i've been out on that open road. you can be my full time daddy, white and gold. singing blues has been getting old... but you can be my full time baby, hot or cold. don't break me down... i've been traveling too long... i've been trying too hard... with one pretty song: i hear the birds on the summer breeze –– i drive fast –– i am alone at midnight. 'been trying hard not to get into trouble but i – i've got a war in my mind, so, i just ride.
“You don’t?” The other question fell into the background and the result was clear, if Chandler had found anything then he would of been opening every window in that big old house, his cries would of been echoing the hallways, he would of been shouting from the rooftops but the truth was that he was suffocated and almost silenced by the fact that he had found absolutely nothing. He knew absolutely nothing. He was trying his best to come up with theories and solutions to all that had happened but the truth was that he hadn’t got a clue. He was clueless the majority of his life but all of that time, the biggest problem he’d had to deal with was keeping control of himself, there was no darkness, no mysteries, NO murder.
He walked closer to his sister, for a second there was no squabbling, no exasperation. He stood there and he looked at her with the same boyish green eyes, the curls atop his head going astray, his lips turned downwards into the shadow of a frown that hadn’t quite arrived. “Do you think he’ll come back?” He asked, but there was an unspoken plea in that voice of his, asking for reassurance, even if it was a LIE.
did she ? there had been so much murder, his reinforced question really had to force her to reassess her initial thought. no other athanas had died yet. as far as she knew, no one in the house actually despised december enough to kill him. but who was to say the killer was the same person who’d killed vidal ? or anyone else, for that matter ? in other words, who was to say the killer would actually be in the house ? god, if she had a nickel for every time she mentally heard the word ‘killer’ or ‘murderer,’ she would be far richer than vidal had been.
she could be honest and say that, upon further and brief reflection, she didn’t know, but chandler was clearly desperate. she left a beat of silence instead, kept it up until he asked his next question. that one was one she could answer with unabashed honesty. “ i don’t know –– i mean, i didn’t really know him personally. i don’t know if he’s the disappearing type. ” having been somewhat of a houdini herself, apparently disappearing still couldn’t recognize disappearing. “ is he ? ”
he felt as though he had lost his sense of direction recently. the house getting inside his head, he presumed. he was growing tired— bored. today, he’d woken up from yet another sleepless night, but this time with a smile on his lips. if you want change, make it happen. he absolutely wanted change, he wanted control again, he wanted to cause chaos and walk through it unscathed. but of course, for the right price, he’d keep chaos under wraps. with his signature grin just begging to pull across his lips, he made his way through the athanas house, looking for his target. her distinct long, blonde hair was hard to miss and he strolled over to her, his grin breaking out over his lips. ❝harley,❞ he greets her, his voice warm, speaking as if there is even a shred of friendship between them. ❝you have a minute for me, don’t you?❞
harley’s previous list of concerns: the affair ; harley’s new list of concerns: the affair, december, finding the murder weapon, the murder weapon’s connection to emilio, emilio –– how the list had grown so substantially in so few days ! it was incredible that she had almost forgotten about angel entirely, consumed with chandler instead... plus the murder weapon, you know ? but god forbid she forget how much of a threat he was the second she heard his voice, greeting her like a friend when they both knew there was absolutely no air of friendship. shutting her eyes and letting out a rather long sigh before turning to face him, she replied, “ do i have a choice ? ” how rhetorical ! the quicker she could give him whatever it was that he wanted, the better.
on the surface level, there was ‘will i be murdered?’ ; on a deeper level, there was ‘if december did die, will chandler and belva be okay?’ ‘what will happen if the affair gets out?’ ‘how do i keep up this ruse of being here for my friend?’ ; on the level that really should’ve mattered, there was ‘i found the murder weapon, what the fuck, oh my god.’ and while all of those were most certainly worries of her, and for all of the other worries she was carrying somewhere else... she was selfish. there were two that were tied for her ‘biggest’ –– one that had been there ever since she’d begun her tryst with vidal, and one that had begun after he’d been pronounced dead. “ did vidal ever truly love me ? and, either way, am i allowed to grieve ? ”
alright! my activity was totally hindered by the visit as! is! obvious! but i’m going home tomorrow and i’ll get to everything tomorrow night!! just wanted to make it known..... that i still love this rp..... i j got to visit my sister for the first time in like a year SO WE WERE HANGING.
hello hello! i know i said i was gonna do replies with Substance™ tonight but. i have. been packing and im abt to die so HOPEFULLY THOSE WILL COME TOMORROW BUT THAT’S WHAT IM ABT 2 TALK ABT
i j wanted 2 let everyone kno i’ll be gone from tomorrow until the 8th to visit my sister in LA. i,, have no clue what the arrangement will be like so idk if my activity will be the same (aka, the same it usually is these past few days have j been Strange™), worse, or somehow better? but jic it’s worse i wanted to post this so it is known that i have no intention of Ditching™ i j,, literally have no clue what the setup will be like.
and my life is obviously the most important thing in everyone else’s so??????????????????????????????
what the water gave me ( unplugged ) –– florence + the machine
the hero’s return –– pink floyd
everything to feel something –– lily allen
alone / with you –– daughter
leave the city –– twenty one pilots
fever dream –– iron & wine
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ride
“ i’m tired of feeling like i’m fucking crazy. i’m tired of driving ‘til i see stars in my eyes. it’s all i’ve got to keep myself sane, baby, so i just ride –– i just ride. ”
black cat
“ black cat, nine lives, short days, long nights –– living on the edge, not afraid to die. heart beat’s real strong, but not for long. better watch your step or you’re gonna die. you’re so together, but just at a glance, you’ll do anything if given the chance. ”
fallen sun
“ and he said ‘honey i’m not coming home for you. i found myself here by the water and i’ve got no time for you.’ “
no rest for the wicked
“ there’ll be no rest for the wicked. there’s no song for the choir. there’s no hope for the weary –– you let them win without a fight. ”
buy the stars
“ you’re buying stars to shut out the light. we come alone, and alone we die. no matter how hard you try, i’ll always belong in the sky. ”
the other woman
“ the other woman has time to manicure her nails. the other woman is perfect where her rival fails. and she’s never seen with pinned curls in her hair. the other woman enchants her clothes in french perfume. the other woman keeps fresh cut flowers in each room. there’s never toys that scatter everywhere. and when her man comes to call, he’ll find her waiting like some ancient queen, ‘cause when she’s by his side –– it’s such a change from old routine. the other woman will always cry herself to sleep. the other woman will never have his love to keep. as the years go by, the other woman will spend her life alone. ”
what the water gave me
“ oh, poor atlas, the world’s a beat of a burden –– you’ve been holding on for long now. and all this longing and the ships are left to rust –– that’s what the water gave us. lay me down, let the only sound be the overflow, pockets full of stones. lay me down, let the only sound, be the overflow. they took your loved ones and returned them in exchange for you, but would you have it any other way ? would you have it any other way ? you couldn’t have it any other way. ”
the hero’s return
“ sweetheart, sweetheart, are you fast asleep ? good –– ‘cause that’s the only time i can really speak to you. and there is something that i’ve locked away –– a memory that is too painful to withstand the light of day. ”
everything to feel something
“ i’m at my worst when i’m alone. can’t take the peace, so my glass is always half empty –– someone fill it up for me, set me free. i don’t want to fall in love. all i want is for someone to walk all over me ( close the door behind you, please ). ”
alone / with you
“ i hate sleeping alone, terrified with the lights out. i hate living alone, talking to myself is boring conversation. me and i are not friends, she is only an acquaintance [...] i should get a dog or something. ”
leave the city
“ the burning is so low, it’s concerning, ‘cause they know that when it goes out, it’s a glorious gone. it’s only time before they show me why no one ever comes back with details from beyond. they know that it’s almost – they know that it’s almost over. in time, i will leave the city. ”
fever dream
“ i want your flowers like babies want god’s love or maybe as sure as tomorrow will come. some days, like rain on the door step, she’ll cover me with grace in all she offers. sometimes, i like just to ask her what honest words she can’t afford to say. ”
He’s never been in December’s room. He wouldn’t know the way, but he knows it when he walks in. He notices straight away that there’s a stash of empty bottles in the corner and a suitcase that’s still messily open. As if he never left.
He looks around, pulling out draws. He is looking for clues as to the whereabouts of the other, trying to figure out where he has really gone. The thought of him being dead is too much for him to process, never mind bare. There was NO BODY. That means he’s alive, right? It has to. He glances around the room, door open, wardrobe open, suitcase items disregarded on the floor. It’s nothing the police wouldn’t of already done. Sitting down on the bed, he looks at the mess he has created, his hands running through his own curly hair, “Come on, mate, you can’t be dead. You have to be alive. Give me a clue.”
harley hadn’t known december very well –– not much past ‘acquaintance.’ harley also hadn’t known emilio very well –– again, not much past ‘acquaintance.’ from others, she knew of their respective reputations, but she didn’t really know them... still, something about the arrest and ‘death’ didn’t feel right. so much death was already plaguing the house, who would decide to contribute more ? then again, what better time to commit murder than when other investigations are going on in the same crowd ? the likelihood is that they would all be lumped together. the person who killed vidal is the same person who killed graciela’s father, apparently december, and tried to kill virginia –– that would be the common logic. same place. same time. same people... and yet they all felt different.
now, there were a slew of things harley was hoping to forget ( and she hadn’t even found the trophy yet ), but one of those things –– one of those people, rather –– was growing more and more difficult, especially in the wake of december’s ‘death.’ from what she understood, december and chandler had had a sort of kinship –– was it much of a surprise that chandler was looting around the former’s room ? “ have you found anything ? ” she asked, leaning in the doorway. “ if it helps at all, i don’t really think he’s dead, either. ” then again, she’d formed a conspiracy that vidal was somehow still alive for a week after his death –– one that literally had a body. was she much of a reliable source ?
I guess I was stepping into the elevator when the shooting happened? I was in the elevator when the blackout occurred, and that happened, like, right after, yeah?
Harley’s (who got stuck in an elevator for roughly an hour and a half) Alibi
Harley opens a cupboard in the kitchen in a search for something, she pulls out one pot and then another and reaches to the back. Her fingers brush against something hard and and lumpy and she pulls it out to look at it. In her hands she finds a beautiful golden trophy, "AWARD FOR BEST MOST MOVING PERFORMANCE; EMILIO ATHANAS," but the bottom is covered in what seems to be... dry blood.
there had been so much to think of lately –– vidal’s death, the dolls, the text from angel, chandler’s presence …( also one of vidal’s associates being shot, december going missing, and emilio being arrested ) –– so she had chosen not to think. in any other case, she would’ve left by now, but the house just seemed to swallow a person whole… so, instead, she found herself looking for a pan to scramble an egg. boring, but she’d never been much of a cook, what to the point that she found herself searching for pans amongst a cupboard of pots.
moving them around, what she felt when she got to the back of the cupboard was, unfortunately, not a pan. now, it wasn’t a pot either. she may not have been a genius with kitchen utensils, but it didn’t feel like anything she’d ever set her hands on. dragging it out from the bag, it glinted as it began reaching the light –– it was gold, it was hard, it was in some odd shape…
it was a trophy –– some parody oscar, perhaps ? ‘most moving performance: emilio athanas’ … she knew someone was obsessed and bored enough to take the time out of their day to have a doll fashioned after her made, and now a trophy dedicated to a ‘moving performance’ by emilio… who’d just gotten arrested… dots began to connect.
it really hit when she turned it over in hopes of finding something else, even the slightest hint, and found, instead, dried blood. she had always assumed her reaction in situations like these would be to take it somewhere and hide it, share it with someone who would know what to do ( she didn’t quite trust the police ) ( also, had she really imagined herself in situations like these ? )
instead, she dropped it –– was this what took the life of the man she so believed she loved ? –– was this what killed vidal ?
hello hello! i will be on later tonight and try to catch up on everything from the event oh my god but i know my math career has been of utmost importance to y’all bc,,, i mean :/ how cld it now be? :/ n e way!! p sure i failed!! stan list!! will be on later to hit up starters and edit this bc everyone deserves to kno bc again. utmost importance.
“ not in the slightest, but if i act affected... ” to an outsider –– to any outsider –– why would she be affected ? because her friend’s father died ? horrid, yes, but ‘she didn’t know him well,’ so why would she be very fazed ? “ i want to mourn, but i’m not sure if it’s my right. ” she certainly couldn’t do so publicly.
How do you know you were the only one sleeping with him?
she had a simple, somber answer: “ i don’t. ” she had thought about it more than once, the possibility that he was not only unfaithful to his wife, but also to her ( then, could he be unfaithful to her –– to harley ? was that possible ? that was another question she had ). there was evidence working against the theory that he was seeing a third party –– she was there more nights than not –– it seemed it would be hard to fit another person into vidal’s busy schedule. but there was always that lingering possibility... everything with vidal was a lingering possibility, wasn’t it ?
germansingergirl
kianamaiart
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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