Emma’s moved!
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@rivenstraws-a
Emma’s moved!
Mixed Drinks
|| @rostamic ❤ for a starter ||
“Whoa, buddy— hey, turn around!” Emma’s voice called over the crowd of laughter, music, and drunken shouting. She leaned over the bar, gray eyes narrowed even as she slipped out an incredulous laugh. Her hand shot a quick, short gesture to the drink in the strangers hand.
“You took my fucking drink!” She waved his in the air for emphasis. “Wanna trade?”
epiitaphs:
a sebastian starter for @rivenstraws
“Christ, someone ought to put a bell on you.” Or a phone alert just for him, so he’d know when another weird encounter was going to happen. “I’d say it’s nice to see you, but I’m never entirely sure whether it is or not.” It wasn’t bad to see her, or anything, but the way she simply happened to pop up places never ceased to make him just a little bit paranoid.
“How is the job working out? If it hasn’t gotten too weird, that is.” Assuming, too, that she’d taken it all. “I ask only because it seems like your threshold for weird is far lower than mine. Have the secretive envelope pushers gotten to you yet?”
“Uh— yeah, actually.”
Emma scratched the side of her head, glancing awkwardly down to her bag and back up at Sebastian. It seemed they always met unintentionally, bumping into each other constantly as though life were one big crowded elevator, but this time, she had actually meant to find him. Somehow, it felt weirder than just stumbling across him.
She pulled out a thick, blank, sealed envelope, and held it out in the space between them. Her brows furrowed slightly, confused and questioning and curious and— something else she couldn’t entirely name. Her lips quirked in a half-smile. “Special delivery?”
Munday Positivity
Repost, don’t reblog!
For some Munday cheer, tag your FIRST and LASTEST mutual and say why you followed them, something you appreciate about them, etc.
FIRST: @captladypants : MY LOVE. MY DARLING. MY SINFUL DELIGHT. I dunno man, I still love you to pieces and I love writing with you whenever my ass gets in gear. I would 100% be down to pick up some of our old threads again. I’m not surprised that you’re my first mutual on here since you’ve always been an amazingly supportive friend. Thank you, hun. <3
LAST: @marigenous : OF COURSE I had to follow you over to the new blog. Noah is a delight and I always enjoy reading your lovely writing. I really appreciate the way you take your time maneuvering around your character’s head, really allowing the reader to understand him instead of ONLY focusing on action. It’s awesome, and one day, we shall do a proper thread!
Tagged by: I’m the conductor of this train, so ME Tagging: @epiitaphs , @watsonofagun , YOU
epiitaphs:
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
It did, personally, to him, but that didn’t really matter, since it wasn’t his job. She seemed willing and able to socialize much better than he did. After all, she’d managed to keep up conversations with him of all people without tearing her hair out. Visibly at least.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they were doing either of those things. Any significantly large company probably does. They’re likely paying you with the money some millionaire’s saving by avoiding taxes.” Which didn’t sound great, but whatever. “A little fraud’s fine in the grand scheme of things. Besides, you don’t know if they are, and it sounds like you won’t be finding out either.” A win-win.
They’d probably been working towards this question for a while. “No, not at all. I’ve been out of the military for several years. I’m in private security now. It’s mostly risk assessment and sometimes looking mean. Running trainings, too. That sort of thing.”
As if she had any idea of that sort of thing.
“I’m a consultant, which I admit sounds like I ought to be stuck behind a desk and multiple screens at all times.”
“A little fraud’s fine in the grand scheme of things.”
“Pft.” There was amusement in the side-eye that followed, but Emma said nothing as Sebastian continued. Of course he would be fine with “a little fraud.”
She was tempted to tease him about it but then, surprisingly, he actually answered her question. Her brows raised, attention turned to him in full. The more they walked, the familiarity between them continued to settle into something that was strangely comfortable, amiable.
But still, a Consultant? Emma tilted her head in thought, a light hum of consideration as she pictured Sebastian consulting— which was essentially just telling people what to do.
“Sounds like the right job for you,” she said with a little smirk. “No wonder you make such a natural door guard.”
Self Care Saturday
CC Says—
I’ve seen a lot of ooc posts on my dash mentioning low moods, difficulty focusing, wrist pain, etc., which makes sense considering the Everything that is going on in the world.
As someone who has had depression/anxiety since childhood (thanks to a lovely little item called PMDD) I have a few resources that have helped me through-out the years. I hope it helps you too, friends.
Please take care of yourself. ❤
Yoga - anxiety relief, wrist pain relief, beginners playlist
Mental Health - Headspace App, Jour Mental Health Daily Journal (includes breathing exercises and reflection techniques that vary depending on what mood you input)
Writers Block - Writing Exercise Generator (apply a 5-10 minute timer for these exercises for an additional twist to help combat writers block. Do not fix typos, do not worry about flow, simply write until the timer goes out.)
epiitaphs:
He grinned. “I’ll hold most of my comments on that sentiment until I’ve gotten to my allotted time, I think.” Good was never the way he’d been greeted in the past. Leaning more towards resignation or annoyance, typically.
“I assume you simply hand the package over to the right person and avoid snooping around in it. Or something like that.” Though they really ought to have phrased it better - or found someone with fewer scruples. “I was a soldier - there’s always some degree of just getting it done and not asking questions. Honestly, for something like that, it’s probably better not to know. I doubt you’d be paid enough to deal with whatever it is they don’t want you to know - even if the pay is good.”
That was definitely the reason why the pay was so good, but that didn’t need saying.
“That part is strange, I’ll admit. But at least they’d be paying for it.” As if Sebastian wasn’t in a similar position - all very nice clothing being bought on Moriarty’s dime and often to his exact specifications. “The galas as well - did they say if you’d be doing anything there? Or just, I don’t know, networking?” Being a face in the crowd. Maybe they’d ask her to watch for something or someone, but that was a big ask for someone not in on company secrets.
“I suppose you’ll just have to decide whether the travel and pay is worth the rest of it. No job is without its weirdness. These people just seem to be more willing to admit it. At least it won’t be a surprise.”
“Yeah,” she admitted, “I’m basically just supposed to be networking, from what it sounds like. Make friends and all that.”
Emma mulled over Sebastian’s perspective, and much as she hated to admit it, he made some fair points. Maybe she was just over-thinking things. And besides, if things were shady and she didn’t know what was going on, wasn’t that better? From a legal stand-point, anyway— ethical was a different question.
“It’s not like they could be doing anything too bad, anyway,” the musing was almost too herself, “maybe they’re just, I dunno, fudging numbers? Putting funds in an oversea bank account? Which, ok, that’s still shitty, because you know they’re cheating something if they’re bothering to do that, but it’s not like— murder or kidnapping or something like that.”
She looked at Sebastian again, and this time, Emma didn’t bother holding back the curiosity on her tongue. “Remind me again— do you still work for the military? Like what’s your actual job title?”
epiitaphs:
Not particularly convinced yet, in that case. He shrugged. “I imagine so. I don’t know exactly what you’d be doing, of course, but I doubt it’s anything they’d bury you in an unmarked grave over.”
Okay, maybe not the most reassuring or helpful statement, but…there wasn’t actually a but there. It was simply unhelpful of him - as usual. But then again, he really couldn’t guarantee that she would be able to quit if she wanted to. But if they were hiring from the general populace, then it wasn’t going to be anything too compromising. Or at least that was his hope.
She looked over at him, calculating. He let her stare, not particularly concerned about what accusations or questions she might pose. Whatever she might ask, he definitely had a story for, and as long as he didn’t trip up, they were believable - and practiced.
“Not a bad choice,” he replied, the implication being that he would have judged her for something else, which was easily true.
He’d told her he was there to drop some papers and check on a project. If he said no, that either implied he was willing to do favors or that he’d been misrepresenting himself. “Not so much that I can’t have a beer.” He also didn’t trust her enough to want to drink too much, though a beer or two really wasn’t going to push him even close to trouble.
“I’m sort of half on-call - I may get the occasional text, but I’m not needed on-site. If I wasn’t available, I’d have turned you down.”
Emma nodded, thumbs slipping into the tiny front pockets of her pants. “Gotcha. Ok. Good.”
Lordy. When did the day arrive that she would say “good” to Sebastian not being busy? (Today, apparently.) What a weird day. She considered his earlier point; he had no idea what the job was. Truth be told, Emma barely understood it herself. The description was kind of vague, at best. There was a lot of wiggle room (was that intentional?)
“They said it was an assistant position,” she explained after a minute of considering if it was worth going into, “which, ok, that’s fine. But then they also want me to travel some, deliver documents, deliver items, whatever. Which again, totally fine— but then they mentioned how some of my work was confidential, even to me, so I’m not sure how I’m supposed to assist in something that I don’t know anything about?”
The words came tumbling out after that, all rolled into a huff as her nervous energy made way to frustration.
“And get this— apparently I have to wear name brands, like, specific name brands— which they pay for, which is weird— and they mentioned that I would be required to go to these gala’s or events or whatever, and, I shit you not, for a split second I was sitting in that fucking chair thinking, ‘Holy shit, is this a Call Girl thing? Did I apply to a fucking Call Girl thing?’ I don’t think that’s actually what it is, but it’s weird. It’s weird, right?”
epiitaphs:
“I certainly like to think so.” When he wasn’t driving people mad, at least, which she had experienced multiple times. Their meetings had never been planned, but Sebastian was good at thinking on the fly. And she was terribly easy to annoy.
“That’s good,” though it sounded like she wasn’t entirely thrilled by the offer. That would be something to uncover, especially if there was going to be the possibility of crossing paths in the future.
“Weird?” Not particularly descriptive. “I dunno, it depends on what kind of weird you’re talking about.” Really, she ought to include him in her weird scale. Maybe she did.
“If a place is big enough, there’s bound to be a few people who feel a little off - if you got that sense in the interview, then maybe it’s more than that. But I suppose it also depends on if you’re willing to put up with weird.”
He definitely was, but she didn’t need to know that. Or at least she didn’t need to know the extent to which he’d put up with strange and off-putting people.
“Yeah, I guess so,” Emma said without much conviction to her tone. She mulled some words around her mouth before adding, “I guess I could always just quit if it gets too weird. Right?”
They couldn’t force her to continue working there if Burbank Financials did end up being some some sort cover up for any number of shady business dealings. If she wanted to leave, she’d just leave. No issues. Right?
Right.
Gray eyes glanced at Sebastian and lingered, just for a second. What, exactly, was his job title again? Not doorman (that was just a hobby) he wasn’t active military, she didn’t think, (that detail seemed hazy, though, maybe he was active?) and he evidently traveled just as much as Emma did, judging from how much they ran into each other.
It was strange when Emma really stopped to consider just how little she knew about Sebastian, even after their many impromptu rendezvous.
“I think I’m going to get an Old Fashioned,” she mused, mostly as a means of distracting her own thoughts. Emma glanced at Sebastian again, her brow slightly raised. “Wait. Are you on the clock right now?”
epiitaphs:
“Yeah. It could have been a one-off. That’s the most likely scenario, I think. But I don’t want to take unnecessary risks, especially if things don’t sound right downstairs.”
An all out attack in the middle of the city was unlikely, but it wasn’t like he’d anticipated any of this.
Emma stared up at him and then through him. Shock might be setting in, he supposed. She wasn’t trained for anything like this. As long as she didn’t panic fully, they could get out of here. With an injury, there was no way that he’d be able to wrangle her if she lost it.
Her voice wasn’t strong, when she spoke, but at least she hadn’t gone completely numb, hadn’t screamed. “The only thing that matters right now is getting out of here. Listen to what I say. The only thing you care about right now is the next step you’re going to take.” Whatever happened afterwards wasn’t his concern, but while they were here together, his continued survival depended on her staying in control of herself.
Christ. “No. Not unless you can pull multiple weapons out of thin air.” And even then, it was a big if. It wasn’t worth risking his life. “There’s no situation where we walk down there and do anything but get killed ourselves.”
Normal people probably did think about that sort of thing. Sebastian had written off everyone else in the building from the start.
“All we can do right now is avoid whoever’s downstairs and see if we can get some sort of surveillance on the situation. Who fucking knows what the authorities are up to at the moment. If we don’t have to wait for them, we shouldn’t. But whatever the plan’s going to be, I don’t want to go in blind.”
“The only thing that matters right now is getting out of here. Listen to what I say. The only thing you care about right now is the next step you’re going to take.”
Emma looked at him, at the face which had served as a vessel for annoyance on so many occasions, and found that she was grateful. Found that she was compliant. Found herself following whatever he said to do because hell, at least one of them was making decisions. All that mattered was getting out.
What about everyone else?
All they could care about was the next step they were going to take.
Don’t they matter?
Quieting the voice in her heart felt like smothering it with a pillow. One thing that mattered. One thing they cared about. That was all.
“There’s no situation where we walk down there and do anything but get killed ourselves.”
The voice stopped reaching out, and Emma felt something inside of her shift. She gripped Sebastian’s arm just a little tighter and tossed back the hair that had fallen in front of her face. Eyes snapped to the second story door and her hand snatched the handle as though it would have run away, pulling it open to reveal a dark, abandoned hallway. The damage was less severe than upstairs. It almost looked normal.
“You said you wanted surveillance, right?” She murmured as his weight pressed back down on her shoulder with the effort of moving, stepping into the hallway and scanning the area for any source of light. “There’s gotta be a window around here somewhere.”
epiitaphs:
“Gladly.” He knew where he was going, she needed a drink - this was one time where she wasn’t likely to question him taking charge. Not that he expected to last. He did only have a ten minute window to lay into her, and then it’d be back to normal. “It’s not too far a walk.”
It made sense that she was curious, he supposed, but it did complicate his life. The usual lie about being private security would have to be stretched a little bit further here. He could tell her what was very nearly the truth about his presence, though. A few vague elements, a few specificities.
“A little, yeah.” Reasonably well. “I had an errand to do - my employer knew I’d be in the area today, so I was tasked with dropping off a few papers and making sure everything was on track for something that’s far over my head.”
She’d been there for an interview. He doubted he’d want to use her for anything too blatant, but if she did end up working there, he might want to put some safeguards in place. “Are we drinking to your new employment or did they take one look and send you away?”
“Ha, you’re fucking hilarious,” Emma mocked a deep laugh and shook her head, but the exasperated smile still hadn’t left her lips. She ran a hand through her hair, scratching lightly at her skull as the interview flickered once more through her thoughts.
“They offered it to me,” she said, though her tone conflicted with what should have been good news. “I just...I don’t know. I don’t know. They seem...”
Dirty. Untrustworthy. Unethical.
Illegal.
“...a little weird, you know? Have you ever picked up on that?”
She wanted to groan in frustration. Her thoughts flitted to the pay, the hours, the flexibility— the pay— Emma liked to think she had morals. She liked to think that for all the shitty mistakes she’d made in life, she wasn’t a bad person. Maybe not a good person but somewhere in-between, certainly.
Temptation never tasted so bitter.
ooc;
hi guys! bit of a shameless plug and an excuse for not being here. i was polishing my new novel that i’ve been writing for some time, and it’s finally published as an e-book of Kindle, B&N, Apple and more! if you’re interested in fantasy, morality and hidden character analysis (lol), you can go here to take a look and access the stores to get your copy. if you reblog this, it would make my day. i’m also willing to give away 5 copies in exchange for an honest review provided you have examples of past book reviews, just pm me on that. thanks so much and i promise i’ll be writing a bit soon! i’ll also make a proper promo on my personal blog when i find the login…
peacefulapostle:
𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐔𝐓 there isn’t much to do but sit and wait , not that paul minds . the rain beats down on the roof in sheets and the thunder rolls in the distance . this is what he LOVES and it sets him at ease when most would despise the storms . somehow he’s simply always found comfort in the passing summer storms , but it doesn’t leave much to do when sleep is still evading . ❝ you didn’t let me win ANYTHING . i won fair and square . ❞ he laughs but stills feigns a bit of offense as he tosses his cards aside . ❝ how could you POSSIBLY let me win anyway if you didn’t even know what cards i had ?? ❞
She hadn’t been expecting to pick someone up along the side of the road, but then, no one had been expecting the incredible storm that rolled in out of nowhere. Emma’s home, a converted bus that cost her more daily than she was willing to admit, had enough room for two, though barely. Chester, her young great dane, took up a fair amount of room by himself. Still, it was storming, and she had the room, and it seemed shitty to leave a guy walking along the interstate among rain and lightning.
Not to say that she hadn’t made sure her pepper spray was nearby, first.
But it was quickly evident that Emma wouldn’t need the pepper spray this time. Paul, as the man turned out to be, was nothing if not polite. When she pulled over to the side of the road with the intention of letting the storm pass, only to find her power generator glitched out again, he didn’t complain and suggested they play cards. Emma had lost three times in a row.
“Then the deck is rigged,” she insisted with a grin. They sat on the small couch along the side of the bus while Chester snored on her bed.
“Ok, new game. How about Rummy?”
epiitaphs replied to your post: How Adorable Are You? @epiitaphs…they’re tied. ...
seb would STRONGLY protest at that
As would Emma. She’s CLEARLY more adorable of the two.
How Adorable Are You?
@epiitaphs...they’re tied.
Tagged by: epiitaphs (indirectly)
Tagging: @watsonofagun @peacefulapostle
epiitaphs:
She nodded, and they kept moving. At least she wasn’t completely panicked. If he remembered properly, she’d been fairly level headed in situations before, but nothing was going to prepare anyone for this. He’d been poorly prepared himself, so he wasn’t going to go too hard on her - not while she could drop him down the stairs.
Those stairs were, simply put, hell. It took all of his scrambled concentration to take steps and make sure he wasn’t crushing Emma, that she wasn’t at risk of falling. So when she stopped, he looked over at her, confused. She met his gaze a moment later. “Fuck.”
Something had to be wrong. No way that people would be that quiet in a situation like this. He should have noticed. He had a concussion, sure, but that wasn’t really an excuse. At least she’d stopped. “Alright. We’re not going down there,” he told her, voice quiet. They needed to get out of the building, but they also needed to not get shot or blown up. The stairs were a dangerous place to be, even if they led to freedom.
He’d been in the blast, not watching it - it was hard to say how much of the building was intact. Structural soundness was a luxury they couldn’t afford at the moment. Trying to find cover could put them out in the open or have them opening a door to nowhere. But standing here, they were sitting ducks for anyone who wanted to go exploring.
“Someone’s making them quiet. Or there’s another bomb that they’re holding still for as it’s defused. Could be either.” They’d been too far away at the beginning of this to hear any shouting from down here. “We need to get out of here. To the second floor, what’s left of it. I need to find out if I can see what’s happening.”
He also needed to make some calls, but his phone was buried under rubble upstairs, so that wouldn’t be happening. Those who needed to probably already knew where he was. This wasn’t anything he knew about - that narrowed things down only slightly.
“If there’s hostiles they’ll pop their heads through here, but the building’s got to be too damaged for them to risk a full sweep. We should move.”
Emma’s head felt foggy, thoughts churning like thick molasses against a small spoon. She nodded but didn’t understand. The words were still processing. The stairs were still quiet.
“Someone?”
She hadn’t thought before, hadn’t wanted to think, of how the building suddenly gained a gaping hole in its side. The how didn’t seem important. Instead, she had focused on the fact that she was still alive, that Sebastian was still alive (and damn it all, he was an asshole but she didn’t want to see him dead) and that they could escape.
But now there was talk of people being hushed and bombs and hostiles—
and suddenly, Emma had an overwhelming urge to curl up on the couch with Chester and order take out. It seemed like such a silly, simple thing to want at that moment, but she wanted it with every fiber of her being.
She looked at Sebastian as though she’d never seen his face. He spoke as though he wasn’t surprised or had been expecting this, and she faintly recalled that he once told her he was in the army. Had he known, then?
Had he known that the building would be attacked?
Had he been part of the attack?
No, Emma decided, that was ridiculous. Why would anyone willingly stay in the same building they planned to destroy— unless something had gone wrong, unless it hadn’t been his plan, unless—
Some very, very faint part of Emma realized that she was spiraling. And she was shaking.
“Ok,” she said with a voice that tried so hard to be calm and strong and instead betrayed some deeply buried urge to cry, “Ok.”
She kept nodding. It didn’t feel like she could do anything else. She swallowed hard.
“Should we help them?”
epiitaphs:
Ah, he’d surprised her. Good. Sebastian, for all his many faults had his moments. As long as no one actually looked at the motivations behind his actions, he could pass as a decent person. Looking at motives? The decent person ship was dead in the water. Anyway, he’d wait because she’d given him an opening to be an asshole for 10 minutes and that seemed adequate payment - and something he wanted to cash in. They only saw each other once in a very long while, after all.
“You can count on me,” he said. “I’m patient.” Sometimes. When it came to important things. This wasn’t an important thing, but he had an afternoon free and clear, and he was curious to see just how far he could take the license to be an asshole.
Sebastian kept his word, hanging around outside the building, managing to look like he at least had a chance of belonging there instead of some loitering threat. It wasn’t too long before she reemerged, through the doors he’d been blocking only a little while ago. Looked like it had been quite the interview, judging by her expression and the state of her hair. Some of her expression may have simply been a reaction to the fact he was still around.
“As bad as all that?” he asked, amused. “Did you really think I’d give up the opportunity? But yes, we can get drinks. I know a place, assuming you haven’t got one in mind.”
He had no issues with the proposal. Never a bad idea to go for drinks. It was perhaps a wrong assumption that she wouldn’t know the area, but he didn’t know her well enough to actually know how long she’d been around. Still, he was quite sure that if she wanted to correct that assumption, she absolutely would. So not a bad gamble to start walking.
“Lead the way!” Emma said with a laugh birthed from exasperation, disbelief, and the general acceptance that her life was (and likely always would be) absurd.
Her purse felt heavy and her heels were already starting to pinch as they walked, but it was hard to focus on such things. She kept considering the job offer and the interview, spinning it around in her head. Owning a converted bus, as it turned out, wasn’t cheap. Between savings, repairs, gas, and camping fees, she was beginning to wonder if it was really all that better than paying the cancelation fee for a lease.
But oh, how she did love those open roads.
“Do you know those guys?” she asked as they walked, gesturing behind them to the building that had disappeared from view as they rounded a corner, “Burbank Financials? Is that why you were there?”