#eden.starter

[allvrcs-blog]

the sky is starting to turn. june understands that many people surrounding her question if it will be the last sunset they witness. june hasn’t really wanted to think deeply about things like that. she’s still on her own journey that she doesn’t want to hold herself back from finding more about herself. she will live to see the end of the world, be it tonight, or hundreds of years from now. the only difference is she’s choosing to be smarter than that, and not let it cloud her judgement.

observing is one of her favorite things sitting outside one of the roaring new york city restaurants, she enjoys having her drink in one hand, cigarette in the other. serves little purpose to her but she likes that it makes her feel wholly human, in some perverse way.

she then realizes her drink is empty. it’s the choice of staying and hoping a server comes to her, or getting another herself. she decides the latter and raises to her feet. she puts her cigarettes out and gets to her feet, going to the bar and getting another drink where, upon returning to her seat, she bumps into a shoulder, sending her drink across her dress. “well,” she sighs, not particularly upset, but merely analyzing the situation. “that’s unfortunate.”

[allvrcs-blog]

Time: 7:32pm Place: Recreational Hall Reason for arrival: Uncertain

      there’s a reason to put on a gown and to observe humanity in it’s most raw form. of course the prospect of it would draw june in like a moth to a light. 

she’s been holding onto her champagne flute for a while now. the bubbly nature still captivates her and she tastes the bitterness and the burn at her throat when she sips, but she knows that there will be no affect to her drinking it. it doesn’t matter, she enjoys the experience of participating in human culture. so she stands among the crowd, knowing some people might recognize features of her face. they stay far away, and she knows why. she doesn’t spark conversation, merely listens and observes to others. it’s a dreary thing to be part of, but it seems that people are still holding back in their conversation. It’s a bit surprising, she would think they value the celebration of life. yet maybe, with this group of people, things are a bit different. 

her head turns to watch a screen scroll past different photos. it’s easy to tell what it is; the quiet somber music, the joyful pictures scrolling past. they’re no longer among the living and her respect goes out to those who lost their lives fighting for something bigger than them. she feels someone beside her, and holding her flute to her chest, she glances to her side.

              “don’t you think this is a bit... tonally insensitive?”

[loveofcharacters-a]

Open to: m/f/nb Connection ideas: a trainee at work, her work partner, her romantic partner

As Eden walked into her office and was a little startled to see the other situation on her couch. "Oh, hi," she greeted before taking in the look on the other's face. She knew something was wrong, and knowing them. It was something, they did wrong. "Oh no," The woman sighed putting her purse on the hook before placing her hands on her hips. “what have you done now?”

[mccall-osterman-blog]

date & time: 8:00pm, a few days after the gala location: mccall’s house, upper east side availability: closed to @oztheinsecureandpowerful

Night: dull-starred and cicada-eyed. Ever since Tesla launched its first ad satellite in ‘32, logos speckle where constellations once swirled, leaving no escape from the noise and cluttered endorsements. “Buy our contacts, see the sky for what it once was!” an ad declares, its tech a fiberoptic coating that blocks ad-specific light frequencies. She knows it well — she finalized LensBloc’s patent, after all — and her stomach churns at having helped hide the night sky behind a paywall. But times have changed, or maybe they haven’t and Mccall’s just now noticing, or maybe she'd previously deluded herself in a heroic haze on who she fought for all this time.

She looks at Oz sprawled next to her on her sofa, a bottle of now-hollow cognac in his arms. She doesn’t ask him about Spain or why he vanished there. She doesn’t ask if he’s kept in touch with any of their old friends. She tries to feel in-tune with him but everything seems distant, now, inches apart on her couch but miles away. If she could ask him anything like an old friend again, what would she ask? The questions burning inside her? If heroes were good for the world? If they ever were? Her gaze flits to the one-star telenovela they started when they both first joined Legion: seven long-lost-sister reveals later and they were still watching it. She looks to Oz again. Looks back at the tv. Looks back at Oz. “Do you ever wonder,” she begins, speech slightly slurred, “if we did the right thing? By joining Legion in the first place? By leaving it — the streets — the city — behind?”

[elodisms-blog]

elodie stood on the side walk staring at her car. for whatever reason, she couldn’t get the damn thing to start. the brunette walked over to the hood and threw it open. for being alive a long millennium, you’d think she would have learned by now how to fix a car; but not elodie. when she looked into the hood all that stared back at her was a bunch of boxes. sure, she could have just walked home, or hell even bought a new car; but this white little 1947 buick was quite special, because she had taken decent care of it thus far. she attempted to poke and inspect some of the boxes but all she got in return was a tiny puff of exhausted smoke. “ oh come on !! ” elodie exclaimed giving a kick to the front of the car. the brunette huffed, continuing to poke at some of the wires until she heard a voice calling behind her and spun around.

[90sbiitchs]

‘ so this customer was WIGGIN’ OUT, right, about this stupid flannel that didn’t have a price on it. he was all, ‘no way, i shouldn’t have to pay for it, it didn’t have a price’. this was a GROWN ASS MAN, by the way. so i was all, ‘get out of my shop, you scrub’, and he tried to run out of the store with the fuckin’ flannel !! the only problem was, i don’t have automatic doors, so the beeyotch ran right into the glass doors, like an idiot. it was hilarious. ’