#thread: micah

[seneca-rolfe]

@abeyances ((closed starter for micah))

Seneca wouldn’t exactly have anyone to blame but herself if she suffered some sort of catastrophic injury on her aerial hoop or silks. She’d been pretty negligent to request much of the proper safety equipment like an adequate foam pad to practice over or even requesting help booking a rehearsal space from her employer. It was more likely than not her stubborn sense of pride that stopped her from even bothering to ask, or perhaps an overarching sense of abandon regarding her welfare. Micah probably would have said yes if she had asked, though she wasn’t sure of what Daniel would have said.

But foam mats and safety precautions were for amateurs, and the blonde’s hubris got in the way of admitting she was all in all pretty pedestrian on the silks. So she woke up and chose violence from what she found to be a suitable height of eight to ten feet in the air rather than the full twenty to thirty feet she likely would have been able to climb in the performance space granted to her for rehearsal. 

Her shoulders ached in a way that was vaguely familiar to her training days nearly a decade prior as she pulled herself up the two long swaths of silk, one of which was wrapped precariously around left foot. She needed to practice her drops. As thrilling as a mid air split or the suspension of her body could be, drops were what caught an audience’s breath in its chest, what built that tension before the satisfaction of a well executed stunt. And so far she sucked at them. Miserably. 

With a sudden burst of energy, she folded at the waist where she clung to the cloth midair, kicking her legs back so she was suspended head first with her body bent in a 90 degree angle. The back of her left knee curled around the fabric as her right straightened itself and the only thing in her eye line became the ends of the luxe purple clothe and the floor a dozen or so feet below her. Her left hand clung to the fabric near her left knee to stabilize her and her right hand attempted to wrap the ends of the silk around her back and around her other hip. Attempted. 

Before Seneca could so much as register she’d made a mistake, the world blurred. She barely remembered falling, quite the opposite of her usual cat-like self as she fell onto her back, her head bouncing back to him the floor slightly as well. The throbbing it brought about in her head was second only to the fact that her body’s impact with the floor had easily knocked the air out of her. She half gasped, half groaned as she made a feeble attempt to breathe in and sit back up. 

[seneca-rolfe]

Closed thread for Micah / @abeyances

Attempting to walk to Town Hall from her shitty apartment miles away probably wasn’t the best idea Seneca had ever had. And yet, there she was, arms pulled in tight to her side, wind whipping through her hair, bare hands tucked into her armpits in a futile attempt to soak up any scarce body heat, and feet absolutely numb by now. Then again, it wasn’t like she had too much choice. She didn’t have a car, and she wasn’t about to ask someone to pick her up. Not when she refused to let anyone know where she lived. It was a little difficult not to feel like God was punishing her for her general dishonesty and drug-dependent lifestyle. 

The very thought left her unable to resist the urge to check that her small stash of pills was still in her jacket pocket despite the frigid temperature that bit at the bare skin of her hands. They were still there, enough pills to get her through a couple days without spiraling or withdrawing. She hadn’t thought to pack much else that would have done her some good, like dry socks or an extra layer of clothing or a comb for her wind-tangled hair. Then again, she was wearing just about as much wam clothing as she had–a T-shirt, an old long sleeve, a crew neck sweatshirt, and a very thin coat that was meant to be her winter jacket, but really wasn’t suited for temperatures under fifty. No gloves, and a pair of cheap leggings over a pair of beat up casual boots–she was anything but dressed for the weather.

The sound of an approaching car caught her attention. It was coming from behind, which concerned her. She hugged her arms to herself tighter and turned to look over her shoulder, one of her feet slipping a bit in the deep slow. It caused her to stumble, but she ultimately didn’t lose her balance. Her brow furrowed against the headlights, and she felt a sense of relief when she realized the car was slowing down. Her cheeks ached from her smile and the freezing wind and snow as she recognized the car. “What’s up, Old Sport,” she greeted, hobbling toward the car in a slow, clunky pace that made it obvious she was so cold that even her joints ached.

[kashmalouf]

Closed starter for @abeyances Setting: Agnes Market, just before closing 

Kashir was familiar with exhausting days and high pressure situations, but somehow a half-day long shift at Agnes Market left him more exhausted than he had ever been in recent memory. He had moved to Islesbury to try and maintain some sense of anonymity, and he had given up more than he got in exchange. Now, he found himself bearing the brunt of multiple “Hey, aren’t you that guy from-”s and “It’s funny that your name Kashir sounds like what you’re doing--working as a cashier”s. And for what? A  job he was overqualified for and a one bedroom house that had been smaller than his entire apartment in the city?

Given he’d at least been cast on a reality TV show for home cooks, he felt his snobbish approach to food was at least somewhat warranted, but tonight he was too exhausted to really care. It wasn’t exactly the work itself that wore him out, but the weight of why he was there. That, and the fact that what he felt would just be mindless, distracting work did little but remind him of what he was missing out on. Even the idea of going home and boiling water for pasta sounded like more than he could cope with. Gone were the days of making his own pasta from scratch, customizing ice cream flavors from raw ingredients, meticulously flavoring and wrapping handmade dumplings  and then teaching families and community members how to do so on their own in his workshop after he’d mastered each technique himself. He tossed a pre-made sandwich that would likely taste like cardboard into his shopping basket and wondered if he would ever feel like himself again.

He avoided making contact with the other man in the frozen foods aisle. It surprised him that anyone was even in the store that late. He glanced at his phone and realized he should have locked the door eight minutes prior, but he didn’t care about the job enough to ask the man to leave. Instead, he trailed behind at a safe distance looking at the display he’d just spent however many hours of his life restocking with items like frozen corn dogs and cool whip and uncrustables. Ready to leave, there was only so much time to wait and hover around the ice cream section. 

The other fellow in the market seemed to sense Kash’s impatience behind him--not that he could leave the store until the customer had been rung up--and went to move out of his way. Kash stepped forward to grab his own selection from the freezer not realizing the man beside him was reaching for a carton as well. The same carton. Kash withdrew his hand as if the skin-to-skin contact had shocked him and mumbled, “Take it, it’s yours.” He might not have been so generous were he not still wearing his Agnes Market apron and required to check the man out. He stared back at the other flavors left in the cooler. There had been a shipping delay on Ben and Jerry’s, which explained why only the worst flavors were left behind: Cherry Garcia, non-dairy Coconut Seven Layer Bar, and two flavors meant for dogs that he was vehemently opposed to shelving near human food. His expression soured at the prospects of frozen treats leftover for him to choose from. 

[seneca-rolfe]

Closed started for @abeyances

It was unusual not to have a run in with Micah during a shift. Even when she came in to rehearse, ever since she’d fallen in front of him, Micah popping his head in to say hi to (and probably check that her spinal cord was intact) Seneca at one point or another felt like a given. A small part of her wondered if something was wrong, but she ignored that instinct. Micah had things together, way more than her, so she doubted anything could be wrong even if he had been a little lower energy lately. Instead, there was an air of self-satisfaction that she was the one who thought to say hello first.

The blonde rounded the corner to the corridor where Micah’s office was situated, an area she generally avoided because she found office spaces to be stuffy and boring, and rapped her knuckles against the man’s office door dramatically before swinging it open. “Your favorite employee reporting for a time-wasting visit,” she announced with a self-assuredness that she was in fact his favorite employee despite the fact she was likely the one who caused the most trouble. She sunk into a chair across from him and sat in it sideways so her back rested against one arm rest while she slung a leg over the other. 

Something was off with his expression, with the air in the room, but she only barely took this in as she unlocked her phone and started flicking through different apps. “Oh, don’t look so sad, I’m here to save you from your boredom. I know what’ll cheer you up! Let’s go into ole Dan’s office and mismatch all the caps on his fancy fountain pens,” she suggested. She had no idea if Dan used fountain pens, but it sounded like the sort of thing he’d be into. “I’ll take the fall if we get caught.” 

[swtdisasters]

starter for @electricsays

Moving away from her city and to this place had been the ultimate of all shocks. She didn’t care about the fact that it would be her sixth school in the past four years. She didn’t care that she was yet again forced away from the friends she made or boys she liked. She didn’t care that it meant packing up everything once she had finally gotten it all how she liked. No, what Shiloh cared about in this move was the fact that it was happening again despite the promises by her father and uncles. Each and everyone of them had found their way out of the service and back into civilian life. Her biological father being the last to do so. Their bar was running better than ever, her life starting to take the shape of that of a normal girl rather than a military brat, and they were all happy. Yet, the move still happened.

In exchange for the bar, her father purchased the diner in this new place. And slowly, all of the uncles she had grown up with were on board with the idea of moving. The crew was together and creating another new life. While Shiloh was forced to watch from the sidelines. However, it hadn’t been as terrible as she assumed. 

The reason being the group of rowdy kids the walked through the door just as she preceded to slip out of her apron. Generally, she didn’t let herself get too attached to things in the new places she stayed at. But it was impossible to resist this one. The wave haired boy had caught her eyes from the moment he walked through the door. “Try not to destroy the place” she called over to the group with an air of defiance about her. Shiloh didn’t care that she didn’t have many friends or was basically considered the weirdo in this new town. Maybe that was something that bugged the locals, they couldn’t get under her skin. “The other owner’s aren’t as friendly as me”, it was almost threatening. She flashed them an innocent smile, before pushing back out the door they came in by.