#talkingsainthood

[exitiumparit]

@talkingsainthood

She’s a people watcher. It’s easy to see in the way her eyes follow the room--either that, or she’s a cop, and she’s damn good at her job. He prides himself in knowing people, and although she is still enigmatic, he sees parts of her plainly. She’s studying; her eyes twitch a little in possible amusement (maybe, could also be an annoyance), and when she’s curious, she stills for a moment longer. There is something fascinating in her--he wants to get to know her better.

(Well, he wants a whole lot more, but he’s not that type of asshole.)

“Vodka cranberry. Drink of the classics,” he commented, stepping a little closer with his wine glass in hand. She had eyes that told him she’d tear his throat out if he misstepped. “Ethan. Pleasure to meet you.”

[skymma]

@talkingsainthood | closed starter 

Laura knows that Audrey doesn’t really like her all that much. It’s not like it’s some big secret, and Audrey isn’t all that difficult to read, even though she has the picture perfect smile and knows how to pose for the camera and everyone else. She was raised by someone who’s more business than human, after all.

But Audrey doesn’t know all the reasons she really should dislike her. Laura’s been feeling it a lot lately, the way everyone wants a piece of her, and the way her smile is really a snarl, because she doesn’t like people all that much anymore and she likes herself even less. 

Maybe that’s why she skipped class. She usually doesn’t, because she too has to be picture perfect, but sometimes you just need a smoke. 

So here she is. Behind the school, in that particular spot that’s sometimes littered with cigarette butts, because no teacher ever goes there and so all the renegades do instead.

She’s not all that surprised when Audrey shows up, fiddling with her own pack of cigarettes, and Laura feels a moment of dark satisfaction at the way Audrey hesitates for a second when she sees her. Not that she lets that show, at least not all that clearly.

She takes a drag and simply says, “hi, Audrey", a little like she’s daring her to stay. 

[charyka-a]

@talkingsainthood | cont. from here.

Ah, here now: the headstrong one. The drowning but breathing one. The one who thinks she can challenge the world in its entirety from the pits of Hell where it crawled from in the first place to hurt her, to hurt her.

Too bad he crawled out of those same exact pits, too.

“Au contraire, miss. I am being perfectly literal.”

The smile is enough to show the spark of delight that dances in his eyes: surely she must know he is joking. Surely she must see he is simply paling along, as they say, part of the town. The newcomer, certainly, but still damnably trustworthy.

“My name is Leland Gaunt, or simply Mister Gaunt, or simply Leland.”

He offers her a ringed hand, the same one that’s been serving customers all day in that small shop he opened just at the beginning of the week: a quaint little thing that always seems to give you just the thing you wanted to find. One day it’s a carefully decorated plate. The next it’s a small set of thimbles. Tomorrow, who knows?

“I so happen to be the proprietor of Twin Peaks’ most recent little shop... Found Chances. I suppose you’ve heard of it.”

[damnfinecup]

@talkingsainthood​ // prior:

                    ‘ you know, ’ audrey begins, chancing to lean nearer, a brow lifted in an almost-playful challenge, ‘ they say talking to yourself is either the first sign of madness or the first sign of genius. don’t you think it might help to talk to someone who can answer, instead of just into your tape recorder? ’

                       Dale presses the stop button on his tape recorder, brows raising as he eyes her.  He’s silent for a stretch--  he has that intense gaze of his, determined eyes.  Determined of what?  Something only he knows, probably.

                      “Diane can answer.  With delay of a day or two, though.”  His lips upturn, and he shakes his recorder with a wag in her direction.  “Overnight delivery.  Amazing thing, you know, modern mail system.  We’ve come a great way since the pony express.”  With that, he pockets the device, and grabs a fork with intent on finishing his breakfast.  Takes a bite.  Seems to be mulling something over as he chews his food, and he rubs his napkin across his lips.

                      “It’s a habit,” he admits.  “The tapes.  Since I was thirteen.”

[damnfinecup]

@paydlrt replied to your photo: DAMN

i know .  i am simply TOO darn BEAUTIFUL ! amazing .  stunning

@talkingsainthood replied to your post:  sends warm fuzzies from my brain to yours i'm sorry things are Gross and i hope you feel better soon, friend <3

tHANK YOU !!!!  i know my brain is just being melodramatic As Always, which is Unfortunate.  i need to GET ON TOP OF THINGS !! ᕕ(  ︡’-‘︠)ᕗ

[skymma]

@talkingsainthood | starter call

It had absolutely been a surprise to come across the name Audrey Horne in a case file, just like that. 

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, in retrospect; this was Seattle, close to where he’s gotten to know her and the town she lived in before he’d left with all kinds of scars on his soul. It had been an abrupt farewell to somewhere that had once felt overwhelmingly like home, even the first time he’d set foot there. Audrey, he’d said a soft but short goodbye to, when she’d learned that he was checking out and had come to his room, just like she had thevr first time. There were clearly certain perks to your family owning the hotel where everybody stayed.

The first time, she’d said, you’d better watch out. But it seemed like Cooper would get the drop on her now, not the other way around. 

He used it to observe, for a short moment. To look at her. Time had been kind to her, at a glance, but the fact that she was leading a private eye firm told him one or two things that she might not have wanted others to know about what hid behind that decisive, stubborn spark in her gaze.

“Audrey Horne”, he said when he came up to her desk, lightly tapping his fingers against it to get her attention. The smile he gave her was a tired and aged version of the sunny grin it had once been, but it was no less sincere. “Can’t say I expected to see such a familiar face today.”