❝ the dregs of whiskey at the bottom of a glass, an ashtray filled with red stained cigarette butts, perfume on pulse points, abandoned faith, hidden tattoos with hidden meanings, always one foot out the door, trust issues that have trust issues, little white lies and even bigger black ones, a silk strap sliding off a shoulder, a bated breath, a whispered name, always having an excuse, but more importantly an escape plan, naked naps, disheveled hair, leather jackets stolen from old almost somethings, family rings and family rap sheets, double shifts and double shots, unfinished lines of poetry scribbled on a forgotten page”
NAME (ALIAS): Asena Kaçar
NICKNAME(S): She exclusively goes by Sey in town, to the point that few would know it's even short for Asena
NEGATIVE TRAITS: secretive, resentful, possessive and jealous, stubborn, emotional, dominating, deceitful by default
family.
MOTHER'S COMMON ALIAS: Leman Yazici
FATHER'S COMMON ALIAS: Ahmet Yazici (incarcerated)
"AUNT'S" COMMON ALIAS: tbd whenever her children are in game
"UNCLE'S" COMMON ALIAS: tbd whenever his children are in game
SIBLINGS: tbd when they're both in game
tldr.
TW: Crime/Con artistry, Robbery, Manipulation and Deceit, Unspecified traumatic event
The first and most important thing to know about Sey is that everything you'll ever be told is a lie. There are very few exceptions to this rule. Her name is not her name, her birthday is a mere swing in the dark, and wherever she claims to come from is not where she has been. It's nothing personal, it's just the way she is. She's never really had a choice in that, either. Until now.
Even if her identity in Blue Harbor is one big lie she intends for it to be her last lie. Her final con.
and by that I mean to say that Sey was born to a family of con artists, who operated with another family of con artists, and was in turn raised to become one herself. truly, sey learned to lie before she ever learned there was a difference between fact and fiction. from her earliest memory she's always been a pawn or a prop in whatever scheme the adults were running that week. and then, once she was old enough to understand the truth of their lives and their "games" she was expected to participate.
whatever it says about her as a person (and surely it says a lot) she didn't even hate it all that much. it's hard to have a preference for a different way of life when conning is all you've ever known. as she aged it became very clear what role she'd play within their little organization and, for better or worse, she played it well. a little too well.
earlier in the year Sey and the five others of her generation were in California on a solo con (aka planned and executed without the help or oversight of their parents) when something went wrong. nobody but Sey and her best friend know exactly what went down in that house, at that party, but it was the catalyst for everything that came next.
Sey was different from who she'd been when she entered the doors that night and, even if she wouldn't say why, everyone knew it. after a few weeks of watching her withdraw into herself it was her best friend who invoked their childhood pact of "jelly sandals"-- in other words, a deal that no matter what they asked the other would agree. in this case, only the second time one of them had ever used that phrase beyond the fight over third grade footwear that started it all, her best friend begged to leave. not just California, or the all night diner they'd been sitting in, but the life. the jobs. their families.
and thus, blue harbor became their next and final destination. the pair lied to their parents and respective siblings, saying they wouldn't be arriving in Seattle to join the rest for the latest job because they were working one of their own that just so happened to fall into their laps. meanwhile, they were speeding down unfamiliar roads with one bag each, headed for Illinois.
truthfully, there was nothing special about westport that compelled them to pick it for their fresh start. it was as simple as a few google searches and picking a random, 'nobody would ever guess here' spot on the map.
they've been in town for a month now and are doing their best to live on the right side of the line even if that means working minimum wage jobs and renting an apartment under the table that's seen better days because they have no resumes or school transcripts to secure anything better.
still, living far beneath what they'd grown used to (on someone else's dime) is surprisingly nice. for the first time Sey is letting little pieces of her true self show and forging connections she won't have to leave. probably. but, for as much as she's enjoying this complete 180 from everything and anything she's ever known, and even though she'd do anything for her best friend, there's a part of her that's worried she wasn't built to do life "honestly". there's an even bigger part that wonders how honest their lives here can really be if they're still convincing everyone around them with a lie.
wanted connections.
for current, in game characters: neighbors in Saugatuck, co-workers at Black Anchor, newly acquainted friends, someone she briefly met outside of westport that vaguely recognizes her but can't figure out why (especially since it would've been under a different name), someone who's lived outside of CT that was actual the victim or knows a victim of one of their cons - especially keen to find her "failed mark" aka the one she grew too attached to while on the job, ultimately either a) sabotaging the entire con to her family's dismay or b) conned anyway and has regretted it every day since, anyone who’s also been involved in shady business that she may be acquainted with through that part of her life
requiring a new character: the rest of the "six spiders" which includes her best friend (female) and roommate, her best friends older brother who she was always matched up with for jobs (angsty), their younger sibling who's a hot head and loose canon (any gender), her own siblings - one older brother, one UTP
Apple french toast with coconut yogurt, sauteed apples, and maple syrup, roasted squash with ricotta, pickled shallots, and drizzled honey—Sey hadn't frequented Manna Toast nearly enough to already have a 'usual' order. Hell, she'd only grabbed a cup of coffee from their menu a handful of times on her way home from work.
Her indecision was justifiable... but, at half past noon and smack dab in the middle of corporate Westports' lunch break, something told her the aggravated line at her back probably didn't care.
"Quick. I need your help before the townsfolk break out their pitchforks." Whispering (perhaps not so subtly) to the person directly behind her, Sey smirked. "What's your favorite here? Pretty sure if I don't choose something in the next half of a second they're going to start building my pyre in the middle of town square."
The early morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Blossom + Stem, casting a soft, golden hue over the shelves of fresh flowers and plants that filled the space with life and color. Desislava stood behind the counter, carefully arranging a vase of lilacs and daisies, the delicate scent of the blooms filling the air. The quiet hum of the town outside had yet to stir, and for a moment, she allowed herself the luxury of peace, her fingers tracing the petals slowly as she thought about the quiet life she was building.
The door's soft bell chimed, a new arrival for the day.
Desislava looked up, her dark eyes meeting the curious gaze of the person who had just entered. She straightened, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, offering a warm, welcoming smile.
"Good morning," she said, her voice soft but confident. "How can I help today?"
Halted just a few steps inside of the door, Sey glanced over to the pretty blonde behind the counter. The request she was about to make was an odd one—so unusual and particular she'd almost bet it had never been asked before inside these walls—but she couldn't be deterred.
Was her plan petty? To be sure. Did she care? Not in the slightest.
"Hi." A soft, somewhat impish smile danced across her lips. Coming straight up to the counter she leaned forward, an elbow planted on the top and her chin cupped into her hand. "I read that flowers have specific meanings behind them. You know, how some represent love or friendship or condolences."
Sey paused, one fingertip of her opposite hand delicately tracing the rim of an empty vase on display. "Do you think you could help me construct a bouquet that says 'I wouldn't kiss you if you were the last person on Earth and I hope you get syphilis?'."
❝ the dregs of whiskey at the bottom of a glass, an ashtray filled with red stained cigarette butts, perfume on pulse points, abandoned faith, hidden tattoos with hidden meanings, always one foot out the door, trust issues that have trust issues, little white lies and even bigger black ones, a silk strap sliding off a shoulder, a bated breath, a whispered name, always having an excuse, but more importantly an escape plan, naked naps, disheveled hair, leather jackets stolen from old almost somethings, family rings and family rap sheets, double shifts and double shots, unfinished lines of poetry scribbled on a forgotten page”
NAME (ALIAS): Asena Kaçar
NICKNAME(S): She exclusively goes by Sey in town, to the point that few would know it's even short for Asena
NEGATIVE TRAITS: secretive, resentful, possessive and jealous, stubborn, emotional, dominating, deceitful by default
family.
MOTHER'S COMMON ALIAS: Leman Yazici
FATHER'S COMMON ALIAS: Ahmet Yazici (incarcerated)
"AUNT'S" COMMON ALIAS: tbd whenever her children are in game
"UNCLE'S" COMMON ALIAS: tbd whenever his children are in game
SIBLINGS: tbd when they're both in game
tldr.
TW: Crime/Con artistry, Robbery, Manipulation and Deceit, Unspecified traumatic event
The first and most important thing to know about Sey is that everything you'll ever be told is a lie. There are very few exceptions to this rule. Her name is not her name, her birthday is a mere swing in the dark, and wherever she claims to come from is not where she has been. It's nothing personal, it's just the way she is. She's never really had a choice in that, either. Until now.
Even if her identity in Blue Harbor is one big lie she intends for it to be her last lie. Her final con.
and by that I mean to say that Sey was born to a family of con artists, who operated with another family of con artists, and was in turn raised to become one herself. truly, sey learned to lie before she ever learned there was a difference between fact and fiction. from her earliest memory she's always been a pawn or a prop in whatever scheme the adults were running that week. and then, once she was old enough to understand the truth of their lives and their "games" she was expected to participate.
whatever it says about her as a person (and surely it says a lot) she didn't even hate it all that much. it's hard to have a preference for a different way of life when conning is all you've ever known. as she aged it became very clear what role she'd play within their little organization and, for better or worse, she played it well. a little too well.
earlier in the year Sey and the five others of her generation were in California on a solo con (aka planned and executed without the help or oversight of their parents) when something went wrong. nobody but Sey and her best friend know exactly what went down in that house, at that party, but it was the catalyst for everything that came next.
Sey was different from who she'd been when she entered the doors that night and, even if she wouldn't say why, everyone knew it. after a few weeks of watching her withdraw into herself it was her best friend who invoked their childhood pact of "jelly sandals"-- in other words, a deal that no matter what they asked the other would agree. in this case, only the second time one of them had ever used that phrase beyond the fight over third grade footwear that started it all, her best friend begged to leave. not just California, or the all night diner they'd been sitting in, but the life. the jobs. their families.
and thus, blue harbor became their next and final destination. the pair lied to their parents and respective siblings, saying they wouldn't be arriving in Seattle to join the rest for the latest job because they were working one of their own that just so happened to fall into their laps. meanwhile, they were speeding down unfamiliar roads with one bag each, headed for Illinois.
truthfully, there was nothing special about westport that compelled them to pick it for their fresh start. it was as simple as a few google searches and picking a random, 'nobody would ever guess here' spot on the map.
they've been in town for a month now and are doing their best to live on the right side of the line even if that means working minimum wage jobs and renting an apartment under the table that's seen better days because they have no resumes or school transcripts to secure anything better.
still, living far beneath what they'd grown used to (on someone else's dime) is surprisingly nice. for the first time Sey is letting little pieces of her true self show and forging connections she won't have to leave. probably. but, for as much as she's enjoying this complete 180 from everything and anything she's ever known, and even though she'd do anything for her best friend, there's a part of her that's worried she wasn't built to do life "honestly". there's an even bigger part that wonders how honest their lives here can really be if they're still convincing everyone around them with a lie.
wanted connections.
for current, in game characters: neighbors in Saugatuck, co-workers at Black Anchor, newly acquainted friends, someone she briefly met outside of westport that vaguely recognizes her but can't figure out why (especially since it would've been under a different name), someone who's lived outside of CT that was actual the victim or knows a victim of one of their cons - especially keen to find her "failed mark" aka the one she grew too attached to while on the job, ultimately either a) sabotaging the entire con to her family's dismay or b) conned anyway and has regretted it every day since, anyone who’s also been involved in shady business that she may be acquainted with through that part of her life
requiring a new character: the rest of the "six spiders" which includes her best friend (female) and roommate, her best friends older brother who she was always matched up with for jobs (angsty), their younger sibling who's a hot head and loose canon (any gender), her own siblings - one older brother, one UTP
Sadie tilts her head, her gaze lingering on the woman for a moment longer than necessary. She’d picked up on the subtle shift, the way their body tensed, how her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. It wasn't the first time she'd seen someone react like that—sudden, involuntary wariness, like a reflex they couldn't quite shake off.
Her lips curl into a playful, almost teasing smile, but there’s an edge to it, something knowing. "Oh, don't worry," Sadie says, her voice light but with that characteristic sarcasm. "I’m not here to ruin your life with a candid shot." She raises her camera a little, as if to emphasize her point. "It’s not that deep. It’s just a photo."
She watches them, still reading the tension in her movements, the way her hands fidget. Sadie has seen this act before—hell, she could probably perform it herself if she needed to. But instead, she presses a little further, her tone softening, but not by much. "But seriously, I get it. Some people don’t want their face all over the internet, especially if they’ve got a past that could follow them around. Who am I to force you to relive it, right?"
Sadie lets the words hang there for a second, tapping her camera against her hip. "That said, I’m not exactly in the business of exploiting people either. If you’re really that opposed to it, I can take a pass. No hard feelings. But I am curious... if you don’t mind me asking—why the 'no pictures' rule? What’s the real story behind that?" She gives them an almost too-knowing look, like she’s already figured something out.
Had she said that out loud? The part about there actually being some sort of ‘no picture’ rule to abide by? Or was it just an eerie coincidence she chose to use that exact word now? Was she just being paranoid?
Yes, probably. Okay— definitely. Right?
Sey cracked another smile, no bigger than the last but no smaller, either. “I’ve never really liked being on camera. Blame it on an older brother who loved to draw demonic sharpie faces over mine in every single one as a child."
Actually, her older brother hand drew family photos while they were growing up, but he did tend to always make her evil in every single one so... same thing.
"Besides, when I moved here it was to get away from a risky situation. From someone, really." Sey allowed her to assume whatever she wanted with that information, remaining quiet throughout a heavy pause. "My face floating around out there could make it easier for them to find me."
Another, shorter pause ensued before she tacked on, "Crazy exes amiright?"
Lola's laughter filled the space between them as her hands wrapped around one half of her sandwich. Sey had been someone that Lola met at work, and they seemed, in her opinion, to kick it off as fast friends. She had dragged Sey here multiple times when they had a quick break to try it out. "Oh, no, no, no," she wagged an index finger as it held onto the sandwich. "I can't say that to you because when I'm stuck working an opening to close and want to drag you along, you'll bail."
Taking a nice, huge bite out of the sandwich, Lola's eyes rolled back into her head as her own moan echoed after Sey's. This sandwich was too damn good. "Well, I can tell you," she paused, bringing her thumb into her mouth to suck off some of the juices that had fallen down over it as she chewed. "It's definitely not better than mine." she teased, looking over to see what she had ordered. "Suck it up, buttercup, you act like you haven't worked a true day in your life." Laughter fell from her again before she took another large bite, letting one hand leave its hold on the sandwich to pop open the lid of the Caesar dressing she had on the side. "What's your schedule like the rest of the week anyways?" Dipping her sandwich into the sauce she waited on the answer.
Instead of responding she took a bite of her mystery sandwich—one of the vegetarian options, turns out— but the corner of her mouth twitched first.
Lola had no idea how close she was to being right about that.
“I’ve worked…” Sey finally supplied when a second bite had cleared her throat, but hesitancy settled into her pause. This—explaining her past without divulging her past—hadn't gotten any easier one month into 'normal' life. "It's just that I'm used to... shorter shifts with higher pay."
It was as close to the truth as she could get. Technically, she was used to shorter 'work' days and much, much higher pay. Everyone else in their little misfit band of derelicts did the heavy lifting when it came to a con. She was just the arm candy. The pretty face. The body used as bait.
"It's a lot different running back and forth between tables than it is taking your turn on a stage, you know?" Lithe shoulders lifted in a shrug. Sey tied off that train of thought with another bite. "Anyway, I'm off today and tomorrow then on the next four days straight. What about you?"
She had the good sense to be taken aback by his presence. Good. Although, she shouldn't be. It'd be more insulting of her and Daphne to think he wouldn't find them. Or that he hadn't noticed something's been off ever since the last job they picked them up from. You know, the one where they were found soaking wet outside of.
When every text and call sent to Daphne after the fact, asking what their ETA would be in Seattle went unanswered, Apollo knew he'd have to act. The Roths were nothing if not, excellent trackers. If it weren't for the mini GPS tracking device he had planted in Daphne's necklace, the same one he gifted to her last Christmas, finding them would've been difficult. Or at least, would've taken a whole lot more time and effort on his part.
Apollo knew he had to be inconspicuous when he left the others to assess what was going on. And it wouldn't be long, before one of Sey's own brothers followed suit. Far as they knew though, he was making sure that one last piece had fallen into place. On the contrary, their next gig was ready to go. It has been for months. It's been planned and walked through countless times since July. Many of which run throughs Sey and Daphne had been present for. Without them there to do their parts, there's no telling how the job would play out in the end. Sure, they could improvise. They've done it before but, it'd be way riskier. And their chances of getting caught would skyrocket. They'd need to say a prayer just to get through it.
"No?" Funny. He hadn't asked her anything yet. Sey was smart enough though. To know that one of two things was coming. One, being a load of questions by his truly. Or two, a lecture. Luckily for her though, Apollo wasn't his father. He had no intentions of reading her the riot act. Not yet. Not unless, she otherwise forced his hand to and doing so became absolutely necessary for the job.
Job first, everything else second as his parents would always say.
"So, this apartment then...." He removes himself from the hideous beige wall to take the few necessary steps closer to her. With his 6'5 towering build, she appeared tiny in comparison. If Apollo wanted to he could bend down, hoist her over his shoulder and physically carry her with him back to Seattle. Daphne, too. He had a modicum, or at least enough self respect for her that he didn't do that. "It hasn't been leased to a .... Asena Kaçar? A woman who fits your description right down to the dark hair and bony ass?" It's meant to be an insult. Considering they both know her ass is far from bony. It's voluptuous. There's ample amount of cushion there to be groped, to hold onto and squeeze with both hands. In fact, Apollo's had to watch many hands fondle that very ass in a multitude of positions, and on more than one occasion.
At a nightclub in Vegas.... at an old country club in Whitehaven. Hell, even at that hotel in Jordan.
"What I'm having the most trouble understanding is not the what but the why." Why was she renting out an apartment with his sister in the middle of bumfuck nowhere? Is this some weird side gig they picked up on a whim again, and he didn't know about? And why couldn't it wait until AFTER Seattle? "Whatever," he attempts to brush the minor details off in favor of what's more important to him. Which is Daphne. "Where's my sister? I'm adept enough to know this has her name, not yours, written all over it. Let me in so I can talk to her. Then you can do... whatever the hell you want."
"No." Except, this time, Sey meant it literally, not figuratively.
Her hand lifted between them, palm out, as if the gesture alone could stop him in his tracks. "Take one more step, Apollo, and I swear on your family name it'll die with you." He might've had several inches on her five foot nine frame, especially now that she'd retired her heels, but her knee was still perfectly positioned to deliver a swift and vicious blow to his balls.
She'd do it, too, if it meant earning herself a second to think. She just needed to think.
For a hundred and ninety-nine reasons him being here was a problem. The bigger problem was the fact that Sey had no idea what the fuck to do about it.
She wasn't a born strategist like Daphne, whose brain was basically a mega computer capable of sifting through every possible move and outcome in half a second flat. She wasn't her older brother, who was war incarnate on legs. Hell, she wasn't even him, someone so charming they could convince and entire crowd the sky was red, not blue.
Sey wasn't stupid—far from it—but her only use and skill had been in throwing her body at the obstacles in her path. Understandably, she wasn't about to do that. Not again. Not after the first and only time she'd ever laid herself bare to Apollo Roth outside of a job.
Her eyes slowly roamed up and down the hall with a calculative gleam. By the time they returned to his face, however, that spark had all but fizzled out. "Just—Fuck. Get inside."
They had neighbors. Real neighbors. Neighbors who'd brought over food to welcome them to town, who'd invited them out for coffee or happy hour drinks. Neighbors she'd gotten to know over the last month and genuinely liked. The last thing this new life needed was her old one airing its dirty laundry at their feet.
Sey roughly twisted the knob and flung open her door, yanking Apollo through it first before following behind.
"She's not here." An audible thump, thump filled the gap of silence when her flats, kicked off with force, smacked into the wall. "And no, I'm not telling you where she is instead." Something rattled in her purse when it fell haphazardly to the floor.
On and on she moved deeper into their small apartment, discarding the now unnecessary pieces of her 'girls night out' attempt in favor of settling in for what was likely going to be night from hell instead. Dress whipped off, heedless of his presence—he'd seen it all before, too many times to count—she started to rifle through a basket of fresh laundry Daph left beside the couch.
"Did it ever occur to you that we didn't tell you where we were going because we didn't want you to follow? Or that we don't owe you an explanation why?"
who: Lola & anyone
where: The Sandwich Establishment
"Look what the cat dragged in!" she could hear across the room as Lola's body made its way past the door's threshold. A bright smile warmed her features as she made eye contact with the owner and ahs emade her way to the counter to order. It was decently busy today, though she could see most were coming and going rather than taking a seat and enjoying their food where it was made.
Her long acrylic nails tapped against the glass as she feigned indecisiveness before a low chuckle came from the man behind the glass. "Same as always, Lola B?" she looked up at him and nodded, watching as he assembled what had been her same order for the last two years the place had been in business—a chopped chicken Caesar salad on Italian bread, with extra dressing on the side.
Brown eyes followed him as he went down the line before meeting him at the end to pay, pulling a twenty-dollar bill from her back pocket and handing it over to him. He slid her sandwich to her in a to-go box, knowing she was sitting in like normal, before sliding the change left to her. "Gracias amor," rolled off her tongue as she waved to him and sat down at a nearby table.
Opening her box and getting ready to dig in, she noticed someone else looking around for a place to sit. "You can sit here if you want." she offered the chair in front of her.
Sey knew she looked like a total wreck, even though it was far past morning and well into the afternoon, but that was the beauty of small town living—She genuinely didn't have to give a shit if anyone saw her at less than her best.
Dropping down into the spare seat across from Lola she let her own box haphazardly hit the table, its styrofoam lid springing free from the force. "Remind me to never, and I mean never, volunteer for an open to close shift again."
The money they arrived with was slowly but surely running out which meant, before they knew it, she and her best friend Daphne would be living off honest wages alone. Not once in her thirty-three years of life had Sey genuinely had to work to keep food on the table.
Panic at that unprecedented thought spurred her into picking up extra shifts at the cafe, but she'd underestimated her ability to 'people' for so many hours straight. "I think I might be dead," she moaned as she lifelessly lifted her sandwich. "I don't even know what this is and I'm the one who just ordered it."
location: the apartments above latte love, cardinal hill
status: closed for @apolloledger
Phone, keys, wallet, chapstick, the tiny switchblade she got when she was twelve and never left home without— Sey rooted through her purse to make sure everything was there. She was already running late; the last thing she needed was a trip back home after she'd already made it halfway to The Labyrinth.
Confident she hadn't forgotten anything—probably—she backed out into the hall, ready to lock up and go meet her ride. The key to their small, overpriced apartment was almost to the lock when something made her pause.
No, not something—Someone.
Her entire body, from her blood to her bones, surged and stiffened with the primal awareness that she wasn't alone. All it took was a subtle glance over her shoulder to prove her instincts weren't wrong.
Are. You. Fucking. With. Me?
There stood the bane of her existence and the haunter of her dreams, leaned back against the beige wall like some poster child for narcissism and obnoxiously good genetics.
How they hell did he find them?
That was a rhetorical question from her to her because she knew damn well how. He might not have been his sister, but Apolinar Ledger Roth was a close second when it came to reconnaissance. If he was here, outside their apartment, that mean he already knew where they worked, their chosen aliases, who they'd hooked up with in town, how often, and what they had for breakfast that morning.
Sey kept her stance casual and indifferent to his unwelcome presence outside of her door, but her eyes—Their chocolate depths simmered with frustration and barely concealed rage. "No." Whatever he was doing in Illinois, whatever he wanted from her or Daphne, the answer was no, followed by a swift 'leave'.
"To be fair," Percy said, the quirk of his mouth towards a smile an easily offered thing as he slipped into the seat beside the stranger. "I can't imagine what else you'd have been offering me." That wasn't to say it couldn't have been something else― a drink or a conversation or something wholly removed from the normal things one might expect to be offered at a bar. He hadn't expected to find a seat, really, with so many people filling the space to the point he imagined he might have the patience for a drink before he headed home for the night.
A savior in some small way, then, the woman beside him had become in an instant. He'd never shied away from socializing― craved meeting new people more than he craved most things; even if that was bizarre to admit aloud or to any one person.
"I appreciate it just the same," he added, quietly ordering a drink and directing the bartender to put hers on his tab to boot. It seemed the least he could do. "Rough night?" He asked, glancing towards the woman's phone with a raised eyebrow. Too curious by half, he thought to himself, half expecting a scolding for it even as he asked the question.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sey drawled in response. “My virtue, the entire contents of my wallet, those keys to my car. ” She’d done that once— handed some unsuspecting teenager the keys because where she was going her car of the month couldn’t follow. “You might be surprised what some people will hand over to a perfect stranger.”
She had stories for days on that front but none that could be shared. It was hard to prove a point when the evidence you had meant confessing to your own crimes.
And that’s one thing she wouldn’t be doing— Confessing. Not now. Not when she’d finally broken free of her family and committed to this so-called fresh start. The same fresh start that was the very reason why she so desperately tried to ignore her phone. Especially then, in that very moment, when it began to ring again.
Sey grabbed it from its spot beside her nearly empty glass, punched in the power button to just shut it down, and then shoved it into her clutch. “You ever have to deal with someone who just can’t accept that you decided to leave?” Her head tipped toward the now quiet, hidden device. “It’s been one of those nights. Not sure what to call it, but I guess we could go with rough until I see how the rest shakes out.”
There had been a few bars that Dani had frequented back home - home. she had to stop thinking of this place as something else. she moved back to Blue Harbor, this was home now - and it had become a way to destress after a long week with some rowdy teens. While there weren't as many bars to choose from in Blue Harbor, The Labyrinth had the more relaxed energy Dani was looking for tonight.
Unfortunately for her, it wasn't relaxed. In fact, it was much more crowded then she had anticipated. Looking throughout the bar for a place to sit, she found one open seat next to a woman. Before Dani could ask if the seat was open, the answer was given.
Walking forward and taking a seat, Dani murmured a quick thanks before ordering the first gin cocktail her eyes landed on. "You okay?" Dani didn't want to pry, she kind of hated when people did that to her, but maybe this person wanted to talk. She had been starring at her phone intently enough that she definitely had thoughts brewing. "You don't have to answer but... figured I'd ask. I know sometimes it's nice to just offload to a stranger."
"Hmm?" It took Sey a few seconds longer than it should've to realize why the other woman might've assumed she wasn't. Realization visibly dawned across her face once it hit. "Oh, yeah. Yeah." A new smile, still just as small, twitched upon her lips. "I'm good."
She wasn't, not even close, but she couldn't exactly explain why she was so far from good they might as well be on different maps. Something told her the words 'I'm ignoring my mother's calls because I still haven't told her I'm giving up the life of crime' wouldn't go over so well.
Then again, maybe she'd hear the truth and perceive it as a joke. That happened once, in some city on the eastern coast Sey could no longer recall. She'd point blank told a mark she was there to take his money and the fool laughed.
Bet he wasn't laughing so much when he woke up the next morning to his bank accounts drained. It was almost a shame she hadn't been around to see the look on his face when he realized her 'tease' hadn't been a tease at all.
Sey lingered with that memory for only a moment, then her gaze cut back to the younger woman at her side. "It's just family stuff, you know?" Okay— maybe she did want to talk. "I'd probably end up drinking this place dry if I answered that call. My mom is... a lot."
CLOSED STARTER FOR @maragalvin !!
LOCATION: the apartments above latte love
The hallway above Latte Love was quiet, save for the soft creak of floorboards. Maya stood outside of her apartment door, juggling her keys in one and a brown paper bag with the Latte Love logo in the other, when the sound of movement caught her attention. She looked up to see Mara emerging from the apartment just down the hall. “Mara, hi!” she called out with a bright smile. Mara and her friend were her newest neighbors and she was eager to welcome them since they hadn’t been in Blue Harbor very long. “I’ve got goodies if you’re interested! Fresh pastries!” she said, shaking the bag in the air. The scent of cinnamon and butter was wafting from it and Maya hoped as her neighbor drew closer it would tempt her to chat for a few minutes.
“It’s almost as if you knew I was just on my way out to find a bite to eat.” A wide, cheeky grin broke across Sey’s face while she made it from her end of the hall to Maya's. “For all our thirty odd years, somehow neither one of us learned how to keep the fridge stocked with groceries.”
Mostly because they’d move from one hotel suite to another, enjoying the perks of room service and never having a need to source their own ingredients. Honestly, it was probably a good thing there wasn’t anything on hand because Sey and cooking ended about as the same as a dropped match and gasoline.
Maya had no idea how close she’d come to watching her apartment—and her livelihood— burn to the ground.
“Here, let me take that for you.” Sey relieved her new neighbor of the pastries so she only had to worry about fitting her key into the door. “These smell so delicious it should be a crime” And she’d know all about those, wouldn’t she? The corner of her mouth twitched at the private joke while she tried to peek inside. “What’s in here, anyway?”
It would have been easy for her to comment on the fact that she had just watched them evade contact with someone on the other line — something Spencer may have had some experience with. Her eyes darted around, as she was offered an invitation to the one open seat left in the house. A smile played on her lips, as she looked back at the woman with stunning bright forest hues. Like a puddle, Spencer nearly melted right into herself at the sight of her. "Don't mind if I do," she accepted with a wink in the other's direction.
"Spencer Sutton." Her hand extended out at the brunette, still captivated by that gaze of hers. And because she couldn't quite help herself– "Not taking after-hours calls? I'd hate to be on the other end, pining to hear your voice like that. Thankful I don't have to be, I guess." As she talked, she waved her hand briefly to flag any of the bartenders. "Espresso martini, please," she pled at the bartender, who nodded once in response. She forfeited her piece of plastic currency that she had been pinching between her fingers and quickly added, "and I'll take care of her tab." It hadn't appeared to Spencer that the woman flipped over her phone with much satisfaction — it was the least she could do for having gained a seat next to her.
Eye contact. So many people undervalued the importance of eye contact. Not this woman. No, Spencer Sutton (she mentally tested the name, committing it to memory) didn’t shy away or drop her gaze. She held firm and winked. Winked.
Sey liked her already.
Her own chocolate hues gave a languid head to toe appraisal, unrepentant and unashamed to be witnessed in such a blatant display of appreciation. “Sey Kaçar.” Warm fingers coiled around hers in the handshake. “It’s a pleasure.”
Honestly, she hadn't planned to engage in any conversation—it'd been one of those days that turned into one of those nights—but present company had her reconsidering that decision. Fast.
Sey tipped her head in thanks for the kind gesture regarding her tab, a smirk holstered on her lips and her throat trapping the start of a laugh. "I'm not opposed to after hours activities, no." The stretch between the first blush of sunset and the early morning kiss of sunrise was actually her favorite. "I just know what my time is worth."
In other words, whoever kept calling didn't make the cut. She might've felt bad implying as much about her own mother if her words were the truth, but they weren't so she didn't. The real reason Sey didn't answer is because she knew the second she told Leman she still wasn't on her way to Seattle all hell would break loose.
Rather than linger on that inevitability she scrubbed it from her mind, instead choosing to focus on the ethereal blonde now sat to her right. "Now. You really don't expect me to believe you're here all alone tonight, do you?"
Leaving his manager’s office, CJ thought he was doing a pretty good job of looking miserable, like the verbal lashing he had just received regarding some missing equipment had affected him. Truly, he didn’t get what the big deal was — it was just a few dumbbells, and they looked sick in the little elf hats he made for them, sitting on his and Seb’s fireplace — but if he looked too unbothered, he’d probably get fired. Being on his second strike was bad enough.
Still, he denied, denied, denied having anything to do with the uncounted weights, claiming he saw ‘some dude’ suspiciously hanging around the area a few weeks ago. Technically not a lie, as CJ was some dude, and he caught a glance of himself in the floor length mirrors as he bagged them up. Still, it was his ‘mission’ to catch the culprit, and in an effort to look like he was doing his job, tapped the first person he came across on the gym floor, gesturing to the empty studio room that held classes. "Don't be scared. I just need you to come with me for a minute."
Believe nothing you hear and only half of what you see.
That family mantra of sorts (or maybe it was more of a warning?) perked up its head the second a hand landed on her arm, chased by the words ‘don’t be scared’. Sey wasn’t scared, but she was wary. In her experience acts of reassurance were more often than not lies.
Call her curious, though. He didn’t look threatening—not that the observation meant anything—so she nodded once and followed into the empty studio.
Rather than tensing or bracing for impact she let her limbs go loose and fluid. Ready. For what, she wasn’t sure, and the irony wasn't lost on her that now, hiding out in small town Illinois, she felt more on guard than she ever had within the 'family business'.
One brow lightly arched, head canted to the side, she kept her gaze locked on his face. “Can I help you?”
Sadie wandered down the main street of Blue Harbor, her camera hanging loosely around her neck as she snapped photos of the little things that caught her eye—vibrant flower pots outside the bakery, the way the sunlight hit the water down by the pier, the lazy way a dog napped on the sidewalk in front of the bookstore. She had been in a bit of a creative slump lately, but today felt different. She'd gotten this idea to document the town. A sort of visual love letter to Blue Harbor.
She stopped for a moment, camera raised, and captured someone strolling past. Lowering the camera, Sadie smiled and jogged over. "Hey, sorry to interrupt," she said, her voice warm, "but I just took a photo of you for a project I’m working on. It's a 'day-in-the-life' of the town kinda thing, just capturing random moments. Is it okay if I use the photo?"
Sey's entire body went tense, her feet rooted to the pavement. "A picture? Of me?" She'd been taught many lessons over the course of her life and one of the most important was no photographs— Especially not the kind that might go public.
Neither she nor the others of her generation in the 'family business' were allowed to have personal social media accounts. For the times they attended events with the chance of press they'd been instructed again and again on how to turn cheek or lift a drink at precisely the right moment.
She never considered that here, in Blue Harbor, she'd still have to worry about her face immortalized on film or someone's SD card.
Did it really matter anymore? If she'd left that life behind and buried in the ground, did the old rules still apply? What were the chances anyone who'd once been caught in the web of their family games would even see pictures taken in a place like this?
A hundred thoughts fired off in her brain like a Heckler and Koch MR27, each one hitting their mark within the same few seconds.
"Uh..." Swallowing, Sey allowed a small, seemingly bashful smile to peek across her lips. "I'm not really a fan of having my picture taken, if I'm being honest." Please. She'd never been honest a day in her life.
Still, her fingers tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear before both hands twisted together at the front of her stomach. Shy, anxious, harmless— She slipped into the act without missing a beat; it wasn't the first time she'd had to wear it like a second skin. "How, uhm, how would you use it?"
She’d been practically trained since birth to always be hyper aware of her surroundings so, no, even within the chaos of the bar Mara didn’t need to look to know a new presence stood roughly a foot or so behind her.
“Go ahead. It’s yours for the taking.”
Still, she didn’t look. Her eyes remained locked on the screen of her phone, thumb poised to decline an incoming call. Except she didn’t—Couldn’t. No matter how close she got to pressing that red button she froze before making full contact.
It wasn’t until her voicemail took over that all the tension held in her shoulders bled out like spilled wine.
Sey placed her phone face down—a vain attempt to ignore whatever message was left—and finally tossed a glance backward. “The seat beside me, I mean.” Green eyes cast over the rest of the bar before returning to where they started, this time accompanying the slip of a smile. "It's pretty packed in here tonight, so you might not find another."
