#cascadeopen

[selliered]

with:  open, feel free to assume connections!  ( @cascadestarters ) where:  the  side  of  the  road,  somewhere  between  neighborhoods

some  days,  the  truck  just  wakes  up  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  bed.  and  today,  linus  is  becoming  increasingly  aware,  is  one  of  those  days.  pleads  for  it  to  at  least  crap  out  somewhere  populated  fall  on  deaf  ears,  with  the  engine  making  a  concerning  enough  noise  to  finally  make  him  pull  over.  fantastic.  amazing.  mutters  something  about  a  "fucking  stupid,  useless,  hunk  of  junk"  as  he  climbs  out  of  the  truck  and  pops  the  hood.  as  if  he  has  any  idea  what  he's  looking  at  —  it  all  just  looks  like  engine  to  him.  he  fiddles  with  anything  that  looks  like  it  might  move,  trying  to  look  like  he  knows  what  he's  doing  for  an  audience  of...  well,  no  one.  great.  he  steps  back  and  kicks  the  front  tire.  hard.  looking  up  from  the  innards  of  the  truck,  he  sees  a  car  approaching  in  the  distance.  would  it  be  cliché  to  stand  on  the  side  of  the  road  with  his  thumb  out  like  a  hitchhiker?  he  does  it  anyway,  squinting  at  the  approaching  vehicle  and  gesturing  to  his  broken  down  truck  once  it  got  close  enough  for  it's  occupants  to  see  him  clearly.

[scottgrainger]

with: anyone! / @cascadestarters location: false cascade trails when: a sunday, early afternoon

"Cujo!" His windbreaker swished with his every step, taking long strides along the trail as he tried to catch up with his dog. Well, not his dog. Technically, Cujo belonged to his dad, which felt like a cruel punchline after surviving a childhood where he wasn't allowed so much as a goldfish. He'd gotten the beagle almost five years ago, but Cujo had somehow retained his too-big paws and floppy ears, making him that much harder to ever say 'no' to. After slipping his collar and extending this hike an extra twenty minutes? Scott didn't think those literal puppy dog eyes would be working on him for a long while. He sighed, squinting up at the sky that'd gone gray, a fine mist of rain just starting. "Cujo, where you at, boy!"

[m1nnies]

open  to  anyone !  (  @cascadestarters  ) where:  six  rivers  flea  market. when:  a  hot  sunday  afternoon.

she  was  walking  around  the  flea  market,  with  a  melting  frozen  coffee  in  one  hand  and  a  portable  fan  in  the  other.  sweat  dripped  down  her  temple  as  she  looked  at  all  the  pretty  beads  and  jewels  a  vendor  was  selling  —  perfect  for  handmade necklaces or bracelets.  she  suddenly stumbled,  as  clumsy  as  ever,  and  bumped  into  someone  who  was  walking  in  the  opposite  direction.  “shit,  i’m  so  sorry  !“  her  cheeks  burned  bright  red  as  she  righted  herself. "are you alright ?"

[darrowhawthornes]

for: anyone! / @cascadestarters

where: utp

"I work there, I'm pretty sure I'd know if it was actually haunted."

[nessagates]

open to: anyone! (4/5) @cascadestarters where: Got a Dime?

"Look, I'm not saying it looks bad on you, I'm just saying maybe it's not your color?" Nessa stands outside the unisex changing room with her hands on her hips, deep in concentration. She took her job as fashion advisor very seriously. "Like, raspberry type pinks look awful on me. You just have to trial and error these things." A woman clears her throat behind them, seemingly impatient to use the sole changing room of the thrift store, but Nessa doesn't budge from her spot. "When I sew an outfit, I have to try it on like fifty times. Probably because I measure it wrong the first time, but hey, trial and error!"

[january-newby]

open to anyone, feel free to assume a prior connection! @cascadestarters

Sometimes January liked to pretend she was more athletic than she actually was. She'd get these urges to put on her sneakers and go over to Audrey Horne Park to jog. Typically, she'd make it halfway around the path before she remembered how unathletic she was. The weather was nice today and January had been at the bakery all day, so she thought a nice jog around the park would be a good way to unwind. As per usual, she was wrong about that. So, instead of finishing her run, she'd collapsed like a starfish in the grass, staring up at the clouds in the sky. "Not dead," January mused when a shadow passed over her. "Just bad at running..." She patted the spot next to her. "Join me, it's nice down here. No one has to pretend to be athletic down here..."

[sugartalkins]

open starter with @cascadestarters | where: holy sheet | when: a hot summer’s day

lucy  stared  down  at  the  whirling  of  her  clothes,  holding  her  breath  in  suspense.  she  could  feel  the  rapid  flutter  of  her  chest,  up  and  down,  erratic  and  nearly  on  the  verge  of  happy  tears  to  see  her  spin.  “oh  my  god,  it’s  working!”  she  beamed,  eyes  brightening  with  hope  before  she  heard  the  click  of  the  machine  in  front  of  her.  lucy  felt  her  face  fall  immediately,  melting  into  an  expression  that  could  only  be  described  as  defeat.  “no,  no,  no,  no…”  she  stood  up  straight,  fingers  curled  around  the  edge  of  the  washing  machine.  lucy  watched  as  it  slowed,  her  eyes  burning  with  anger  as  she  allowed  herself  to  take  action  before  thinking.  with  one  swift  kick,  the  machine  whirled  back  into  action,  but  lucy  nearly  fell  on  her  ass.  “ouch!  fuck!”  her  knee  shot  up,  hands  clinging  around  her  foot  as  she  bounced  around  for  a  moment,  attempting  to  stabilize  herself.  “oh  my  god,  did  you  see  that?!  the  little  shit  worked  for  a  whole  minute  then  stopped!  and  now  i’m  hurt!  i  hate  this  stupid  machine!”  she  huffed.  “please  tell  me  you  saw  that  so  i  don’t  look  crazy  bouncing  around  like  this?!”  

[oftillyjones]

"Can we please agree that my life has been written by lemony snickets, because I keep remembering the guy who I thought was very cute and ended up getting a whole jug of sweet tea poured over his white shirt because I was flirting a little too close to the sun," Tilly sighed, rolling her eyes as she recounted the events. "I'm sure the guy wasn't thrilled about being signed up for a wet t-shirt contest, and while I didn't hate the view, I am forever mortified and should be banned from talking to any hot person in fear that I'll trip and set off a chain of catastrophic events," @cascadestarters