#ohq:starter

[queenofithaca]

@ohqstarters​

Tadasana. Urdhva hastasana. Uttanasana. Chaturanga. As Calla moved into the low push-up pose, she could feel the muscles working in her arms. Rising into an upward-facing dog and then a downward, she exhaled heavily, stretching out her legs. The yoga instructor often did a couple of sun salutations before her early morning class at the studio near midtown. As she reached tadasana one more time, she exhaled and brought her hands into prayer position, a peaceful expression on her face.

There was a rustle near the door and Calla’s head turned toward it. “You’re early,” she said with a smile on her face as she gestured to the empty room, darkened except for some small lights in the corner. The studio was in the penthouse of a large skyscraper and one wall was windows that looked out over Manhattan and into Queens. The sun had not yet risen. “But pull up a mat. We’ll get started soon enough.”

Calla took a long sip from her bottle of water before speaking again. “There’s something poetic about doing sun salutations as the sun rises, is there not?”

[ofgoldenjustice]

@ohqstarters

With the significant amount of time that had passed since Astraea had lived among the mortals, she had forgotten how utterly frustrating it was. That frustration had only grown with the current state of the world, and the current state of her being.

Orelia was fine, Astraea supposed. But being so young meant that no one actually listened to her, and Astraea found herself growing increasingly tired of being stuck in such a place. Changes needed to be made, and it was becoming clear that while stuck in Orelia’s body, she would not be able to effectively petition for any of them.

Still, there were some aspects of mortal life that she had found that she did not mind as much. Dusk had settled over the city, and the stars would be out soon. Even now, Astraea found comfort in the celestial sky, and she moved through the park, eager to find an empty bench to settle in to for a bit. When she did, she happily took a seat, pulling out a book, content to stay put until the stars would guide her home.

What she did not anticipate, however, was the shadow that covered her page. Looking up, she raised a brow, “Can I help you?”

[aroselle]

     Another day, another afternoon spent lounging about in a park, the sun against his skin. While Alexandre loves New York with all of his heart, he hates how cold it gets in the winter, and knows that he must take advantage of these last few warm days before he has to break out his collection of sweaters. Luckily, this day was particularly warm, for late October, and his shirt being unbuttoned so wholly wasn’t uncomfortable. Shooting a glance at his phone, he picked it up, scrolling through some notifications, going to reply to a DM about booking for the upcoming week.

     It was just as he was typing out a response that he felt a shadow over his skin. Moving his phone as to keep it from blocking his vision, he looked up at the other, tilting his head to the side slightly. “Can I help you with something?” he asked, raising his eyebrows, slight accent still tinting his words despite how long he’d lived on this side of the ocean. “Or are you just admiring the view?”

@ohqstarters​

[harmoniousxaddie]

@ohqstarters​

Harmonia had always spent the majority of her time with her mother (then with her husband, of course, and then as a snake). Being in this form, where Aphrodite didn’t know who she was and viewed her as a coworker - a friend, at best, but Harmonia didn’t think it had got that far yet - well, all of this was draining. Whereas before she would have found family to go to, here she was at loose ends when it came to finding someone to vent to. She knew a few of the other gods but hated to burden anyone with her problems. She had found a few places where she could go when she was overwhelmed and wait for the sensation to subside. She was in her favorite park at the moment, lost in thought, when she heard something behind her and shifted without looking. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “lost in thought, I’m afraid.”

[deathspinner]

@ohqstarters

even in the city as busy as new york, its streets packed with people almost regardless of the time of the day, sonya gets to enjoy her luxuriously large personal space. she walks and people will do whatever they can to avoid getting too close to her. they will step aside; the crowds will part. maybe someone would find it unnerving and distressing, the lack of contact between you and the rest of the world. 

sonya, however, is not one of those people. 

her heels click sharply against the sidewalk as she moves forward, and she is utterly unbothered by the reactions others might display at the sight of her. she truly could not care less of them, not when her gaze suddenly fixates itself on a figure standing not too far from her. sonya’s movements come to a halt. she tilts her head to the side, lips pressed together in consideration. ah well, she muses, running into one of them was inevitable. 

and she moves again, though this time she does not stop until she is standing right next to the person. “humor me.” sonya does not ask; she commands. “what do you think will happen to”—her slender finger points at a young couple ( late twenties, two working professionals, no human children, just a pet or two ) chatting across the street—“them in the next ten years?” her most consistent source of amusement? hearing their whimsical ideas.

[dreamsofasphodel]

It isn't always easy to carve out privacy in the city that never sleeps, but Rob has found it manageable; undoubtedly aided by his odd hours, and penance for neighborhoods well outside New York's tourist traps. That's how he's come to frequent this little coffee shop -- open 24 hours, tucked almost out of view, and conveniently nearly almost empty.  

Almost

It's a business.  He understands, there should be customers.  But that doesn't stop the rise of annoyance in the back of his throat as the front bell rings.  It's nearly 3am.  Do they have to be so loud?

[elysiuminbloom]

i. @ohqstarters​. 

Despite the high cost of living and the mound of student debt she did her best not to think about, there were some little luxuries that Laurel would not go without. One was her cup of coffee from a small hole in the wall cafe that she indulged in every morning. She would move to something herbal by lunch but there was nothing like a swift kick of caffeine to perk her up ready for the work day.  

Spread before her on the table was that day’s paper, and specifically, the obituaries. There were a large number of deceased mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters. But Laurel was always surprised by the number of people who had passed rather than died; like the deceased were an object, a ship passing in the night, perhaps, but not a person. She often wondered whether society would not be more comfortable with their mortality if they could at least speak about their inevitable end less euphemistically. 

She turned a page not seeing any names she recognised as she wondered aloud, “Why is everyone so afraid to talk about death?”

[petalonastream]

@ohqstarters​

After growing up in New York City, Elsie had developed an ease and comfort when it came to getting around. Though Eurydice still wasn’t sure how much of that childhood was true, she was still able to find her way around with the confidence of someone who had been here her whole life, and had found that her favorite spots hadn’t changed with the onslaught of the truth.

One such spot was a small tea shop, not far from the bookshop she had taken a job in. Working wasn’t entirely necessary, but she found a kind of peace among the well stocked shelves, and sometimes, after the energy it took to complete a rehearsal or performance, the overall hush of the place was a sort of refuge.

The door gave a small ding as she entered, and she let the air warm her for a moment, before shrugging off her jacket and making her way to the counter. It seemed another had had a similar idea, but they had positioned themselves in such a way that it was hard to tell exactly what they were trying to do. “Ah - sorry,” she tried her best to get their attention, “Were you in line?”