#palmviewstarter

[loversfms]

LOCATION:  offshore  lanes STATUS:  open  !  @palmviewstarters

“i  googled  the  ideal  ball  weight  for  bowling,  and  the  consensus  seems  to  be  anywhere  between  twelve  and  fourteen  pounds.  HERE'S  MY  FEAR  …  i  skip  arm  day.  frequently.  in  fact,  i  don't  even  really  work  out  like  that.  what  if  i  drop  the  ball  before  i  throw  it  ?  like  in  wii  sports  ?  that  would  feel  even  more  embarrassing  than  the  time  i  accidentally  threw  my  ball  into  the  wrong  lane  and  knocked  over  some  other  girl's  pins.”

[cherriesfm]

status: open ! / @palmviewstarters location: sunrise cafe.

magnolia  wasn't  sure  if  it  was  boredom  or  her  love  for  the  classic  movie  makeover  moment,  but  there  was  always  something  enticing  about  taking  something  and  transforming  it  entirely.  whether  it  was  a  lackluster  outfit,  her  own  home  or  a  social  media  profile.  “no,  no,  no,  you're  doing  it  all  wrong,”  she  exclaimed,  pulling  the  laptop  to  her  instead,  fingers  tapping  away  at  the  keyboard  as  she  cast  her  coffee  aside.  “your  profile  ?  in  need  of  some  serious  work  !”  she  meant  it  in  the  nicest  way  possible,  but  maybe  her  excitement  at  just  how  much  she  would  change  peeked  through.  when  it  came  to  curating the perfect online presence,  magnolia  was  a  self-proclaimed  expert.  “first  of  all…  what  is  this  picture  ?”

[wandererfms]

location  :    sunset  villa  beach. status  :    open  . ( @palmviewstarters )

he  leaned  back  against  the  peeling  wooden  bench,    the  salty  breeze  of  palmview  ruffling  his  hair  as  he  glanced  around  the  bustling  boardwalk.     his  tattooed  fingers  idly  drummed  against  the  edge  of  the  bench,     rhythm  in  sync  with  the  distant  crash  of  waves.     the  sun  dipped  low,     casting  long  shadows  over  the  surf  shops  and  beachside  vendors,     their  neon  signs  flickering  to  life  as  dusk  settled  in.     he  pulled  a  blunt  from  his  pocket,     tapping  it  thoughtfully  against  his  palm  before  lighting  it  up,     the  tip  flaring  bright  in  the  growing  twilight.     inhaling  deeply,     he  closed  his  eyes,     letting  the  familiar  burn  settle  in  his  chest.     he  hadn’t  relaxed  in  a  minute  —  time  had  a  funny  way  of  slipping  past  in  this  town,     days  bleeding  into  each  other  with  the  rhythm  of  tides.

he  exhaled,     smoke  curling  up  toward  the  sky  as  footsteps  approached,     scattering  seagulls  nearby.     he  cracked  one  eye  open,     a  smirk  curling  his  lips.    "  well,     look  what  the  tide  dragged  in.  "    he  drawled,     flicking  ash  to  the  pavement.     his  gaze  lingered,     curiosity  sparking  in  his  eyes  as  he  leaned  forward,     elbows  on  his  knees.     "  so,     what  kinda  trouble  you  get  yourself  into  today?  "

[seasalteds]

status:         open. location:         outside   salt   air   apothecary,   front   entrance.

stepping   back   to   admire   his   handiwork,   heath's   eyes   couldn't   help   but   settle   on   one   of   the   brand   new   letters   he'd   ordered   to   revamp   salt   air's   sign   –   nothing   too   crazy,   of   course,   he   respected   his   grandparents'   vision   always,   but   just   something   to   catch   the   eye   of   any   tourists   unfamiliar   with   the   local   staple.   the   problem   was,   the   longer   he   looked   at   it   the   more   certain   he   was   that   something   was   off…   and   that   didn't   sit   well   within   his   aesthetically-motivated   heart. ❛   does   that   look   straight   to   you?   ❜    he   mused   to   nobody   in   particular,   simply   believing   he   would   catch   the   ear   of   either   an   unfortunate   passerby   or   an   even   more   unfortunate   employee   or   customer.

[veneumfm]

location  :  kissing booth @ heartstrings. status  :  open. 

"  just  a  tip  for  next  time  —  suck  on  a  mint  ,  first.  "  the  filter  was  falling  fast  ,  and  she  was  starting  to  fill  with  regret.  "  thank  you  for  your  donation  ,  but  i'd  practice  with  your  hand  ready  for  next  year.  "  she  offers  ,  still  blindfolded  and  smiling  bright  —  the  same  fake  one  she'd  worn  all  day.  slumping  back  on  the  stool  ,  she  reached  for  some  water  to  refreshen  her  mouth.  "  please  be  BETTER.  "  she  muttered  aloud  ,  unaware  of  the  volume  she  used.  

[minimcl]

for @palmviewstarters at roy harbor park

finding time to exercise with her schedule is difficult, but sometimes she can time a morning run in the park just perfectly post-shift. it makes it even easier to sleep after a long night of hard work. and as bria finishes her run, she spots a familiar face, waving as she pants and walks closer, gesturing to the space on the bench beside them, "mind if i sit?" she sits anyway before they have a chance to fully respond, "i always think it'll be nicer to run outside than run on the treadmill, but then i start running and i remember humidity," she shakes her head, a soft chuckle passing her lips, "i never learn." she glances over at the other, "anyway, what brings you out here in this heat?"

[wallfloweresque]

who: open @palmviewstarters where: the book nook

Over the last few years Brandon had called Palmview home, there were a few places that had begun to feel more home than the others. The bookstore was simply one of them. It somewhere he could curl up in a corner and be unbothered for a few hours... and if he was lucky, he could even carve out some time to write there. It was his way of justifying the fact that he took home a new book every week -- if he managed to hit his word count for the week, Bran could treat himself to a new book, and in turn add to his never ending TBR. “How about a deal,” he said, turning to the person seated a few feet away from him, a desperate effort to break out of his own shell. “You tell me about the book you’re currently reading and I’ll buy you a coffee.”

[silkfms]

open starter!! (@palmviewstarters) || location: golden palm estate!!

serin didn’t like dirt under her nails. and yet, here she was — standing in the middle of a vineyard, hair twisted into a low chignon, silk scarf knotted around her neck, watching someone try to explain the romance of fermentation with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever. her heels were sinking into the soil no matter how carefully she chose her steps. she resisted the urge to sigh. barely. “charming,” she murmured, glancing toward the rows of sun-drenched grapes like she was judging their pedigree. “there’s nothing like being reminded that great wine is just… rotting fruit and good marketing.” the words weren’t cruel. they were delivered with that soft, controlled cadence of someone who could be cruel — but didn’t need to be. she was dressed like she belonged in a fashion editorial titled how to drink wine without ever getting drunk, a glass of golden-hued sauvignon blanc held delicately between fingers tipped in designer nude polish. the golden palm estate was quaint, if one enjoyed that sort of thing — the rustic wood-beamed tasting room, the vintage signage, the aggressively wholesome energy that clung to everything like dew. she didn’t. but she appreciated the aesthetic. and the wine was, admittedly, decent. her eyes slid toward the newest arrival, brows lifting with the practiced curiosity of someone who saw everyone as a potential storyline, a useful asset, or a waste of her time. “tell me you’re not about to wax poetic about terroir,” serin said, swirling her wine without looking away. “i can only stomach so much passion before noon.” a smirk ghosted across her lips, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “but if you’re interesting? surprise me.”