#c.nilay.bailey

[thephoebeyates]

≈ the bailey-falvey residence. with @doctornilaybailey

“Sorry, you must be sick of wasting your medical supplies on me.” Phoebe apologized again, wrist firmly under the running water of the tap, as Nilay checked over the latest Misty-caused scratch. The criminal herself was mewling desperately from her cage, all but abandoned near the kitchen door when the anthropologist had noticed the angry red cut that drew blood. Realistically, Phoebe knew she didn’t have to leave the cat alone in the apartment when she went out, but trips to Nilay and Eli’s house had — as of late — resulted in spontaneous sleepovers, so she’d rather take Misty with her than bother Ruairi about checking on her. However, Phoebe was still not getting the hang of transporting the little gray cat into the carrier — a job that Foster had all but exceeded at — so she had a habit of showing up to the Deer Park house battered and bruised.

“But I timed us today. Twenty minutes! I think I can get it down to fifteen by next week.” She joked, remembering the first time it took over an hour, mainly because Phoebe couldn’t stop sobbing long enough to really focus on grabbing Misty from where was wedged behind the couch, the stress of the break-up and the emotional after-effects taking a toll on both cat and owner, the absence of Foster suffocating. “I, uh, was thinking about arranging some, uh, custody agreement. When he isn’t working.” It was the first time she had brought him up unprompted, the idea playing in her mind since seeing him at The Vault a week ago. “They miss each other, I think.”

[theromandaniels]

≈ the jade palace. with @doctornilaybailey

It was a filming week for Ophelia, which meant some sort of obnoxious cast-mate had flown in for some ‘authentic’ dinner scenes. They were due to be set up in The Silk Road, adjacent to The Jade Palace, but production was running behind, so they opted for off-camera drinks at the hotel bar, inviting Roman along. And he only agreed because Ophelia would have called him names otherwise. 

He had managed to dodge the questions about the splint that had an all but permanent placement on his right hand, and pretty soon listening to his sister and her friend/on-screen frenemy reminisce about life in London, it was just easy to forget about all of his shit for a moment. He could pretend his hand wasn’t permanently numb, that there weren’t spirits lingering around this ghost town, taunting him about his past. But then all of a sudden, he noticed from the corner of his eye, a ghost-adjacent. Not a full haunting, but more like a…spiritual orb you only noticed in photographs.

Nilay Bailey. Elijah’s partner. 

He was aware of the company he was in, aware that if production for Ophelia’s show got wind of it, they’d probably try to get it all on-camera. There were simply too many moving parts at play to attempt any sort of scene. So, he politely nodded at her, smiling tightly, wondering just how much of his soured relationship with Eli she was truly privy too, but unsure if he was desperate enough to ask.

[thephoebeyates]

≈ phoebe’s apartment. with @doctornilaybailey

Growing up in poverty meant growing up embarrassed of where you lived, unfortunately. Phoebe had always dreaded having friends over who lived in the nicer areas of Blue Harbor. It was a feeling that never really went away, even though her apartment in Cardinal Hill was a decent part of the downtown area, and she put her entire soul in decorating it with personal touches to whatever limitations her landlord had set for her.

Still, it was still an anxiety gnawing on her when she invited Nilay over; the anthropologist having a free moment of time, deciding to utilize that by properly meeting Misty. The cat hadn’t come out to attack the latest guest yet, though from the distant scratching noises, Phoebe knew she was close by when she welcomed Nilay in, instructing her to sit as she made them drinks, keeping her worries at bay by keeping busy. “So, just a word of warning!” She called from the kitchen, searching cabinet after cabinet — wondering where the fuck Foster housed the sugar nowadays — pulling a face at the $10 Earthwave branded garlic powder whose sole existence was the mock her, slamming the cupboard door closed. “If she approaches, just like, cross your arms over yourself. She’ll do that dopey thing where she’ll throw herself on her back and expose her tummy — it’s a trap to latch on!” Finally finding the sugar, she gave her own drink a generous spoonful and a quick mix, picking up the mugs and carrying them through, still talking about how to defend oneself best against Misty. “And if she jumps up on you just freeze, play dead, just don’t move because she will —”

Pausing at the sight before her, Phoebe’s jaw fell open. Misty, the demon cat who regularly drew blood from both her parents, was purring loudly in Nilay’s open lap, big eyes blinking slowly at the curator, only tilting her head to offer the intern a smug side-eye. If cats were capable of smirking, Phoebe would bet her entire savings on Misty doing that right now. “What the fuck?” 

[themagdalenaotiende]

> Tres Amigos Stall, Pride Event. For @doctornilaybailey

If there were one adjective to describe Blue Harbor, Magdalena would probably settle for 'welcoming'. Every person she had spoken with at the festival thus far had been nothing short of friendly, and it only encouraged her to truly do right by the town with the project she was brought in to oversee.

"I'd love to tell you about what we have planned so far!" She had exclaimed to the anthropologist, a Doctor Nilay Bailey, she had got talking to at the Mexican street food stand, the two women sharing one of the picnic benches near the stall, as she tackled eating her trio of tacos as gracefully as she could muster. "But first you must tell me about your wing at the museum, I haven't had a chance to explore it yet. My only visits there have been strictly business."