#purposefed

[fatherslamb]

"I'm not sure if my former job is of any use here, actually. But I did obtain a new one in this place."

Her smile comes easily, a chirplike laugh escaping her lips for just a moment; she's just fine talking to new people here. She's unsure why he'd approached her, but it isn't so bad. She lives here, after all, she may as well do her best to be kind.

She much prefers the simple, calm cafe work over her neuroscience study, over financial worries, over stressing about science and monitoring her God Eaters. However, she does miss managing the Magnolia Compass branches...that's neither here or there though.

"I'm sure you could find something that suits you, if you're worried."

@purposefed

[isolaradiale]

hello, i'd like to apply for one oliver beebo from detective beebo night at the mansion. application is under app on the side or /a!

Welcome to scenic Isola Radiale, Oliver!

You will be housed in HOUSE 104.

You’ll be given a complimentary notebook. Enjoy your stay!

*Aspidiske

[paraunfinal]

@purposefed

one would think waking up next to a giant, gaping pit would spark more anxiety... and, well, one would be correct. but, with his mask on -- his bravado plastered and nausea stifled -- dominion feels... numb. numb as he's dropped off in front of house 106. numb as he takes out his key. numb as he turns his cheek to see...

"OLIV-- what're you--!?"

ángel dominion rights himself almost as quickly as he'd faltered; back straightened, tone strengthened. confident. artificial. he hopes the wind is doing his billowing cloak a favor in theatrics. "i mean, figures my brilliant(ly handsome) rival would be right on my heels. already captivated by the island's mysteries, i assume? or, what's this...?" he lets silence and a pointed nod toward the other man's stare do what a well-placed smirk otherwise would. "...is it me you're captivated by, detective?"

we're... neighbors. (but the photobook isn't here.) what do i do now? (how am i supposed to make things right?) he'll put two and two together -- oliver isn't stupid--!

oliver... right. he looks... tired. are those bags under his eyes?

dominion softens despite himself, gripping one arm beneath his cloak. tight enough to ache, lest he do something rash, like cross the house 105-sized chasm between them and... god forbid, hold his love's face or something.

"are... you alright?" you look like you've seen a ghost.