#cvrpopen

[willow-cohen]

Chance Encounter || Willow & Open

This was how days normally went: Willow wound find herself in the office with a mound of paperwork her secretary would leave her. Sign on this, dot on this, do this for this. There would be a few phone calls she would receive for her to hear what was currently going on in her client’s lives. Most of the time her calls consisted of her scolding them for actions they shouldn’t have done – such light their soon-to-be-ex-spouse’s car on fire. Truly, adults turned into children when divorce papers came up to the surface.

After sorting through papers and taking the occasional call, she would find herself in a few meetings with some clients. Where, again, she was scolding them for their actions and telling them what they could do to remedy the situation. She’d introduce a one of the two lawyers she had working for her and leave them to deal with their clients on their own. She was still new to this. That meaning that most of the time she wanted to pull her hair out or drown her sorrows into alcohol the way her mother did.

Today was one of those days.

An exasperated sigh slipped through her lips a she brought the glass of wine to her lips. Her body was literally sinking into the chair supporting her, wanting to just meld with the furniture and just exist without some “higher” meaning. This was all foolish, really. Sometimes she believed she was in over her head opening up a Limited Liability Practice in family law; she really did. Wouldn’t it have been easier – both economical and just overall – to have joined a big lawyer company and get paid to live in some high riser over New York City?

No, she had decided that opening up a practice where her deceased best friend lived (and also putting her best friend’s name in her practice’s name) would be the best thing for her to do. At this point, Willow let out a low moan as she finished off the rest of her wine. “I need another drink,” she murmured to herself, pulling herself off of the chair to find her way around the bar. Upon reaching it, she squeezed between two people and muttered an apology to the person on her left for elbowing them. It happens, right? “Whiskey neat, please. It’s been a long day. And…” Turning to the person on her left, she cocked her head towards the person. “Whatever they’re having, it’s on me. For the bump. Not entirely sure if you spilled your drink or not.” 

[va-keaton-blog]

Tonight wasn't an easy night for Adam. Even after years of soberity, there were some things that were hard to change. The whole day had been one of those days that had been hard to get over. Rude customers, shitty hours, overall stress... Adam was lonely, tired, and overworked. Before this new life, he'd had gateway relievers. Stress was easier to deal with after a drink or two. Now, well, all he had was a cigarette, or two. Being sober was for the best, he knew that. Feelings were so hard to control; hard to deal with. And tonight, that was most obvious.

How long he'd been standing in front of this liquor store, Adam couldn't recall. That's what overthinking did to him-- it made him lose track of the simplest things. The cigarette he was smoking had burned halfway out. A good few minutes since he crossed that street to get to the bus stop, that's about how long. Adam never made it to that stop though. Despite passing this liquor store mulitple times before, tonight it was much harder to walk away from.

After another couple of minutes, the cigarette's butt created a burning sensation at his fingertips, moving Adam out of his hazy thoughts. The demons had their chance to win, but reality shook him awake. Allowing the burnt out cigarette to slide from his fingers, Adam sighed heavily and wiped his mouth. It wasn't until he picked up his hand that he noticed it was shaking. Shit. He had to get home. Abruptly turning away from the store's window, Adam absentmindedly bumped into a figure passing by.

Hissing some, mostly to himself, Adam grabbed the other by their forearms. He was still a little foggy, a little anxious from the battle he's trying to win, so he was... impatient. "Hey, watch it!" He seethed, his nervous eyes obviously not matching the tone in his voice. After realizing what he'd said, Adam blew another breath and looked down at his hands, immediately releasing the stranger before backing away. "I-I--" Tonight was not a good night, Adam could tell. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that." He explained, pulling the corner of his lip between his teeth.

[tennesseexarcher-blog]

leap of faith • tennessee & ???

There was nothing special or remarkable about St. Mary’s Catholic Church, other than the fact that the building’s exterior was beautiful. Besides, he’d seen it so many times in passing that he’d grown used to its elegant architecture. So he didn’t know what had made him stop in his tracks and hop off his red bike. It certainly wasn’t reverence—no, it was doubt. It was doubt that made his pedals falter, clouding his thoughts. In fact, it’d been nagging away at the back of his mind for a while now, but this was the first time he was facing the music. He climbed up the steps leading to the wooden doors, which, he found upon inspection, were locked. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to feel disappointed at that.

Tennessee considered himself as a non-practicing Catholic. Although he didn’t go to mass every Sunday, he did believe in the existence of one God, the Father Almighty, creator of heaven and earth. But how was he supposed to continue believing, when he had red cuts above his eyebrows and bruises on his arms from yet another fight? How was he supposed to continue when his own religion rejected and denounced what he was; when they described his existence with words like intrinsic moral evil and contrary to the natural law; when they sided with the assholes who spat slurs at him and laughed?

Swallowing hard, the young blond kicked (albeit weakly) at the Thanksgiving Day Mass sign out of pure impulse, a loud clang piercing the tranquil night. Thanksgiving was over long ago, why did they even have this thing lying around? He then bit down on his lower lip, suddenly feeling stupid and immature. Kicking random objects wasn’t going to resolve anything. He sniffled, angry and confused and cold. Perhaps he’d better just head home and pretend it had never happened, like usual.

[troublxdthornx-blog]

Just Another Noise || OPEN & Keegan

It was colder than she had expected it to be that day. Her bag was full of the homework she had managed to only half complete. The rest would have to wait until after she got home. Her shift had just ended and after locking up, she began on her way back to campus. The walk wasn’t too bad, but the sun was quickly dipping in the horizon and the wind picked up only a little more. Pulling her jacket close around her, Keegan checked her phone as she walked and found that her professor had decided to make the lab report that was supposed to be handed in on Friday due a day later, but along with that extension came an additional section. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she put the phone back into her pocket and began to speed up.

Her thoughts wandered as they seemed to always do when she was alone. Friday—it was the day she had to go visit her mom. Coupled with her other classes, and her shift that night, she didn’t know when she would have the time to finish all the work. Because of college, she had already missed her weekly visits for a few weeks, and there was the immense pressure of guilt pressing down on the girl. She was the only family her mother had left, and she had no idea how the woman was passing her days, but things weren’t looking too well. Concern for her grades, but also for her mother caused a strong split in her mind. Thinking of all these things, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of someone.

Turning to look, she saw a street lamp flicker, and for some reason, she stopped walking and focused in on that light. On, off, on, off. Every second or so, there was complete darkness, and then light once again—as though the light couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be on or not. Realizing she was wasting time, Keegan shook her head and turned to continue walking, when she almost ran into someone. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention,” she said, taking a few steps back.

[bookxddict-blog]

To be named | Tom & ________

Days at “Un Punto in Tempo” old bookstore were always the same, quiet at the beginning, busy in the evening to end just as quiet at the night. It was a nice building, old in age and a appearance, full of books in shelves, tables, everywhere. And even if it looked like a mess, you would find the book you are looking for: new or old.

The atmosphere seemed magical like a whole world full of books and letters, poems and stories that once read could come true in the mind of people.  Thomas had gotten the job there by a friend of his dad, an italian book seller who went by the name Ettiore. The man, that was in his forties already, loved to travel and collects books for the store. For the collection or to sell, whatever he wanted to do with them. He had been gone in a trip to Europe for six months recently, leaving him and his co-worker Paul in charge of the store.

“I told you it’s not my fault that Mr. Ettiore named the cat after you!” Thomas snarled while he crossed the hallway, Paul was only looking at how his friend was talking to the air as if there was another person with him, but there was no one.

“I just happened to see you when he asked for a name…” Tom continued, “I said  Poe! surprised to find you at the back with the old books, you scared me! So practically it wasn’t my fault. He just liked it.” To him it was the same Edgar Allan Poe in person to whom his words were addressed.

“Stop it!” He talked to Poe one more time, being this writer, Shakespeare and Ernest Hemingway the ones that followed him he most. "I'm not dealing with you anymore, go pick at a book or something."

Tom threw his arms into the air from the response he got and turning to Paul he told him he'd leave for the evening.

“I’m out!” Thomas stepped out of the place ringing the bell that hung from the door, the old wooden floor squeaked gently  as he stepped, something in the sound made him smile every time.

His eyes looked up at the sky, it wasn’t late yet, he could go for a walk at the river and if he had time even write a little bit. He was an amateur writer whose works had only been seen or heard by his ghosts anyway.

“Are you going to hold it on me? It’s a cute cat, you should be flattered. Tell him Ernest!” Exasperated Thomas groaned turning on his left side inevitably  bumping onto someone.

"I'm– I'm sorry... Didn't see you"

[kylelennox-rpc]

Flipping a few times on the bed, Kyle cuddled into the pillows, trying to shield himself from the sunlight that was intruding through the translucent storm glass windows. Perking his brow, Kyle stared out the window at the harbor; it was a beautiful day, and through the silence, he could scarcely make out the sound of the tide settling. A loud buzz, coming from his cell phone, chased away the last remnants of his dream-like state and a sigh escaped his lips as lucidity established itself. Pushing the duvet off of him, Kyle sat up on the edge of the bed, stretching out his arms and releasing a weighted yawn before making his way through the cold, wooden floor toward the phone - another voicemail. Kyle tossed his phone back onto the counter, and navigated himself through the comic books and clothes that bulged out of his opened suitcases, grabbing a shirt along the way and wrestled to put it on as he crossed his kitchen, and had finally reached the back of the boat. Twisting the wand, the vertical blinds responded flooding the somber room with light and lucent hues. Squinting his eyes, Kyle pushed the sliding glass door open and walked out onto the stern, studying the marina. Taking another step forward, he felt plastic brush against his bare foot, and glanced down only to find a newspaper with two documents taped onto it. The first was a letter that read:

"Dear Tenant,

                Welcome to Potomac River Marina. We hope you will enjoy living here and wanted to take the time to explain a few of the responsibili-"

Kyle crumbled up the welcoming letter from his landlord, and moved on to the next document(x), skimming through it before folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of his sweatpants. Looking back up at the marina, he noticed someone staring at him, and raised a questioning eye brow. "Can- Can I help you?"

[adriengracerp-blog]

smoke and mirrors (masks) || open

Jasper hadn't taken the 'formal' side of the invitation that seriously, not that he owned anything fancier than a button up. He'd layered up his favourite jumper over that, and that would be okay-- but then there was the slightest issue of the mask. He didn't own a mask that was suitable, and really, he didn't want to buy something for just the one event... But he did own a single mask, one bought on a whim on a slightly tipsy shopping trip with a friend who'd bought an entire Gamora costume.

That was how he walked into the masquerade ball in a Star Lord mask.

He personally thought it was the coolest there-- everyone else seemed to be taking the mask thing really seriously-- but still ended up sat on the stairs out the back with the thing perched on his head and a cigarette dangling from his lips. Not a habitual smoker, Jasper had never really gotten to like the smell or the taste, and wrinkled his nose every time he took a drag, but had decided to finish the damn thing anyway. He only had one pack, and couldn't be bothered buying another; they were more expensive than their worth to him. As a matter of fact, the amount he actually had had been a 'good luck' gift from an old friend, and Jasper liked to smoke one or two when he felt a little lonely, just as reminder.

Even though his nom de plume could easily have been Sentimental Boy, he turned to whoever it was who had come out of the back doors and grinned amiably, holding the cigarette out to them as he exhaled another swirl of smoke.

'You want?'

[adamlindstrom]

Adam pushed the cart through the grocery store as Lola trotted happily behind him, insisting on being free from its plastic confines. She wanted to practice the dances she learned in ballet class, hoping to be 'as good as the big girls' one day. She spun around his legs, twirling through the store as they made their way down the frozen food aisle. After bumping into a stranger halfway through a pirouette, she instantly rebounded into a sizable stack of bouncy balls, causing each and every one of them to fall out of the display box and scatter onto the shiny floor. Adam held back a snicker as he watched his little girl lose her footing and slip onto the ground, surrounded in a sea of bouncy balls. "Well, that is not good," he muttered out, reaching down to pick up his daughter. "Hey, I'm sorry about that. Kids will be kids, right?"