Much as Sylvanna liked the Solstice fire because it was just one big party for the whole town, she hated the season it fell in. At the moment, she was standing in front of the fire, arms crossed in an effort to keep the wind from crawling under her coat, trying to will the flames to unthaw her toes. She was about to give up and finally go get some spiced cocoa when she felt a tap on her shoulder. "Hi, um... I'm sorry, do I know you?"
Oh no. She somewhat recognized this person, although she couldn't place how. All Reese knew was that they were definitely cool, and thanks to a rock, this situation was about to turn very uncool. "No, I don't think so. But I just feel so safe with you for some reason. Anyways, I'm sure you hear this a lot, but I think I'm in love with you?"
Mickey was at the bonfire she did not know what to expect so it was time to make the most of tonight and have fun she was looking for a drink once Mickey would find the drinks she would walk over to where the drinks where and grabs one then she feels someone tap her shoulder and turns around with smile. "Sure what is it that you need to tell me."
The 'challenge' seemed simple enough. For someone so good at framing the truth in a way advantageous to her, though, she was kind of bad at creating lies out of thin air. "My middle name. It's Eunice. I've been telling people it's Aaliyah, but it's really Eunice."
Standing at the bonfire and letting the flames warm her, a small smooth rock in her hands, Reese looked around her as if to make sure no one was within earshot while she mumbled quietly to herself. "Stone of half-truth.... okay." She could sense the irony in feeling like her entire life was a half-truth, but this seemed to be indicating something a lot less dire. Sure. No problem. Before she could lose her nerve, she walked up to the first person she saw, tapping them on the shoulder and giving them a somber expression. "Listen, I'm glad you're here. I have something to tell you."
closed starter for beau ! @beaumontsterling
where: solstice bonfire bash
She'd been eyeing the table of goodies by the bonfire all night, but Reese had been so caught up mingling and enjoying the open circle she hadn't had a second to peruse the offerings yet. Mostly, she was excited for spiced cider, but at the other end of the table where the baked goods were lined up neatly in a colorful display, she thought she spotted the outline of a familiar figure from the back. "Hey, Sterling!" Opting to put the cider on the backburner for now in order to do even more mingling â she'd get to that warm brewed goodness sooner or later, eventually â the girl trotted herself over to Beau's side, pointing out the sugar cookies. "Don't tell me you made some of these? I wasn't gonna indulge myself but I might have to if you had anything to do with the setup here." She always remembered the details of people â clients, neighbors, family friends. Even the ones that seemed unimportant or uninteresting. Not because she made it a point to befriend people, particularly, but it often was a side effect of being an extremely observant person. And one of the first things she'd memorized about Beau from all those times of finishing his daughters' half-eaten cookies when they'd gotten into them during her babysitting days, was how absolutely ethereal his kitchen skills were. "Or, did I happen to catch you writing a review in your head? Let me guess, all sparkle, no substance? On second thought, don't tell me. It'll ruin my holiday spirit," she teased.
she really must be distracted , realising belatedly that she'd turned to reese for backup . they'd never gotten along , even if she secretly knows the other is good at her job . not that lila would ever admit it aloud . green eyes roll at reese's response . â hissing ? creative . though i suppose i'm honoured to have your support . â she says sarcastically , watching the other woman , rather than look at the man at all . but reese is correct . she is already coming up with ways to ruin this man's life . especially because if he hits on her , then could he potentially be hitting on other women ? she rolls her eyes when she catches her mouthing she-demon and makes a shooing motion with her hand at the guy . â i am sure i can track down plenty of life-ruining information on you . â
"Strange. Almost sounds like a compliment coming out of your mouth, Lila. And gratitude, too? You must really be desperate to get rid of this bonehead." Reese mused, enjoying herself just a little bit too much at the fact that, not only were they discussing the guy as if he wasn't even there, but that for a small moment, she was witnessing Lila seeming displaced, even if it was fleeting. But when the choice was between putting some loser dude in his place and leaving Lila to her own devices, she'd still pick the first option any day. "And honestly, I can't say I blame you. What kind of freak hits on a girl when she's out having a nice day with her kid? That's just classless."
"No, no, I'm not." Came his reply when Reese asked if he was going to test them out. He wanted nothing more than to do just that but a fear like no other gripped at every inch of him. He had already lost so much to his injury, had forgotten things he held so close at one time and if he never tried the drums again, then he wouldn't know if that was something he had forgotten too. It was almost better that way, not knowing instead of knowing he had lost the memory of how to play as well. But damn, did he want it more than anything. He needed the music back in his life, needed the feeling of the drum sticks in his hands, to hear the clash of cymbals and feel the vibrations of the snare. James lived for music, hell, he was going to college for it before he had dropped out- But this, being faced with getting back behind them, he had no idea if he would bring himself to it or not.
As the drum sticks were held out to him, it almost felt like the air had been knocked out of him. He hadn't even touched the pairs he had at home, had simply let someone else box them up with things that now sat forgotten about in his closet. He wanted to protest, wanted to tell Reese no, wanted to walk away from the entire situation, follow after her as she looked around instead but before James could stop himself he reached out, fingers wrapping around the drum sticks. Almost instantly it was like a missing piece of him had been replaced. Without a second thought he took one, tapping it a few times against his thigh like he had done a thousand times over before out of habit.
Giving a shake of his head at her suggestion, knowing that he was being beyond stubborn. Maybe he owed himself this. Maybe after everything he had lost, the pieces of himself that had been ripped away, maybe he owed it to himself to see if he remembered something that he loved. Maybe this would be living instead of just surviving day to day like he had been doing for the last few months. "I hate you." He muttered, though he had a feeling that Reese knew that there was no truth at all behind his words as he drew in a breathe and took a step forward. One step at a time. He could do this, he couldn't let the accident take everything he loved.
Carefully he raised the drum sticks, eyes on the cymbals he had been missing with earlier and brought one down, letting the sound ring out and encase him in something he hadn't felt in quite some time. Licking his lips nervously, James brought up the other drum stick, tapping out a little quick 1-2 beat on the cymbals, barely having to think about what he was doing. It came naturally to him instantly again. But just because he could beat out a pattern didn't mean he remembered anything else so he took a step back, looking over at Reese. "I think that's as good as it gets for me these days." Not having given it a full try, a little beat was nothing, already feeling the itch to get behind the kit but fighting every single urge he had.
It wasn't that Reese was the way she was because she wanted to be a dictator all the time. Honestly, if she cared less about the things and people in her life it might be easier to be a bit more relaxed with them, but that just wasn't her way of doing things. She was being supportive, really, she was. Just in the way that gave a little bit more of a... push. But. That didn't mean she couldn't see the turmoil on his face, and, though she certainly wouldn't admit it, she could relate to the fear of not being good enough, not measuring up. Of thinking if something wasn't exactly the way you wanted it to be, then what was the point of it? A lot of people probably felt that way. The only difference between them and her was she never gave herself a second to hesitate, a moment to breathe. It was always either hit the ground running or risk falling flat on your face, so she only ever hit the ground running. And James would get there, too. Even if it was just for this one thing.
For a split second, she wondered if maybe she was on the wrong track, if he might just quit before they even began. But then, out of the corner of her eye she saw his fingers relax enough to tap the sticks against his leg, almost like a comfort exercise, and she knew they were in business. "No you don't," she retorted, only giving him a look that was similar to the one she shared with her sibling when they were being equally dramatic. "Look, just humor me. If you get stuck, I'm right here."
He might've been nervous, but there was no denying the ease with which his hands seemed to hold those sticks, the way his shoulders seemed to tense, and then slowly dip into relief. Music really did feel like coming home. Every time. She knew it, everyone with the same love for it and the same drive with songs constantly playing background music in their minds knew it. And he knew it, too, she could see it written all over his face. Even if he was obviously scared the rug might get pulled out from under him. "Are you kidding! I can tell you're just dying to keep fiddling over there. Wait one second." Clearly, there was still some hangups keeping him from letting himself just feel it, almost like he was afraid to let go too much. Normally, Reese could relate to that feeling, as the state of being firmly in control was almost a sort of homeostasis for her, but music was also the one place that she never seemed to think about that. Or really, think much, at all.
A moment later she'd returned, strapped with the guitar she'd seen earlier. "What were you doing just then? You were definitely going somewhere with it. Was it like..." Her fingers moved to pick at the strings, stopping after the 1-2 to look at him. "That?"
By far, one of the hardest things since his return home for James, was reconnecting with his friends. A part of him had been afraid that they wouldn't want anything to do with him, that he would be a burden of some sort to them now, but slowly as the weeks turned to months, he had started to reach out more and more. And when it came to Reese, well, James would be forever thankful for the friendship that the two of them had. Knowing that he could count on her and that when he might need a push to do something, she was there for it too.
Which is partly how the two of them found them selves at a music store. The fact that Reese understood his love of music and instruments- even if James had very much been afraid of getting behind a drum kit since his injury, was something he adored about their friendship.
While he had forgotten so much, there was something about the possibility of not remembering how to play the drums that made his stomach clench. Music had helped him through so much, had gotten him through some dark moments in his life, and he breathed for the drums. And every time he thought about not remembering them, it unsettled him. So he stayed in the dark, refusing to even think about getting back behind them. Until now.
The drum set had caught his eye the moment they had walked in. Much fancier than the old one he had sold when he was in the army. Everything about it was perfect. So much so, that he couldn't help but drift away from Reese mid conversation to walk over to it. Still hesitating about sitting on the sleek stool. Instead James let his fingers brush over the cymbals, feeling the coolness beneath his fingers. There was no doubt a longing there, to get back behind them, to see if he had truly forgotten something he had loved so much. All he had to do was grab some drum sticks, take a seat behind the kit- James gave a shake of his head before he turned to face Reese.
"Sorry- what were you saying?" Realizing he had completely zoned out at the conversation they had been in the middle of having.
There were few things in the world Reese loved more than a problem to solve or a project to work through. Helping James reacquaint himself with music seemed like the perfect way to get him back to some sense of normalcy, but more importantly, she knew firsthand you didn't get into the classics the way he did without a real love for it. And anyone who loved music the way both of them did and didn't indulge in it fully, was only hurting themselves. Music was power. Music was healing. And even more importantly, it didn't require coherent thought or piecing a bunch of connecting parts together. It was all about feeling and flow, really. Even the greatest of the greats knew that.
Almost as if she could read his mind, she took one look at him eyeing the drum set by the corner and tilted her head. "It's okay, I promise they won't bite. Not unless you want them to." And, she assumed maybe he'd move closer, maybe even assume his spot in the stool, but more moments passed, and they were still exactly where they began, even as he traced the cymbals with his fingers longingly. Reese cleared her throat. "...So you gonna test them out, or what?"
But his response made her cross her arms with a furrowed brow, almost starting to feel anxious herself to get the ball rolling. Admittedly, patience had never really been her strong suit. "James! That's it, get in the chair. - Wait." She looked around for the sticks, before pulling them from the wayward resting place they clearly didn't belong in that another customer must've left them in, and offered them up to him with a pleasant, but expectant look. "Don't think of it as playing. Just, mess around a bit at first, yeah? Like if you were deciding if you were gonna buy them and you wanted to hear all the different sounds." She'd eyed a guitar over by the other wall a moment ago, just in case she needed to provide something other than verbal encouragement to make him feel more comfortable. But for now she just stood, seeing how he'd react to getting back on the horse first.
Location Pinned at:Â Sandpiper Point Beach
With:Â Reese (@reesekeller)
Based on: Chasing Cars - Snow Patrol
The sand was cool beneath Savannahâs palms as she leaned back, letting the night breeze lift a few strands of her hair. Her car was parked a few feet away, headlights off, the faint ticking of the cooling engine the only reminder they hadnât been here long. They always ended up in places like this: quiet corners, half-lit fields, anywhere the rest of the world seemed to forget about.
âGood view.â The blonde murmured, nodding up at the sky. The stars werenât unusually bright, but something about the space between them felt soothing. âKinda makes everything feel⌠slower.â
She didnât elaborate. She didnât need to. Reese knew her well enough to read between the lines, and she hoped the other wouldnât tonight. Or maybe she hoped Reese would. She wasnât sure.
A firefly drifted near them, glowing once before disappearing again. Savannah followed it with her eyes, then glanced toward Reese; quickly, casually, like she was checking the time.
âYou ever notice,â She started, picking at a shell wedged in the sand, âhow itâs easier to breathe out here?â A small shrug. âWith no noise. No plans. Just⌠this.â Us. She wanted to say it with her full chest, but couldn't find the words.
Her voice was light, almost airy, but her pulse tapped at her throat. She didnât turn toward the other again, but she could feel Reese's presence: steady, familiar, a comfort she pretended she didnât lean into as much as she did.
âIâm glad youâre here." She added, quieter, as if it were just another observation.
Like the stars.
Like the breeze.
Like something she wasnât supposed to examine too closely.
She lay back on the sand, hands folded on her stomach, looking up.
âYou make the quiet feel... different." She said with a small smile that she wasn't sure the other could see.
Reese often read of people describing silence as deafening: thick and heavy like a blanket of snow. And maybe it would've felt that way, with anyone else. It sure felt that way when she was all alone with her thoughts, which was why she'd always turned to music in the first place. But one thing about Blue, was â the way she saw the world in lyrics, the way she always seemed to echo traces in all of her favorite songs . . . Savannah Blue McAllister was music given human form. So with the two of them always decorating shadows together, she never seemed to mind the quiet with her best friend by her side too much.
"It really is." Her gaze drifted over to her friend, preferring to watch the stars reflect in her eyes than to watch them with her own, not because it wasn't a beautiful scene, but because it almost felt like she could feel things through Savannah more somehow. Like the emotional wall she put up around everything and everyone, even herself, melted and she was left with the warmth of the girl across from her living life at full throttle, in full color. It was one of the things Reese admired most about her, and also one of the things she wished she could've emulated.
Only when Blue had followed the flight of the firefly over to herself had she realized she'd been staring almost a little too obviously, quickly breaking her gaze and trying to cover it with a casual sigh, nodding gently. "All the time." It almost pained her to hear the softness in the blonde's voice, so sweet and sincere, floating through the air the way Savannah floated rhythmically through life. And, the way she floated through her mind, all the time. While neither of them had turned to look back at each other again, Reese still took a side-step closer, wanting to be a bit nearer even with the sky still holding their gaze.
She never did stuff like this. Even as a kid, she'd always had her nose buried too deep in books to appreciate things like stars. Fireflies and the breath of night air were only things she contemplated when Savannah made her feel like it was okay to relax in the in-betweens. The quiet between the loud, the moment of faded silence between songs, the space in the night between daylight. Damn. Even when she'd said that, it still didn't even feel quite real. It always felt like the in between with Sav was where Reese found herself as someone else, but really, if she'd been thinking about it more honestly, it was probably the one and only place she was really, truly, fully and completely, herself. And it was the only person she wanted to be right now.
"Here, like, alive? Or here, like...." Plopping down into the sand alongside her, Reese leaned into Savannah's shoulder with a nudge and a playful smile. "Here?" Her eyes returned to watching the night above them, but she left herself close against the other's side, almost as if she forgot she hadn't started there to begin with. But this time, it was her turn for her voice to go soft. "I know what you mean." The world in her head seemed to fight for a moment on whether to elaborate or not, but despite all the normal flags that would've told her not to, that pesky comfort and familiarity with Savannah always won out and wrapped her in the strangest, strongest sense of safety like a warm hug. "Usually loud feels good and normal. Like... the wind in your hair, or the thumping of a really good bassline." Or like parents arguing on the other side of the wall, followed by the drum and relief of blaring headphones. "I don't think I usually let myself exist in silence like this. Unless it's with you. Who knows, maybe you're the only quiet that makes sense to me." Maybe she was the only anything that made sense to her. But that part would stay unsaid.
she has taken more days to work from home since returning to work from her baby leave , and this is one of them . even though she can afford the childcare , her daughter brings her joy . so here they are , hidden away in a corner of one of her favourite cafĂŠs . the place isn't crowded , so she arches an eyebrow when a man asks to sit with her . saying something about her being cute and seeming nice . because the lady with the baby who keeps glaring at people who bother her is just so welcoming . the blonde shakes her head . â we don't share . â she replies . certainly not to be hit on .
â so get lost . â she snaps when he starts to try to convince her , shifting to adjust the wrap holding her daughter against her chest . â or i will happily remove you myself . â she glances at the person at the table nearest her . â is he for real ? â
She'd been watching this all happen only halfway aware â honestly, she had better things to do and more important things to worry about than listening to a cringey, vapid man shoot his shot with one of Blythe's Stepford mommies. But, had she tuned in enough to realize earlier that she recognized the voice of the other woman, she might've been slightly more invested. Not interested, that would be pushing it too far, but it was almost entertaining to watch Lila tear someone to shreds, as long as that someone wasn't herself or one of her bossâs clients. "Was that directed at me? Sorry. It's hard to tell sometimes where you're aiming your hissing. I'd listen to her if I were you, dude," she shrugged, taking the moment to remove her earbuds and place them neatly on top of her papers in front of her. "Not because she's scary, which she is, but because doing anything in the vicinity of Lila Gillory without her direct approval usually results in the unwarranted derailment of your life." Her brows raised at the guy, and she added only two mouthed words in a convincing nod, lips moving animatedly without muttering a sound: 'she-demon.'
â.Ë âźâđźď˝ĄÂ AHOY, MATEY! Do you hear OH NO! BY MARINA, by any chance? Must be REESE KELLER. Word around the cove is that SHE could be really RIGID, but also very INSPIRED when you get to know HER. The PARALEGAL (IN TOWN) & BASSIST OF LIPSTICK REVOLVER has been staying over at MORENO CIRCLE for HER WHOLE LIFE, now. Time sure does fly being 26. Looking like MADISON BAILEY must be tough around all these tourists - and it doesnât help giving off those HANDS PERMANENTLY ATTACHED TO A CLIPBOARD, OTHERWISE PICTURE-PERFECT APPEARANCES BETRAYED BY WILD HAIR BEGGING TO BE LET LOOSE, BOOKSHELVES FULL OF BULLET JOURNALS & HEADPHONES BROKEN ON ONE SIDE FROM PLAYING THE MUSIC TOO LOUD vibes, either. Well, whatâs a LEO CIS WOMAN to do?
âââââ ââ âźâ â A chrome gel ink uniball pen with a 0.38 mm tip sat wedged in the spiral of her notebook, not the notebook â she had several, this one was specifically for work brainstorming, as clearly indicated by the label on the cover, but her trusty, "notebook of notebooks" was safely tucked inside her messenger bag â before Reese could stop her nails anxiously tapping at the edges of thickly weighted paper to pull it and write down just one more idea before turning in for bed at the healthy hour of midnight.
i know exactly what i want and who i wanna be !
Reese Keller was born to two middle class parents in a bustling part of Blythe Cove, central and charming like all townhouses in the area. She was an addition to a household with one other existing child, and with her arrival, the picture of a perfect family became that much more picturesque. Two parents, two kids. Just like the little plastic tokens in the little plastic car in the board game of Life.
And appearing to be perfect was infinitely more important than actually being that way. It didn't matter if her mother failed to be particularly nurturing, or that her father was more absent than he was present â they still showed up to church every Sunday as one unit, and when her mother was out with a toddler in tow exchanging pleasantries with the other moms around town, the pride in her eyes was the life force Reese came to know as love. Safety, kindness, connection â all of those things were relatively inconsequential, as long as there was pride. Even as a small child subjected to violin lessons and latin exercises, expressed in talent shows and shining report cards, that was the one thing she quickly learned she could never lose.
And, twenty-six years later, she still hasn't quite figured out how to do that without sacrificing parts of herself. She often has reasoned that the person who has everything together and never steps out of line is still herself â but what is also often ignored is that there are other parts of herself that don't exactly fit into that mold. And they only seem to grow larger with time the more she wrestles with keeping them under wraps.
i know exactly why i walk and talk like a machine !
High school valedictorian and 4.55 college GPA - check. Musical prodigy and master of several instruments - check. Wardrobe filled with neatly pressed business-casual clothes - check. Personal identity? Well. It's there, but it only seems to let itself out after hours, when Reese feels relaxed enough to give herself a few moments of indulging in something she wants for herself, not for her parents or anyone else. That's when soft cashmere turns into distressed leather and black lavender tea turns into long island iced teas. And in the melodies and chaos of Lipstick Revolver, surrounded by the girls she loves more than anything in the world, the few who have heard her utter the words "I love you" unironically, she could almost swear she feels at home. But to admit that would mean to admit that part of her is lying, and she's not willing to investigate which part that is. Or to even try to understand if those two halves of herself could somehow coexist.
i'm now becoming my own self fulfilled prophecy
Her mother doesn't understand why she doesn't just go to law school already â 'after all, that's your namesake!' Reese can practically hear the words in her voice for the thousandth time, as if she needed the reminder that she was predetermined for something before she was even born. And, also for the thousandth time, she has to remind her that she's saving up money, doing it the right way, because she doesn't want to start her career with a mountain of debt to sift through if she can help it. But the people in her life are starting to wonder if the hesitation isn't more than just sensible preparation. Some people, like her mother, prefer to live in comfortable delusion, but anyone with their eyes open would be able to see she isn't happy. In control (nevermind that her plate is so full it feels like it could topple at any moment), brilliant, magnetic â she's all of those things, unquestionably, but happy? Well. She's always known that appearing so is infinitely more important than actually being that way.
oh, no ! oh, no ! oh, no, oh !
a full stat sheet is coming later, but for now i wanted to give some connection ideas / plotting jumping off points:
why did you let me do that ???: I have this funny idea for a connection that is, one night after an accidental over-indulgence of drinks she swore she thought was punch, either at a party or bar depending on what we decide, Reese just thought it was the best idea ever to get a tattoo ... and this person was right there along for the ride. Maybe they're friends now or maybe this was just a one-off, but Reese is probably mortified that they saw that release your inhibitions !! feel the rain on your skin.mp3 side of her
mutual respect, mutually assured destruction: your stereotypical 'rivals' plot, open to anyone who always seems to be trying to beat her out for something, whether that's job positions, grade point averages, or any other variation of real or perceived flowers. If your character works in law, is a musical genius, or is an equally insufferable overachieving nerd hmu !!
immovable object meets unstoppable force: basically opposites attract kind of friendship of, I am going to be a good influence on you whether you like it or not. Reese is incredibly stubborn and obsessive when it comes to projects (non-derogatory) and your character is no exception.
there is also a tag for additional ideas/dynamics here !
some more general notes and hcs until I finish my stats page:
closeted lesbian with religious trauma undertones. yes I'm originalâ˘
she knows several languages and plays several instruments, and has a penchant for collecting useless facts and trivia (she's basically an information sponge) but she doesn't necessarily like to advertise how learned she is. In the past it has alienated her from making friends so she has adapted to only being overconfident about socially acceptable things, like how cute she is (joking. but also am I???) and how she's always right (asterisk)
her parents are divorced, and they do not get along. Reese is often caught in the middle since she's the "favorite"
has NO idea how to communicate feelings. like, genuinely, she's really bad at it. her love language is doing stuff for other people and making playlists. any emotion is easier expressed through music than through words. she probably once made a playlist to apologize to someone for forgetting to water their plant when they were out of town