#thread: jj

[ludomalatesta]

CLOSED STARTER: @jjbaptiste​ LOCATION: jj’s office

She’s not entirely sure what she’s asking for aside from trouble when she texts JJ, and her plan fails to see any further development by the time Ludo finds herself standing in the doorway of his office. Perhaps that’s all she needs, though; some new, external focus to shift the blame of her addictions and anxieties onto. 

“Jacques?” one six-inch heel after another, she steps across the threshold. There’s a placid smile on her face, one to match the conduct of an eager employee, though the mischievous glint in her eye doesn’t quite line up with the character. “Is now a good time?”

[saffiealbright]

@joshua-buckley​

it wasn’t often that seraphina felt the adrenalin pumping through her veins. not like this. not as she whisked around her room in search of lipstick and dresses and shoes that, frankly, she hadn’t worn in years. for once she was thankful that they were still in her possession, having almost donated or thrown it all out on countless occasions. she’d need them if she wanted a leg up on her dinner meeting with her parents. ethan and annabeth albright—or, rather, those in cohorts with the devil, as far as she was concerned. long ago had their naivete and self-centered mindsets turned her off, bringing her to avoid them as much as possible. she had, however, taken advantage of their willingness to provide their only child with an expensive, prestigious education. the pitfall of making a deal with the devil, however, was that whenever she stepped out of line or did anything to jeopardize that education, they’d find out. no matter that she was twenty-two, an adult, and only months away from graduating. they always found out. “mr. fucking hudson,” saffie hissed under her breath for what must’ve been the eighth time as she slipped a black velvet dress over her head and body. the hasty motion fussed with her hair, bringing her to check it in the nearby vanity mirror and attempt to smooth it out with both hands. then there were the earrings—the studs, the little diamond studs that had just been sitting atop that vanity.

equal parts frustration and worry built in her chest. they’d been a birthday gift from her mother last year. a gift that proved she had no idea who her daughter was, but a gift nonetheless and tonight’s pièce de résistance. she needed those damn earrings. pulling the small chair in front of the setup out, saf knelt down and began searching the ground. though she didn’t face the door, it wasn’t hard to hear it open, a shadow much taller than herself casting into the room. looking over her shoulder, her gaze landed on JJ. however, it left just as quickly, the girl standing up and spotting the studs on the chair. how the hell had she missed that? shaking it off, she leaned towards the mirror and began putting one in. “hey,” her voice called out across the space. as far as she recalled, they didn’t have plans tonight. and if they did, no they didn’t. not anymore. “i’m actually heading out in a minute,” she continued, finishing with the second stud and turning to face him. “my parents decided to visit last-minute, which means a required dinner at the most embarrassingly expensive restaurant within driving distance.”  moving towards the closet, her browse rose in a slightly dramatic show of distaste. not exactly for the restaurant, but for the fact that her parents felt it necessary as their stage for the night. “—which i’m minutes from being on track to running late for. what’s up?” 

[saffiealbright]

hair still wet from an early morning shower, saf made her way down the hall. the sun had only just started peeking through the house’s windows an hour or so ago, streaming into the area like a hollywood set’s stage lighting. it made the girl’s eyes squint in protest, moving down the hallway towards JJ’s door. the motions were merely muscle memory at this point—a pre-determined routine setting she only had to flip on and select to get going. she’d walked the same steps down the same little route countless times before, after all. still, only a handful of those times had she done so with similar intent. it stirred in her head like a dense fog as she walked, though her face remained impermeable. routine setting. her expression only shifted a somewhat discernible amount when she’d gotten close enough to his door to raise a hand and knock, knuckles meeting the wood in a slow, three-part thump. it only occurred to her then that he might not even be awake. it that were the case, though, perhaps she’d take it as some sort of sign—if sign could be weakly translated into an excuse to walk away before she could risk a blatant loss. although the thought was appealing and walking away much easier than saying the words that perched on her tongue like a stubborn cat, she waited on the other side of the door, all fiery tendrils, doll-like lips, and the cheap ‘JUST MARRIED’ t-shirt she’d grabbed from the top of her unpacked suitcase earlier. “hey,” she spoke up when the door started to open, moving to lean against the frame. “busy?” this early that wasn’t too likely, but maybe that was the joke. @joshua-buckley​

[saffiealbright]

upon her stumbling arrival, hastings house was unsurprisingly quiet. only saffie’s own footsteps, clunky and without any sense of rhythm, disrupted the silence of the entryway and primary living areas. even if she wanted to make the effort to quiet down—which, frankly, in this state she didn’t care to—she simply couldn’t. the arguably excess alcohol she’d consumed back at kincaid, in neve’s room, made any effort towards grace entirely wasted. she felt as though she were merely a puppet with some eager child yanking at the strings, her conscious somewhere in the back corner of her head shouting for something to steady herself against. this was the part of drinking she’d come to loathe, the part that prevented her from getting quite this drunk just about... ever. and sure, she’d waited it out at neve’s for a bit before walking home, but a thick fog still hung above her head and battled her thoughts and motor functions. a lack of control was something she wanted no part in, ever, now paying the price for wanting to quite literally drown out her thoughts in the first place.

once she’d retrieved a glass of water from the kitchen she approached the challenge that was climbing up the stairs. free hand grasping the railing, saf ascended hastings’ lavish staircase until she reached the second floor. most of the lights throughout the house were off, save for the soft glow that spilled out from the bottoms of some bedroom doors, but she knew the path. she’d walked it countless times. only this time she came to a slow as she neared her door, because someone was sitting in front of it. blinking a few times, she allowed the image to fully register before releasing a deep sigh. JJ, in all his unkempt post-party glory. his shirt was just as ruffled as it’d been back in the manor study, if not more so, and one suspender hung off of his shoulder, slack at his side. then there was the matter of his disheveled hair and—when had his tie gone missing? “don’t tell me you’ve been waiting here since people started leaving.” @joshua-buckley​

[saffiealbright]

saffie wasn’t afraid to admit it—she was practically the last person anyone would expect to participate in, let alone enjoy, dressing up for a themed party. she didn’t squeal at the grand reveal of what time period or film genre or obscure niche interest everyone would adhere to at the next grand society event. she didn’t engage in enthusiastic chatter about clever costume ideas. she did, however, always show up dressed to the nines. it garnered the same amusing shock and delight every single time. undead-ophelia-straight-from-the-water, sexed-up-jessie-from-toy-story—saf actually had a record of going a bit over the top and tonight proved no different. the girl was hardly recognizable from behind, every last strand of hair stripped of its standard deep red, thanks to weeks of allowing it to fade without upkeep. her usual wardrobe had been swapped out for something straight out of murder on the orient express—ankle boots for kitten heels, denim for an ivory pencil skirt and top, and a scarily authentic looking faux fur shawl. her practically platinum locks and pale skin blended into the mostly white ensemble, rich pops of brown and burgundy lips preventing her from looking like an ice queen drained of blood. a rather large part of her knew that if her parents, particularly her mother, saw her now they’d see the daughter they’d wished they raised. a vision of the seraphina albright they’d made predetermined plans for. but the countess was merely a character and there was a satisfaction that came in the temporariness of it all.

committing to the bit—because she may as well at this point—saf poised herself atop a lounge chair near the bar, an elbow resting on one arm as she sipped her drink. across from her was one of the many ‘detectives’ that roamed the manor, engaging her in an in-depth interrogation. but she remained poised and blasé, down to her fingertips. in character, she looked like a young woman with a few too many secrets. she looked like someone who would never reveal them. eyeline shifting, she spotted a familiar figure only a couple feet away. saf did a double take before leaning forward, breaking from the current conversation to reach out for one of his suspenders and tug. “excuse me,” she called, arm dropping back to the chair. “if you weren’t so well dressed, i’d mistake you for my boyfriend. he loves a good camera” @joshua-buckley​

[saffiealbright]

she’d gotten seven hours of sleep. seven hours before a steady and growing stream of light had started to intrude through the window. a shameless entrance, really, skirting around the blinds that hung over them. seven hours—and thirty-two minutes, actually—before the peeking sun had woken her up, slowly drawing her eyes open as if they were shades themselves. the length at which she’d been asleep likely wouldn’t faze another, save for the common groan and want for even more time, but it wasn’t exactly common that she was able to get that much. moreover, in JJ’s arms, as one glance down confirmed. one arm rested over the small of her waist, hand slack and hanging just in front of her torso. the other had ended up under her neck, the one crook it could probably find without risking a total loss of blood flow. without even quite checking, saf could tell that if she were to lean backwards even a couple inches the back of her head, refreshed red strands and all, would collide with his face. she must’ve drifted off, usually in need of some space before being able to succumb to sleep. then again, space hadn’t come in large abundance these last few days. not since halloween—or, more specifically, since the conversation that followed. the following morning proved to be rough, but she’d been able to remember the most important parts. and because they’d stuck with her, she’d stuck near JJ, just a bit more than usual. subtle, or so she thought, but something had clearly shifted. even if it were only really noticeable between the two of them.

it’d lead her to studying in his room last night, which apparently had lead to her drifting off. seamlessly, without waking up even once. now, aware and unable to keep still, she slowly began to slide out of bed. not rushing it was key, unless she wanted to wake him and become permanently entrapped in his absurdly long limbs. sometimes a nine inch height advantage felt like ninety. a couple minutes and some especially strategic movement later and she’d made it to the ground, gaze moving over his dresser and the knicks shirt that occupied the wall space above it. rubbing her eyes, she made her way around the other side of the bed, padding towards the desk, in search of her phone. reaching it, she waved a hand over it surface and the mess of stray papers and books that covered it—a textbook, magic, science and religion, and then something else she didn’t quite recognize. but it wasn’t the unfamiliar cover or title that’d caught her eye, so much as the few centimeters of a photograph that stuck out from the top. tucked in between the pages. without hesitation saf reached forward, taking the book into her hands and opening it. she flipped to the marked page and was instantly met with a show of red. she knew this photograph—it was her. anyone else might not have able to tell, but it was, her bare back and hair—splayed out on the very bed she’d just come from as though it were flowing underwater—in frame. she turned a few pages and there was another one, only this time she was outside, in the quad. a hand rose to seek out another when the image of JJ stirring met her peripherals. she wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he’d actually awoken the second she came to stand. “what’s this?” she asked after a few seconds, hardly looking up from the book. no apparent regard for good morning or giving him a few seconds to really shake sleep off. @joshua-buckley​