego?” Plenty of times her visits were for just that. For now, she was simply coming around to pay a visit to a friend of sorts. Whatever that meant. For the most part the brunette didn’t bother with labels; didn’t dare assume or wonder or wander or worry.

Two cups of coffee were placed on the table in front of her. “I came looking for you. And I got lucky.” A chuckle. “Even brought coffee. I don’t think I need to disguise this one as a peace offering, do I?” Stella plopped down onto one of the chairs, scanning the other’s face. Ren looked stressed to say the least, or annoyed. Whichever one it was. “You alright?” ❧ @cfichor

[intentionpaved]

"it's food meant to be fancy and meant to make people feel important because they're spending money on it. have you seen the prices on those deconstructed meals? people say it's so you can better appreciate the flavors, but it sounds like bullshit to me." nearby, he saw a woman cast him an askance look, but eli ignored her. even though they were at the mayor's party and it was upper class, eli had a feeling it wasn't his language as much as his accent that was getting him the look.

"you have one of those?" he asked, dropping his voice some. "haven't had one of those in a while. but i have some friends that i drop food off to when i grill. not even close to the same thing, not that same kind of home comfort, but it's still free food." and free food was always good to have.

[pcisonpctal]

Elena listened before nodding. “Oh, yes. I do. Amazing cooking. Even insists you take at least a small portion home with you.” Did she truly have to mention what a small portion was in the eyes of those elderly, warm grandma types? A warm hug in box, with instructions to make sure to eat every bit and not once had she disappointed. “The shrimp over there is rather nice, if you’re looking for something not as fancy.” How fancy could shrimp really be? “Or the small meatballs. They did a good job making them look fancy enough. You just have to grab a fancy toothpick and a bit of overpriced cheese, I suppose.”

Although her voice remained quieter than that of the one next to her, the fact she agreed with every single thing he’d said was clear in her actions – and words. “Is that old lady at the church the same way? Tupperware and all.” ❧ @intentionpaved

[jasonxmacavoy]

Jason was well acquainted with the look in the woman's eyes, familiar from his shifts bouncing at the club. It was the one that read: get me the hell out of here, and Jason didn't hesitate at the silent call to action. A pair of steely blues trailed from the mystery woman to the guy she wanted to get away from. He didn’t offer him anything other than a scowl. His presence was enough to answer the question she hadn’t asked out loud. And his style, well— it had never exactly been subtle.  Nor was he the kind of guy to simply play along.

"Can't take a hint, huh." Jason approached, figuring this guy wasn't going to buy some half-assed excuse that someone like him — all leather jackets and purpling bruises — was grabbing drinks for a woman like that, even as he handed her the beer he'd snagged for himself. "Why don't ya run along now, yeah?" Jason added, cracking his knuckles with his now free hands. The look on the poor sucker's face was priceless.

[pcisonpctal]

It was a miracle; in all the ways something could be one. Elena couldn’t believe it. A silent plea for help answered and efficiently at that. The guy seemed almost pissed off, had it not been for the clear hint of worry in his eyes. Or was that fear? She didn’t want to lean too far out of the window, but damn she hoped it was the case. And then he bounced off and away. Of course, not without another glance back at them. “Thanks. Pretty sure you just sent him running for the hills. That, or we’re about to find him atop of the building over there.” Away from them, that was all she cared about.

A smile, as her attention focused back on the man who had come to her rescue. A hand was extended. “Elena. So, who did I have the honor of being rescued by?” It was a simple gesture. “Whatever the case, I owe you a drink or something. It’s the least I can do.” Even if technically all things were included in this public publicity stunt for the city, the gesture still mattered. ❧ @jaymacavoy

[emily-axford]

JENNA COLEMAN as EMBER MANNING The Jetty, Season 1 (episodes 3-4)

[seethingblooms]

Perhaps Elena felt pressured to perform considering the new and uncertain role she played in Tohum's growth, but Beren didn't feel much sympathy for her because wasn't that always a woman's role? A pressure to perform and deliver for others? They weren't allowed to complain, they weren't allowed to waver. What was it that Ginger Rogers said? She did everything Fred Astaire did, but backwards and in high heels? It was the truest possible thing.

"That's exactly what it means. We're not going to be bothered or let on that anything is wrong. Everything is always perfect in our world because appearances are everything." It was tiring, but it was true, and Beren wasn't about to falter after coming this far. "Tell me who approaches you and if anyone says anything strange."

[pcisonpctal]

A nod. That was all that was needed in that very moment. Elena wasn’t foolish enough to believe that this day didn’t come with pressure, a dire need to uphold appearances and assure that outsiders saw them as nothing but civilians and those in the known as nothing but professional people within their respective field. Anything beyond that was a bonus. The florist glanced around the crowd, sipping from the flute of champagne in her hands. This picnic was bound to hold more than simple gestures. In fact, with the melting pot of people from various gangs it almost seemed bound to go wrong.

“I will let you know about anything. If there is something I notice, any odd or shady person.” Despite the seriousness of the conversation, she still managed a smile, simply desiring to keep up appearances the way Beren had requested, nay, demanded of her and the others. It was a demand Elena could have ever dared deny the other. No, the thought never even crossed her mind. ❧ @seethingblooms

[txrtxrxdmuxsxdpt]

Location: Sunny Side Wake Ups

Status: Closed @pcisonpctal ( Elena )

It had been a long night for Jordan, there was a lot of demand so he had a very busy night. All he wanted right now was some breakfast because he was starving and a strong coffee to keep him awake throughout the day. And no, he didn't really get any sleep, nothing new though, Jordan definitely spent more nights awake than he did asleep anyways. As he came up to the counter, he took a seat on one of the empty stools. "Hey, late night or early morning?" Jordan asked Elena as he ordered himself some breakfast and a coffee.

[pcisonpctal]

Had it been minutes or hours? Elena couldn’t tell and by the time the question came drifting toward her ears the answer seemed almost impossible to grasp. “How about both?” The brunette dared turn toward the familiar voice, smirk on her lips when she spotted the face attached and was proven correct. “Late night that is about to turn into an early morning.” There was too much to be done; a delivery of flowers, restocking of floral attachments as well as some of the spicier things. A batch of exotic plants that could turn into the nicest of things if one used them to their advantage.

The brunette shifted in her seat, glancing at Jordan. “Do I even need to ask you which of the two it is?” Elena couldn’t help but feel that guessing would only result in her getting it right, given everything she knew about the other. “I suppose neither of us have time to slack off, hm?" And then more words were added. "How busy is work keeping you? Been a while." A while and then some. Life, ever flowing. ❧ @txrtxrxdmuxsxdpt

[burningxheaven]

Location: Stella's Clinic Status: Closed @pcisonpctal

With the spring setting in and the weather turning Neo and Fae had been spending more time outside. And with that came the argument about wearing her sweater. Neo was not surprised when she woke up this morning saying she didn't feel well and had a fever. "Mascari?" The attendant called out and Neo stood from his seat, Francesca in hand as he walked through the door and got settled in an exam room. A few minutes passed when Stella came through the door. "Sorry to be back so soon doc. Seems like she caught another bug or something."

[pcisonpctal]

One glance at the chart before she opened the door, the voice that carried its way toward her immediately familiar. There was a smile on her lips, entire lacking any form of annoyance a long day at work would bring. “You're lucky I'm not one for cliche commentary. Don’t worry about, though. I’m pretty sure getting sick isn’t limited by time.” And she meant it, honestly. A patient that needed care was a patient that would receive it so long as she could manage it all.

“Tell me, what do we know?” Stella had her moments of being the tough, straightforward doctor, yet when it came to the younger patients that always seemed to melt in favor of a smile, brown doe eyes staring back at any given child with a soft professionalism, accompanied with a smile. “Any symptoms that could help figure this out? Did she run a fever?” ❧ @burningxheaven

[silentends]

"Rude, Miss Moretti." Just because Diego didn't have any interest or aspirations in winning a beauty contest did not mean that he needed the reminder that he was a raw rib-eye in a nice shirt. It wouldn't be a surprise if his color was still off, or if he looked haggard, Diego knew he didn't bounce back as quickly as he did twenty years ago, or perhaps even ten years ago, but Diego never had any illusions that his job would kill him.

It hadn't yet, and so he'd keep on going. "I'll do my best not to get shot. Or stabbed." Or pushed out a window and impaled on an ice sculpture, since he doubted he'd receive points for creativity. "If you want, slip a sewing kit into my pocket and I can handle small emergencies." It wasn't even a joke, but a genuine suggestion. Diego didn't have any issue stitching himself up, although Stella likely did better work."

[pcisonpctal]

How long had they been a team? At the end of the day was it all that surprising that her reaction to his words were a shrug as she reached into her bag to pull out said emergency sewing kit? Her hand lacked a nervous tremble most others might have had at the idea of their patient stitching themselves up at a garden party, but Stella had gone through life knowing the one in front of her enough to know that his stubbornness outweigh whatever caution there was and thus she threw it to the wind, placing it elsewhere.

“I’d appreciate you avoiding getting shot or stabbed. Or anything remotely more creative than that. Essentially anything that keeps me from dragging you away unnoticed.” Sirens of an ambulance weren’t exactly something she could use. Only in life-or-death situations. Stella shrugged, sipping from her glass. With the pain medication within her system, she’d taken to replacing the wine inside with simple grape juice, nothing one could notice if one wasn’t looking for it. Juice packs were such a convenient invention. “There is tension in the air.” ❧ @silentends

[seethingblooms]

"There's a chance," Beren allowed, twisting a lock of hair around and around a finger to keep herself from crossing her arms. As much as she generally thrived at social events, Beren knew that parties had stopped being just parties for her as soon as she elevated in status to the leader of the Tohum. Part of her couldn't help but feel on edge and like she was walking into a trap because a raid on one of her businesses meant there was a vulnerability. There was a leak somewhere in her organization, there had to be, and what's worse was that if she came to that conclusion, so would the others. Who would want to do business with them if there was a threat of a raid?

"Never trust a politician, especially if they're smiling." She didn't want to be there, but she couldn't say that. "Appearances are everything, and we'll be poised no matter what direction things take."

[pcisonpctal]

Poised. That word left no room for misinterpretation. They had to appear a certain way and Elena was going to be the last person to dare ruin that. Her smile shifted, replaced instead by a look of serious certainty that she was going to try. “No matter what direction. You’ll hear no complaints from me.” A sip. “I take it that means we’ll be moving about as though nothing is wrong and celebrating the holiday with the rest of the people?”

A charade, nothing more than that. It wouldn’t be an actual celebration. In fact, none of this felt as though this was a celebration at all. A cover up; something that may have started with the same letter but that was as far as things went. “I trust your judgement.” The brunette always had and always would. And if there was something she could agree on it was the danger within the smile of a politician. ❧ @seethingblooms

[intentionpaved]

( @factionstarters , the mayor's party ) "i don't care how expensive these plates of - what is this, salmon? whatever this is, it doesn't matter how much it costs because nothing is better than what a little old church lady cooks." eli said as he frowned at the little slabs of meat artfully arranged on pieces of lettuce. or was that fucking kale? he didn't fucking knew, but he stood by what he said. "it's not that i think it's made with love or blessed by god or something, i just think they have those old family recipes that have been perfected over generations and they've spent their entire lives learning how to cook for the masses. i don't know if you've ever been to wildheart church during one of their fund raisers, but trust me, i mean it. food never tastes as good as when it's made by a church lady."

[pcisonpctal]

Elena chuckled as she listened to the rant unfolding, pleasantly surprised to find herself agreeing. Now, she wasn’t going to say no to the food they were serving. Some of it was nice, but he did have a point. Nothing was quite as nice as the food of someone with generations worth of family recipes. “Don’t have to convince me. I’d take that any day over this.” Her eyes drifted over the food. “It’s not bad but it’s not homemade, is it?”

The brunette took a step closer, trying to eye the other side of the buffet table. “Not just church ladies, though. That kind elderly neighbour can hit the spot just right with her cooking as well. Nothing better than that, something made with the right ingredients.” Love, patience, time, effort. ❧ @intentionpaved

[sebastianvb]

starter: open location: bacha-lacha

"Do you hear screaming?" That finally seems to get his attention; his ears perk up at the cacophony of shredded voices echoing below, and he slightly adjusts himself off the girls lap, buttoning up his shirt begrudgingly, different shapes and colors of lipsticks stamped all over its white collar.

"Not to sound like an expert... but it doesn't sound like the good kind of screaming." The scent of smoke invades his nostrils without permission, causing his pretty face to scrunch up in immediate distaste; clashing with the sugary smell of cherry liqueur and expensive cologne wafting off him and his table, "And this place is starting to smell a lot like Brooklyn—what the hell is going on here?" he asks to the first face he sees.

[pcisonpctal]

The bar incident had been a full disaster, panic spreading all around when she remembered the more secluded areas. Fast feet carry her, rushed steps toward checking if anyone was still within those areas. And, to no surprise, she did find someone. Fire extinguisher in her hands, clutched she still found a moment to lean against the wall in an attempt to catch her breath. “You might want to get out, now. There’s going to be more chaos. Fire.” It was stating the obvious, something anyone could have made out from things.

For a moment she stared at the guy, wondering if anything else needed mentioning. Did she truly have to mention the shots that he’d seemingly not heard? There was no need to push another individual toward panic and given the state he was in, or appeared to be, perhaps he’d manage to leave calmly. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.” ❧ @sebastianvb

[pcisonpctal]

❧ @intentionpaved (luca) ❧ the mayor's garden party

“I’d avoid those canapés.” Stella glanced over at the individual standing in front of the rather large buffet table, near a pile of rather vile hors d'oeuvres. They looked good but didn’t even remotely live up to the hype they had brought forth. Sitting by the buffet tables in order to give herself a moment to rest, to allow herself to not feel too out of it, she’d noticed plenty of people that had come and gone – and not even one had seemed pleased with the little nibbles presented to the guests. Of course, not everything had to be up to the taste of everyone in attendance.

Stella got up from the chair, turning to face the one in question. “Sorry, I just don’t think I’ve seen a single person picking up one of those and seeming happy afterward.” Not to mention the twisted faces some had made. The doctor had been avoiding the snacks in front of her for that reason. No matter how good they were looking, statistics told another tale.

[pcisonpctal]

❧ @jaymacavoy ❧ mayor's garden party

Small talk. Every damn party was filled with it. For the most part Elena didn’t mind. Loved it, in fact. This wasn’t just small talk. It was the biggest form of torture. A boring individual, droning on and on about a business idea. Not one the brunette even considered herself a part of. She’d simply gotten unlucky and while others had made their excuses and left, here she was, stuck. “Right. I’m sure that’ll work out. You should get a fresh glass to toast it.”

All the while her eyes were scanning the crowd, silently pleading that someone would come to her rescue. Anyone would do, anyone who wasn’t this guy in front of her. Or someone who wanted to join in on whatever dreams of grandeur this one had. And then she spotted someone that looked remotely like a potential savior. A plea was mouthed, hoping she had the attention of this individual, hoping they would simply play along.

[pcisonpctal]

❧ @seethingblooms ❧ mayor's garden party

“How likely do we think this is going to go south?” After the last few days, who could blame anyone for having those thoughts? Elena wasn’t one to talk around the bush, rather forward in certain moments. And who would know better than Beren? If she trusted someone to have an eye on things, to know stuff before it happened, that was the person she’d go to. “Honestly, after the last few days this just seems scummy. Fake.” Of course, there wasn’t a single doubt about there being something more to it.

With a sigh she lifted the glass in her hand, sipping quietly before she scanned the crowd around them. Some people seemed so oblivious, while others seemed to hover with painted smiles. It was quite the patchwork blanket of emotions.

[pcisonpctal]

❧ @backslashed ❧ mayor's garden party

It was a party, something normally enjoyed by the brunette. Not after the last few days. Chaos, panic, more chaos and a whole whirlwind of other things. That was all it had been. As though someone had kicked off an avalanche and now, she was making sure to give her best, to appear put together when truly she wasn’t sure what to make of such an occasion so soon after things had escalated, Easter picnic or not.

Elena moved toward the open-air bar, glad to find herself under an umbrella. Time had been spent observing, pacing; the usual in such a situation. Her hand reached out, aiming for the last glass of champagne on the tray. Suddenly there was a hand, faster than her but clearly second in the grand scheme of things. “I think we can agree that would have been mine, no?” Her head whipped around, a challenging look in her eyes, too fiery to give up.