[swanslament]

✱     𝚂𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚂𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃     :    an  examination  of  what  it  means  to  let  the  present  unfold  gently  in  your  palm,  to  grieve  a  future  for  a  self  you  can  no  longer  return  to,  &  to  unlearn  the  instinct  to  flinch  from  mundanity.  told  through  the  lens  of  isadora  ryu ,  aka  the scholar of  @colossalhq   ⸻  as  scripted by hyun  ( she/her  )  .

                                 intro.    dossier.    pinterest.    threads.

[hayesonthecourt]

With noon fast approaching and 'the troops' fed with Easy's banana pancake supply, Devon has been lurking around and nursing a bottle of water with a feeling of antsy-ness creeping in her bones.

If not for the excuse of a hangover holding onto her too tight, unrelentless in the way it pounds in her skull behind her eyes and makes her stomach feel too sick for her to even eat half of a pancake, the snow trapping them outside is enough of an excuse for Dev to write off a five mile run that day.

And her suicide sprints, and push ups, and so on and so forth.

She opens her eyes from where she is sitting, humming in acknowledgment to the voice, though the request is slow to register. "Keys?" Her fingers lightly squeeze the water bottle that crinkles under her grip. "That's a Milo question." He is the stand in manager for the time being.

"The snow might be soft, but you're going to have to dig yourself out before you can drive anywhere. Or hike through it." She sniffs and pushes herself to her feet with a soft groan of protest, her mind betraying her body. "Unless you've heard anything about plows coming through?"

[swanslament]

“ah.”  the response slips out before she can tame it, the corner of her lips turning down incrementally, disappointed that devon doesn’t have the keys. nothing against milo, but their lack of a solid friendship struck it odd for her to actually ask him about it, and have to explain why she wanted them. she considers devon’s response, head tilting. it’s true – there is definitely way too much snow to go home right now, and the plows… she shakes her head. “no, i haven’t heard anything about the plows unfortunately. they probably won’t come until late afternoon… hopefully.” a mere educated guess. “honestly? i just really want fresh air,” she confesses, exasperation from cabin fever, “and personally, i like the snow. just to lay down in it or make a snowman for like ten minutes would do wonders. don’t you think?” 

[grantwishs]

isa is right, there’s nothing the two of them couldn’t talk themselves out of. pretty privilege is nice, but having the brains to go with it makes them practically unstoppable. tricky won’t stand a chance. besides, with a night as eventful as this one, he’ll be the least of their worries. for now, ana is able to push them all aside thanks to isa’s company. and a couple more shots. she feels lucky to be here with her, surprisingly there’s nowhere else she’d rather be. and it’s hard to not spill all the secrets she’s holding back when isa presses on for further information. ana bites down on her bottom lip, deliberately buying time to find the right words. “what hasn’t happened…” she sighs, dramatically, “mila and milo swear their divorce is amicable, i don’t believe them. plus, i’ve managed to have an argument with both easy and fallon. i’ll never understand those two, or you for getting along with them.” however, there's a perfect explanation: isa is much nicer of a person than ana. if she's lucky, some of it will rub off on her. “please, tell me the party has treated you well.”

[swanslament]

isa nods solemnly as she listens to ana’s account of the night. what went on between mila and milo was beyond isa. the picture-perfect couple on paper. her eyebrows raise at the mention of arguing. “easy and fallon? how’d that happen?” isa frowns. she tried to think about what ana could have done to piss either of them off, but comes up short. she tries to sense if there’s something more to her friend’s words, but isa doesn’t have the capacity to think too hard about it, a mixture of inebriation and fatigue. when the question turned to her, she sighs a little. “i don’t know about well...” isa trails off as she thinks about the conversations that had occurred over the night, the lack of comfort that always came with the sharp awareness of being in colossal, a rhythm she was still trying to find. “but surprisingly, i did survive the night with little incident. i think the worst thing was getting a little too drunk, like a couple hours ago,” she said with a handwave and a laugh. “i guess i’m always just wondering if i’m doing the right thing, you know?” 

[sentimntls]

the second ana mentions being hungry, hungrier than the bowl of pretzels can satisfy, mila sets her sights on taking care of that. her first stop is limericks’s kitchen; she’s eaten through enough of the menu over the years to be pretty confident there’s something in the fridge she can bring ana. though, she’s less confident that she’s sober enough to make it edible. if nothing else, there has to be bread and cheese back there, and that’s basically impossible to fuck up. apparently mila isn’t the only one with the idea. for a moment, it feels good to have the same idea as the future lawyer, but it’s quickly replaced by annoyance that isadora thought of it first. not that mila lets it show, mirroring the smile on isa’s face. “hi.” she echoes. “uh, maybe?” taking a few more steps into the kitchen, mila rests her arms on the counter, her head tilting as she watches isa. “i don’t think the party snacks are really cutting it anymore. i just wanted to see if there’s anything in here that we could make that could count as like, an actual meal.” she points to the package on the counter next to where isa is standing. “is there any more ramen?”

[swanslament]

“unfortunately this is the only pack i have…” she’s tempted to leave it just at that, but her manners get the better of her. her father would not appreciate her being unkind to someone who really, had done nothing wrong. funnily enough, mila and isa had plenty of  friends in common — primarily being frankie and ana. nevermind the fact that she also spent a considerable amount of time at the alcantaras’ while she was dating noah. their circles intersected so often... and still, despite it all, isa was always left with something bitter in the back of her throat. jealousy always seemed to bear a watchful gaze she could never quite shake.  before she forgets herself, she continues. “but there’s plenty. feel free to take some if you want.” she eyes the fridge nearby, gestures to it. “or you can take whatever’s in the fridge and beg tricky for forgiveness later,” she offers as an alternative. eyes wandering back to mila, shrugs her shoulders, raises her eyebrows — as if to say, whichever way, be my guest.

[sullngirl]

a glance at her watch tells fallon that she’s officially thirty minutes past her self-imposed curfew, and she knows the minutes will only continue to crawl by until jamir’s ready to go home. for now, she’s waiting it out at limericks where she knows she isn’t allowed but can’t bring herself to care. it’s not as if she’s raiding the alcohol stock; she just wants to sit and not have to talk to anyone. beyond a few shared classes in high school, she and isadora never interacted much but fallon remembers her valedictorian speech, the proud look on her face that day, her whole life laid out ahead of her. running back to colossal is a move that fallon knows well but she has an inkling that isa’s less than relieved about it. when isa greets her, she looks up, surprised. “hi.” for a moment, she thought the other might have ignored her under the guise of being a busy bartender. “as long as the party stays in the basement, the party’s going fine for me.” she watches for a moment as isa sorts through the supplies. “how’s bartending? i hope you’re at least getting tipped.”

[swanslament]

isa actually wasn’t sure if the greeting was going to be returned, so it almost catches her by surprise that she didn’t open the conversation for nothing. she wouldn’t have taken any offense if fallon had chosen to ignore her, but she's glad to make the small talk.  she nods once at her statement. “yeah, i get that.” she means it, too. the creeping sense of guilt that crawled with every minute, for the fact that her brain would needle her with shouldn’t you be somewhere else? “i mean, bartending is fine,” she says with a shrug as she scans the shelves, “getting used to it, weirdly.” she fails to elaborate further. frowns. “and now that you mention it, maybe i should have brought a tip jar along.”  she grabs a bottle of simple syrup, before looking back to fallon. “how’d you get roped into this?” she asks, a quirk of her brow. “if you’re, you know... just hanging up here.”

[trnsience]

setting : fast breaks, 4:20pm status : closed for isa ( @swanslament )

❝ one hot caramel macchiato. ❞

the drink shane sets in front of isa, though serviceable for a caffeine boost and a warm pick-me-up, has a little too much caramel drizzle on top. this is mostly an accident. between wanting to get a head start on closing and trying to figure out from looks alone what had isa coming in for an espresso shot on her day off, his mind was too far off on other things to pay attention to how long he’d been shaking the bottle of caramel for. when he did realize, he shrugged it off. figured maybe she needed a sweet treat too.

back in the present, shane leans down to rest his arms against the pickup counter, props his head up with a hand. ❝ now, you wanna tell me why i had to turn the coffee machine back on right before closing on a monday, or … ? ❞ he trails off, brow raised and only the slightest bit actually annoyed. sure, fast breaks was technically still open for another ten minutes, but his manager wasn’t here. had isa been anyone else, he might not have done it.

[swanslament]

isa’s face lights up as the coffee alights in front of her (she’s not one to complain about extra caramel). she takes it into her hands and lets the warmth spread to her palms. she hums happily as she takes a sip of the foam, licks her lips to taste the caramel. “thanks, again, for handling a last minute order.” she felt a bit bad for running to fast breaks right before closing, but it was a much-needed order. even though she didn’t particularly wake up early or anything, but she could feel her body already anticipating the night ahead. “mm. it’s for a great cause, actually,” she says dramatically. “did you hear about the basement party?” she asks with a quirk of her brow. “they wanted me to bartend a little for it. make custom drinks and what not.” she waves her hand as if it could signify the text message she got asking for her to join in. “i don’t mind,” she says, and she means it. she had come around to appreciate the artistry of cocktails, even if the setting itself was not quite so fancy. “but i think i’ll need the extra energy for tonight,” she says with a laugh. it was funny that the newest face in town was becoming a person she could easily talk to. something about the weight of the past bearing lighter on her shoulders whenever they met. “are you gonna be there too?” 

[easyryder]

Isa being prepared - surprise, surprise. Back when Easy would show up to their tutoring sessions with nothing but a smile, she always had spare pencils and flash sheets to spare.

"Smart move. Last time I pissed him off he set the thermometer eight degrees lower than normal for a week." A mild punishment - Easy could handle a little evening chill with a couple extra blankets - but Victor was but a mere innocent bystander and he'd rather not take the punishment for an entire staff's worth of partying.

"Like that guy from Lord of the Rings?" Not quite. Gimlet doesn't ring any bells in his head but it sounds cool anyway, and he trusts Isa's memory more than his own. It's simple enough to follow directions ( Easy's a rule follower more often than not, contrary to what the everything about him might imply ) so he jumps into slicing and juicing limes like a well-trained puppy.

"Nah. To be honest, I miss him already. I might be the only one saying that, but." Easy shrugs, ignoring the splatters of lime juice that surround his work station after only one fruit. "It's cool to feel, like, a little more in charge, I guess, but without them around all my projects kind of stop. Like, we were working on his next music video, right? Had to drop everything in the planning stage."

Of all the Strip managers, Julien is Easy's favorite. Long time neighbors, long time friends, it's difficult to separate his love of the guy even if he bosses Easy around all week. He lifts his head after making a chop and volleys back the question. "How about you? Feeling free?"

[swanslament]

“you mean gimli?” she asks with a tilt of her head, amused. she can’t help but correct him, although she tries to soften it. “gimli, gimlet… i mean, yeah,” she remarks with a laugh and a nod, “close enough.” although she hoped that he wouldn’t go to any other bartender and accidentally ask for a fictional dwarven man instead of a cocktail, there were truly worse mistakes one could make.  she opens a shaker, softly shoveling in ice as he speaks. a smile tugs at the corner of her lips when he speaks about his projects. the light in his eyes every time easy spoke about film, a light much more apparent compared to the old days of when she had to drag him through the trenches that was math. such simpler times, really. it was funny, to suddenly feel on the other side of everything. not just to be vividly aware of how old the memories were, but to feel like such a different person now compared to back then.  she takes a towel and gently wipes at the spots of juice he’s leaving behind. “have you ever thought about starting your own project?” isa asks, meeting his eyes with a sincere curiosity, tinged with the thought that somehow it would give her an answer of where to find such a passion. “you know, like... something for you rather than for 2nd heaven.”

muscle memory takes over as she pulls out a bottle of gin and some simple syrup, carefully measuring to go lighter on the gin as she mulls over his question. sometimes colossal felt like moving through quicksand. sometimes she felt that she had everywhere to go and yet nowhere to be. “maybe too free,” she decides to say, but she colors it lightly with a laugh. “i mean, it’s nice to have this little party.” awkward would be more accurate, but friendly faces like easy’s made the whole situation much more bearable. “but, i think sometimes it still feels weird that this” – she gestures vaguely to their surroundings – “is my normal now. does that make sense? i don’t know.”

[siixfeetunder]

parker isn't a quiet person, not by any means. she had fully intended on announcing herself when she saw isa across the way, but something stopped her. maybe it was the nostalgia apparent on the other girl's face, maybe it was the reverent way she held up her camera. maybe it was the weight of the moment, of seeing isa like this.

to witness someone losing themselves in their art is no small thing, parker knows. it's rare that she, herself, lets someone in on any of her more intense creative processes. she tries to step softly, but she can't help wanting to be closer, to see what isa sees. as the camera clicks, she steps forward again, now just a foot or two away, but this time, isa spins around.

"sorry," parker starts, "i hope i didn't spook you." she eyes the camera as it's slipped into isa's pocket, making a mental note to ask about it later. "afternoon? oh- yeah, it's later in the day than i thought, isn't it?" as a smile is tugged across her lips at the absurdity of their situation, parker shakes her head. "it does sort of feel like time isn't passing here. or, maybe it is passing, but it's passing so slowly that it may as well not be passing at all."

after a moment, parker tilts her head, nose scrunching. "did that even make sense? it made sense in my head, but less so coming out of my mouth. i think i need an espresso shot, immediately." muscle memory takes over, and in an instant she's swept behind the counter. "want anything? it's on the house."

[swanslament]

“you didn’t spook me, don’t worry,” isa assures her, hand subconsciously tapping the camera in her jacket pocket once more before. her small hobby suddenly feeling like a glass ball, like if she shared it that it would somehow slip through her fingers and shatter. sharing her future plans used to excite her, but now it only daunted her.  isa smiles. “it really feels like limbo, right? something about waking up in the basement of the strip can really disorient you,” she agrees with a laugh. and truly, even before the snow, colossal seemed to move at its own pace, like it had its own buffer to the incessant need to move that seeped through city streets.

her eyes light up at the suggestion of coffee, shoulders relaxing, relieved to hear parker say it first instead of isa having to guiltily ask her while she’s off the clock. “you read my mind. i was just thinking of asking you or shane for a coffee, actually.” it almost felt like this was any other day: isa stopped by fast breaks every day, and she always ended up catching either parker or shane’s shifts. the familiarity surprises her. when had this become her normal? “is a macchiato too much of an ask? i’ll owe you a drink at limericks.”

[scrtissues]

whether they were snowed in or not was irrelevant to victor. retreating from the basement activities was his only plan of the evening, and he’d been so close to shelter until ana found him and easy. refusing to let his mind wander to the conversation taking place between the other two, victor busies himself with simple clean up. he moves robotically—wiping the splashes of water on the kitchen floor, washing the water glasses, and drying them off with a towel before placing them back in the cabinets.  the knock causes his shoulders to stiffen until he registers it’s isa. “no one’s home,” he mumbles, barely above a whisper and half to himself. he turns anyway, each step to the front door deliberate, as if he might change his mind halfway there. by the time he reaches the door, he decides isa on the other side isn’t the catastrophe he envisions it to be. once he reaches the door, he pulls it open before he can talk himself out of it. he nods once in her direction. “you need something?”

[swanslament]

when he opens the door, she has to straighten from her position of trying to listen in, which the most she could hear was some muffled grumbling and shuffling. isa gives him a polite, almost sheepish smile, as if to say sorry for intruding. the curtness with which he speaks, coming from anyone else, might bother her, but by now she'd like to think she's grown accustomed to it. “oh, hey, yeah. um. i was looking to see if you guys had any more blankets to spare. it’s getting colder…” she makes a face — she’s never been one who could deal well with the cold. judging from the shuffling, she makes a conjecture that easy probably isn’t up here either. “is it just you up here?” she asks, curiously, with a quirk of her brow. everyone had scattered a bit by the time they realized that their fates were quite sealed for the next twelve hours, minimum, so it was hard to judge where everyone was now. “hiding out from the party?”

[mil0slemonade]

Milo hadn't meant to intentionally hover. That's what he was telling himself; that he was just doing a round, checking on things, making sure nobody had already managed to break anything of value. Still, he lingered a little too long at the makeshift bar. Just always checking.

"Figured if the managers were gone, we might as well have a little fun with it," he said, a brief pause in his words before following up with, "Thanks for helping out. Seriously. You oughta like, have someone else tap in so you can enjoy the..." he trailed off as he opened his arms, gesturing vaguely to the party around them. "...Festivities."

He glanced down at the bottles, considering them. "Liquor before beer, never sicker. Beer before liquor, you're in the clear, right?" The age-old adage sat on the tip of his tongue like he was Confucius, until he finally decided, "Dealer's choice, I reckon. Just nothing that'll have me crying on the stairs by nine."

[swanslament]

“um, yeah, it’s no problem.” to be fair, she wasn’t really doing it for him. it was more like she was doing it as a nice gesture for the rest of her friends who were here. without the bartending to occupy her, she was pretty sure she would be out the door much faster, or maybe glued to cj’s or ana’s side all night.  “i don’t think anyone else here actually knows how to bartend though…” she looks around briefly with a snort to herself. she happened to be the only limericks worker in attendance. “although i suppose anyone is welcome to try anyways.” a raise of her eyebrows, as if to challenge him to make his own later. isa fails to suppress a laugh at his recitation. “i think it’s the other way around. ‘beer before liquor, never sicker. liquor before beer, you’re in the clear,’” she corrects him, schooling her face. “but uh, whatever has been working for you, i guess.” she looks around at the small collection available. “okay… are sweet cocktails your thing? or more sour?”

[laughtrackfm]

Dario was a couple of shots and drinks in by this point. He wasn’t sloshed, but he also wasn’t sober. The idea to break into Paperweight to search for something to help out his friends seemed brilliant to him, even better that he was able to convince Isa to come along with him. Because if you left it up to Dario alone then he’d be picking the lock until they were no longer snowed in. He slows when she does, meeting her gaze with his own, reassuring smile even as he reaches out to steady her by the elbow, like it’s second nature. “Hey, hey—look at me,” he says softly, keeping his voice light but grounding. “It’s a great idea. Or—okay—maybe not great, but definitely fine. Like…morally fine.”

He glances at the keys in her hand, then back at her, brows lifting. “We’re not breaking in, we’re…sourcing. For the people. Very noble. Quinn and Rowan would totally respect that. Probably. Eventually.” He gives her elbow a gentle squeeze, grin tipping a little more playful. “Worst case? We grab snacks, we’re heroes. Best case? Same outcome. And if anyone asks, this was absolutely my idea. You won’t get in trouble.”

A beat, then softer, sincere. “C’mon. We’ll be quick. In and out. I’ve got you. You know that by now, right?”

[swanslament]

morally fine. the phrase bounces in her head a couple of times, until it nestles itself squarely in the back of her brain, where she can justify this too. what’s the worst thing that would happen anyways? a question she’s been trying to ask herself lately before she scares herself out of something. and it’s like dario already knew this was bouncing in her head, because his answer sounds pretty sound. “right, yeah. sourcing. being heroes,” she repeats, as if hyping herself up with his words. “don’t worry, though. i wouldn’t leave you hanging anyways.” she gives him a small smile. she means it — as much as she might not want to be in trouble, she would never actually ditch him just to save her own skin. 

his sincerity makes her heart swell, and she hopes a wider smile conveys her gratitude. was she really sure of it before? in any case, she nods, with equal sincerity. “and i’ve got you.”  she pats his shoulder as confirmation and turns up towards the staircase, taking the last few steps up to the door, clasping the cold metal of the keys into her hand and making for the lock. she fumbles to find the right one and fit it properly into the keyhole, but soon one finds purchase and turns smoothly aside.  she pushes the door open and into the quiet of paperweight, dimly lit by the moon and streetlights outside. “okay, partner,” she says dramatically, turning back to him again. “where should we start?”

[grantwishs]

it is ridiculously late for ana, who swears by eight hours of beauty sleep. she should’ve found some quiet nook to crawl into already. however, the adrenaline racing through her system is telling her otherwise— it’s directing her to follow isa’s lead and pour another shot. and that’s exactly what she does. but just as isa mentions tricky, ana nearly misses the landing when turning the bottle right side up again and spills a good portion of vodka over the make-shift bar. oh no, how did she forget about tricky? the employees were going to be in so much trouble. hopefully she doesn’t look too disheveled by the time he comes to save them, or else he’ll never fall for the insane amount of pretty girl privilege she’ll be using to get out of this one. to survival, she repeats with a tap to isa’s glass.  ana tilts her head back and takes the hit of alcohol like a champ, no chaser needed. it’s been a miserable night, she's surprised to not be hanging over a toilet seat by this point. yet, in the presence of isa, she’s full of giggles and maybe the most relaxed she’s been since 9pm. “isa, if you weren’t here i’d be in a corner crying,” if they stay locked in this place much longer, that may be ana’s next order of business. “thank you for moving home and being my escape from all this drama.”

[swanslament]

isa giggles as her friend spills some of the alcohol across the surface before them, lightly grazes her thumb over the light furrow between ana’s brows, as if to wipe the worry that flickered across her face. “don’t worry, i think with the two of us, we can convince him if he thinks otherwise. all my years doing debate have to amount to something, right?” she says with a smile. it often feels like with ana by her side, the world was splayed open in their palms. especially with the alcohol to numb her recently surmounting worries. she grins at ana. “thank you for being here to make home worth coming back to.” like finding a path through the woods that led home, ana’s presence in colossal comforted isa more than she could express in words. but isa doesn’t miss the second half of the sentence, which makes her eyebrows raise. she sways as she sets her cup down and tilts closer to ana, lips pursing slightly. “drama? why, did anything happen tonight?”

[easyryder]

"Yeah, lucky, until Fallon or Dario start begging to come up on their lunch breaks. A blessing and a curse."

Mostly a blessing. Easy could roll out of bed ten minutes before his shift, hair sticking up in the back and clean t-shirt tugged on recklessly ( straight from the basket where his clothes stay for 3-4 days after the trip to Soaperstars ) and still have time for a toast before clocking in on time.

( Is he still late sometimes? Yes. )

Easy grabs the door for her and ushers her inside; with a sneaky maneuver, he manages to swipe the tote bag from her shoulder, too.

"Jesus, Isa, are you moving in, or did you shove textbooks in here?" It isn't that heavy, but she looked about ready to fall over carrying it. Easy rounds the bar and sets the bag down with a thump. With the bar so empty, his thoughtful hum feels too loud.

"Remember that thing you made me last weekend? Something tangy... I think it had gin. Whatever that was, but pour light. I'm marathoning tonight."

They're not really supposed to be up in the bar. Even Easy and Victor aren't supposed to use the indoor entrance to their apartment - it has a whole separate lock. Tricky's cool though, usually, and Easy figures that as long as they don't swipe a noticeable amount of bar alcohol and they clean up after themselves, it should be cucumber cool. Hopefully. "Okay, boss, where should I start?"

[swanslament]

“hey–” isa doesn’t have much time to react when he slides the tote bag from her shoulder, instead giving him a knowing look. you didn’t have to, but thanks. she rolls her eyes at his teasing, although a smile plays on her lips. “i like to be prepared,” she offers matter-of-factly. “prepared being... extra supplies, because god knows how much we’re going to be drinking. and i’m trying not to use too much from limericks. i don’t want tricky on my ass.”

she walks behind the bar, tying her hair up with the scrunchie on her wrist. she cards through the drinks she’s made before for him — she was finding it fun to memorize her friends’ orders, their preferences for cocktails and whether they preferred decadent or refreshing, sour or sweet. she thinks back to the one that had made his eyes light up at the taste. “oh!” she exclaims as she recalls the drink. “a gimlet? alright then, first things first…” she reaches inside her tote and tosses a lime his way. “you want to juice some limes for me? then you can start on cutting the lemons for everyone else.” she lays out a small cup and a fruit juicer for him. “are you happy that julien’s out of town?” she asks as she fetches the other tools from behind the bar. “i feel like everyone’s glad to have the strip to themselves for a bit.”

[swanslament]

✱   TIME.   〳 january 27th, 1:00pm. ✱   PLACE.   〳 paperweight ✱   FOR.   〳 @inkmcrked

isa arrives back at the first floor of paperweight, shelves warmed by the sunlight sliding through the windows, reflected off the snow outside piled high all across the ground. the door had still been open from when she’d snuck into last night with dario, isa having forgotten to lock the door back up in her drunkenness. now, cheeks still rosy from the brief time she spent outside, she eyes the idle espresso machines of fast breaks, imagining a warm cup of coffee would do her well. as she debates on going down to the basement to find shane or parker and politely beg them to scratch her caffeine itch, her eyes shift to the scene outside. she wanders closer to the glass to find that someone had left snow angels beneath the tree outside, branches heavy with frost. something about the scene reminds her of her childhood, winters of making snowmen with her brother, of starting snowball fights with bri, of sledding with cj. the memories are evocative enough for her to slip the camera out from her pocket and capture the landscape. at the soft click of the shutter, isa hears soft footsteps behind her, making her turn to find a familiar face. “oh!” isa exclaims, as she quickly lowers her camera and slips it back into her pocket, heart skipping a beat – perhaps out of having been caught in a hobby she barely let herself indulge, perhaps out of the memories from years ago. “morning. or, well, afternoon,” she remarks more accurately with a glance at her watch. “can you believe we’re still stuck here?” 

[swanslament]

✱   TIME.   〳 january 26th, 11:00pm. ✱   PLACE.   〳 limericks back kitchen ✱   FOR.   〳 @sentimntls

the news of getting officially snowed in had not exactly shocked isa from all the snow she saw on the way here, but it didn’t particularly excite her, either, to be trapped at the strip for the foreseeable future. but some higher power smiled down upon her earlier that week, and graced her with the foresight of leaving a packet of ramen in the back kitchen of limericks a couple shifts ago. she had been saving it for an emergency, and she supposed now seemed as good time as any for something warm, soupy, and full of msg. she’s leaned against the counter, head turned towards the stove as she waits for the small pot to boil, when she hears footsteps approach the doorway. “oh, hey.” she looks up and greets mila with a tight smile. she’s trying to think of what to say that isn’t as exposing as asking her about what happened between her and milo. to ask was to expose the fact that she was more bothered by mila than she liked to let on. it also wasn’t like they were that close anyways. “did you need something from the kitchen?”

[swanslament]

✱   TIME.   〳 january 27th, 12:15am. ✱   PLACE.   〳 on the stairs leading up to paperweight ✱   FOR.   〳 @laughtrackfm

isa had maybe taken one vodka shot too many, partially a result of the fact that, well, if she wasn’t going home anytime soon, she might as well make the most of it. she’s been feeling lately like her decisions since coming back to colossal have not been her brightest. the alcohol brought red to her cheeks, warmth unfurling itself until it left only her toes cold, although she still had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, fingers fidgeting along the soft fuzz. on the way up to paperweight, she pauses on the stairs to look back at dario. the keys to unlock the basement door jangle in her hands, a reward from convincing cj that she would definitely bring back a promising haul. “you think this is a good idea?” she says dubiously, eyebrows knitted. the initial plan was to go searching for more food in the paperweight-fast breaks vicinity. isa tilts her head at her roommate, which causes more blur than she thought, and she places a light hand on dario’s shoulder to steady herself. “not that i know quinn or rowan that well, but i don’t think i wanna be on their bad side, you know?”

[swanslament]

✱   TIME.   〳 january 27th, 12:00pm. ✱   PLACE.   〳 basement, by the stairs up to tantrum ✱   FOR.   〳 @hayesonthecourt

even though isa’s head felt like it weighed a ton, a reminder of how much she’d drunk the night before, it only fills her with a resolve to try and get home. even if it’s fruitless, she’s  desperate for some fresh air, to at least sink her fingers into snow rather than bracing herself against concrete and creaky wooden floors. and so, isa’s increasing restlessness has manifested itself into checking the front doors of the shops she can access, to see which one could be the easiest to yank open – preferably one that swung to the indoors, rather than the outdoors. limericks and paperweight were a bust, which is why she’s making her way towards the stairs that lead up to tantrum next. on her way, she spots devon – it was still weird to see her around so often these days, especially being at serenity hollow and rooming with her brother, but such oddities had only softened the edges of what she’d remembered about devon from high school. “hey, you don’t happen to have the keys, do you?” she asks devon, stopping in her path, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “to tantrum. i feel like now that the sun's up, maybe the snow is getting softer…”