#misery.starter

[adulterines]

open starter ─── an hour after sunset, as the folks of the harbour seem to taper off and the ritual of night begins to settle in, where cicada song begins to overshadow the chatter of humans yet again.

the scent of coffee grounds still lingered on his hair, thankfully neutralizing the pungent scent of the summer bluefins and the spoils that keep misery fed. even with it, he seemed to linger here, by the water, where waves crash and drown the thoughts that knocked at his psyche's door. for all intents and purposes, this was a neutral zone: no deals here, not wanting to impede on the stomping grounds of fishermen and bait-'n-tackle shop owners with an industry more lackluster, despite the same familiar faces who meet up with him in back alleys and empty lots. by the water, he was just wolfe.

so, he doesn't notice the footsteps, heavy and echoing atop the lumber being slowly eaten away by the elements. he doesn't register that they're coming in his direction — why would they? if he cannot provide a service, what other use does he have to anyone in town? it nearly makes him jump, their silhouette in his periphery. " fuckin' christ— " his mother would've filled his mouth with soap for using that name in vain. " you couldn't choose any other spot on this damn dock? "

[ovrcasts]

LOCATION  :  town   hall.  OPEN  STARTER  :  uncapped.

                the   blinds   in his office are   half-open ,   throwing   thin   stripes   of   afternoon   light   across   a   desk   that   looks   busy   -   papers   fanned   out  ,   a   folder   open   to   a   page   he   stopped   reading   twenty   minutes   ago .   the   computer   monitor's   angled   away   from   the   door ,   volume   low ,   but   not   low   enough   to   hide   the   sound   of   some   guy   murmuring   reverently   about   the best jig   weight to use for catching trout .

                kai's   got   his   chin   propped   on   one   hand ,   thoroughly   absorbed ,   when   the   door   opens .   he   doesn't   look   up   to   see   who   it   is   -   he's   too   busy   closing the browser   half-a-second   too   slow .   “ -   that's   a   budget   report , ”   he   says   as   he   sits   up   straighter ,   and   attempts   the   posture   of   a   man   who   has   been   productive   all   day ,   sliding   the   open   folder   two   inches   to   the   left   like   it'll   help .   “ very   riveting   stuff …   numbers …   very   important   numbers . ” 

[assumedguilt]

⌗   𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝗋   , mariner's tavern , late at night   .  open to responses { 1/4 }

ezra appreciates spending these nights alone, in the quietest corner of the tavern. it's not much — but it's as close to socialization that ezra gets these days, hidden over in the corner with a paperback open and folded over in front of him, single beer he's been nursing for several hours gaining more and more condensation as time slowly ticked on, yet the glass remained half empty, or half full — depending on how you decided to look at it, at that moment. he's totally sure that his whole setup isn't inviting people to approach him. in fact, ezra has pointedly crafted the entire vibe to keep people away from him, so he can simply enjoy being out — and not sitting alone, in his house, doing the exact same thing. which is why the appearance of someone else across the booth makes him feel a little insane. he doesn't bother fully looking up, instead speaking into the book before flipping it over, and stating, "seat's taken." with the surety of someone who is very, very used to scaring people off with a minimum amount of words.