#❝ open starter.

[perikocak]

location » anywhere of your choosing, really; feel free to make it weird bc lbr it'd be v. on brand for peri

status » open to anyone, capped at 0/4

This was fine. She was fine. There was a stronger than average possibility she'd been at least semi-impaled by something—she couldn't quite tell what, exactly?—but she was fine. Really. She just needed a minute... or five.

Making no move to pick herself up out of the sprawl she'd found herself in, Peri sighed. She might've decided to just stay there, too, a whole mess of tangled hair and wayward limbs, had it not been for the sound of footsteps.

"I'd say you should see the other guy, but—" Peri laughed, low and breathless. "In an unshocking, highly impressive, turn of events I'm both me and he." In other words: she had nobody to blame for her current predicament but herself. As usual.

"Do you think you could, I dunno, maybe lend a hand?" Her own lifted and flapped around a bit in their general, upward direction. "Or you could always just join me, I guess. This spot loses a few points for comfort but turns out it has a pretty not so bad view."

[seykacar]

location: the labyrinth

status: closed, capped at 3/3.

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."

[bekturan]

location: lucille's diner

status: open, capped at (0/3) replies.

Bek Turan was a woman of habits. A woman of rituals and routine. One of them just so happened to be posting up along the counter at Lucille's, a spread of papers fanned around her plate and a cup of coffee within easy reach.

That day was no different. Treatment plans, progress notes, a tentative schedule for the next week— she'd made herself quite at home in the last hour she'd been there.

But Bek wasn't selfish. She knew she wasn't the only one who went weak at the knees for their churro milkshakes and piping hot fries.

When a figure appeared in her peripheral she glanced up, notching on a smile equally sheepish and sincere. "Sorry." She was taking up enough room for three people, wasn't she?

"Do you need the seat? I can move my things."

[selincakar-archive]

location: holy spirits

status: capped at 2/3 - @providencepeakstarters

Selin's gaze lowered to the screen of her phone, but— yep. Still nothing. Not a single text, missed call, or even a damn carrier pidgeon coming to peck at the windows to let her knew they were running behind.

Her heart wasn't really in it, anyway, so flying solo for a night was no skin off her back, but damn if she wouldn't have at least appreciated a heads up.

What a waste of a good dress.

Briefly, she fussed with the app to her insulin pump, covering for the extra drinks she'd no doubt be having now, then glanced north and to the left.

"Exactly how long would you wait on a Tinder date before saying screw you and vowing to revenge fuck their dad?" A slanted twist to her lips hinted she was only kidding. Probably.

[nazsayar]

❝ CITY BREW PUB, with anyone | open - closed | @vancitystarters​​

“This is a little awkward, but could you— could you do me a favor?” Before she could second guess herself, or the idea entirely, Naz slid her phone across the bar. “Honest opinion. Does this picture scream swipe left or swipe right?” Although she’d be the first to admit she wasn’t even sure which answer she preferred. She was (almost) certain she had no interest in dating. Just like she was (pretty) sure she didn’t want to admit her sister might be right. “I’m trying to avoid getting set up on anymore blind dates, but the only way my sister will stop is if I prove I have it handled on my own.” 

[sabyazici]

❝ at a local park, open to anyone —

One yard sale easel, a thrown in box of half used paints, and two hours later Sab stepped back to admire her ‘work’. Was it a really tall person? A lonely tree? A mutant dog? By that point, even she couldn’t tell. She was about to scrap the whole thing and call ‘painting in the park’ a bucket list box better left unchecked when, out of the corner of her eye— Oh shit. Were they looking?

“I totally meant for it to turn out that way,” she rushed to offer (just in case), her tongue tripping over the blatant and obvious lie. “I was going for... erm. Abstract impressional-surrealism.” 

[nesrinadem]

❝ during an art walk on august 4th with anyone — CLOSED ​

“I’ll be honest, I know next to nothing about this sort of thing,” Nes murmured in confession when the group paused at a new mural, casting a quick and somewhat sheepish smile to the person stood next to her. Her daughter, Selvi, was the only reason she came. Coincidentally, she was also several paces ahead - in true teenager fashion - and nipping at the heels of their tour guide. “Are you a big fan of the arts, or just along for a the ride?”

[reedbriar]

❝ at the stingray boathouse, for the celebration of life dinner   open - closed | @lunarcovestarters​​ 

'I was shocked, sweetie. Just shocked,’ one coven member murmured in Briar’s ear. ‘None of us expected you to fail the Trials, but I have to say you’ve handled it with such grace,’ another whispered in some ass-backwards form of praise. Cheeks were kissed, arms were opened for consolation, and all the while she felt the smile slowly chip and crack upon her face.

The night was supposed to be about honoring Sandra Lynn Collymore’s life and achievements, right? So why the hell, all these months later, were people still acting like she was the one who died? Even if she had to admit, in some ways, they might’ve been right.

But Briar didn’t want to think about that now— or ever if she could help it. 

Making a flimsy excuse to get away, she slipped out of the boathouse and into the night’s dark embrace. A gentle breeze kissed overheated skin, loosening a sigh of relief. For a second, anyway. As soon as she realized she wasn’t quite as alone as she thought, all her tension returned. “Shit. Sorry!” Fumbling, she pushed away from the wall. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I just.. needed a minute.” Or ten.