#w.threads

[containatrocity]

"Ah, nah, we got this one covered, Little Red- head out, have some fun, Sissy and I are gonna hang out here for a bit, maybe carve some pumpkins. If we see your dad headed your way-"

"Just start screaming. a task you are uniquely prepared for- metalcore, kaiju movie, disappointed japanese father- you got options, Slenderman." Cyan laughs and rolls his eyes, bending and pulling Wren into a tight hug, Wren parting to hug Sissy all the same before departing the duo. It's while she's eating a piece of pumpkin pie, sat on the end of a picnic table that she spots a familiar face not currently invested in running interference against her father seeing her dressed- like this. "Hey Declan!" She greets, sitting her empty plate aside and wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb before waving him over. "You havin' fun tonight?" She's enjoying the freedom, distracted only for a moment to clear pie crust crumbs from between her boobs. "Ugh. that's annoying."

@ambercast

[containatrocity]

"I mean I'd love to stick around, really but I gotta go get Robin from the radio station in a couple hours an' I kinda wanted to take a little time to myself. And I'm actually lying, because I've never once wanted to stay here longer than I have to. I'll catch you tomorrow." Wren's quick to throw her bag over her shoulder, leaving the staff-only area of Food Market with a short wave to her coworker. She's already got her phone in hand the moment she sets foot on the sidewalk, scrolling through menus of her work schedule, alarms set to remember when to get Robin, when to meet up with their dad at the station- or where he'd be, if not actively working. She's absorbed in the realization that Duck's due for a fishing trip- which means she and her brother are bound to be in the house alone together until sun-down. "Dammit, dad." it's muttered, a sigh as she slams headlong into somebody walking the other way- phone skittering across the pavement and Wren stumbling backwards. "Oh- oh my God I'm sorry, are you okay!?" She questions, adjusting her bag on her shoulder again- suddenly aware of just how heavy it was. "I should have been looking where I was going."

Unbeknownst to Wren, of course, a concerning red splatter seems to spread from the pocket of her jeans, crimson and pooling where she'd made impact with the stranger. "Did I hurt you or anythin?!"

[containatrocity]

"Should have brought a bag, definitely should have brought a baaaag." Wren mutters under her breath, the keys to her dad's truck barely held in her mouth and an armload of groceries threatening to topple into the parking lot as she shuffles out the front doors. "Why do they have to ask for so much when I do snack runs? I don't even work there- they owe me for this one." She dumps the pile onto the passenger seat with a groan, one of the bottles of particularly sought after gatorade from a recent newcomer falling and rolling off down the lot. "Ah, shit."

She catches up with it just in time for it to roll to a stop in front of another young woman, sighing with relief. "Ah, thank God, I was sure I was gonna be chasin' it all the way to the radio station." She tilts her head slightly, then snaps her fingers. "Ah, you're Aiko, right? Cy's little sister? I'm Wren, we met at the uh, lake party where Hank went...." She lofts a hand upwards quickly, yanking it down before going. "Bloop." Then clears her throat. "Though, now that I say that out loud it feels a lot darker than I meant it to, for that to be the reminder of where we uh, where we met."

@curreres

[containatrocity]

"Nope! Not working today! Ask me your produce questions next tuesday from noon to six PM, because right now I am just here for- Oh! Hey Kira." It takes a moment, as she turns around, to realize exactly who's tapped her on the shoulder, clearly expecting an older person with questions about groceries who knew she worked there some days, she seems relieved, turning to find a former classmate and fellow 'huntsville for (almost) lifer'- a title worn for better or worse. "What's up? I'm just uh, grabbing snacks for band practice, I took away the guys' rights to bring them when Gabe turned up with a bag of baby carrots he had already eaten half of. If he'd just said he forgot that'd be one thing, but he was adamant that six baby carrots per person was a 'completely normal snack.'"

She adjusts her basket slightly, fluffing dark hair back into place. "Haven't bumped into you for a minute, that's my bad. Desperately trying to get my old man to let me work as a ranger full time, so I've been uh. sucking up. Yeah, I ain't even gonna lie about that one- How've you been?"

@ambercast

[containatrocity]

"....Was 'Paquerette' by With Confidence- I'm only hanging out with you a little while longer, Huntsville, and then you'll be back in KB's capable hands for the evening through morning. Remember to stay safe out there, folks. Leading us into my last block for the night, here's Fall Out Boy with The Phoenix. I've G Westfall, You've been you, let's stay that way." Wren groans, turning off the radio beside her and swinging her feet absently- she's sat at the edge of the hole, throwing pebbles down it and listening for... something. Maybe the bottom. "Stupid hole. Stupid Huntsville."

"Blocking my sunlight, there, friend." She chimes, as another person's frame shades the sun nearby, turning and tucking her sunglasses into her hair as she squints. "Oh. Hey Faith." She greets. "You here to throw rocks into Hell too?" She's not entirely sure what the hole is. Hell works, she figures. She'd clearly been out here a few hours, a pile of half-finished leather and scrap metal jewelry beside her and a packed lunch mostly eaten. "Dad told me I was bummin' him out, so I'm having a crack picnic." She reaches into her backpack, holding up a dried fruit roll. "Fruit roll up?"

@ambercast

[containatrocity]

"HAVE AT YOU!" There's a 'biff' sound, as Wren squawks, head smacked with the end of a pool noodle before she picks up a rubber band from the floor, pinging it at Cyan's face with enough skill that it plinks him in the eye, sending the man sprawling and dropping his 'weapon.' "Fuck! I'm hit! Go on without me!- Pass me a bottle too-" She laughs, grabbing a bottle of beer from the table and lowering it to the floor, Cyan's tattooed hand over one eye and the other dumping his drink into his mouth.

"Fucking dork." She snorts, moving away from the fray to grab something to snack on. She smiles, as she spots Declan near the kitchen, pulling him into a good-natured side hug and setting a kiss on his temple. "Hey big fella, you havin' fun?" She questions- she's been busy all night- the woman of the hour, after all- and it's not every day there's a party this big at the Romero place- fortified against any and all sorts of external chaos, it's a rarity she gets to let loose at home. But, she only turns 20 the once. "Ended up havin' a lot more people in than I thought. Maybe lettin' folk have a plus-one was a bad idea, I dunno where all'a us are gonna crash tonight."

@ambercast

[containatrocity]

"Draven! You made it!" She'd been making her 'thank you for coming' rounds, that much is clear, the living room full of people in their teens and 20s talking between themselves- Her father had left the house for the day, likely with his brothers or Claire, if she had to guess, Robin at a friend's house in order to free the Romero place up for an overnight party- He'd told her to just make sure the basement stayed locked, and that her and the band cleaned up at the end of the night. She'd nearly missed him, standing awkwardly among the more rowdy of her friends from the ranger crew and whatever Cyan and G were up to. "You can have fun too, you know, you know this house better'n most everybody else, after all." She reminds, elbowing him lightly. "You want a slice of cake? Me an' Sissy spent all night last night bakin' cakes and cookies and stuff for tonight, and then Daddy spent half the mornin' makin' sure we had enough food made that no 'drunk toddlers went fuckin' up my stove.'"

She giggles, slinging an arm around Draven's shoulders- her cheeks are red, likely a little drunk, a mason jar with dried flowers floating in pink liquor in her other hand. "It's a lil loud, ain't it!? You're still havin' a good time, right?"

@backmaskcd

[containatrocity]

"What doing." It's a sudden, short statement, not a question, from behind Rex as he's crouched over a hole. "What are you doing?" it comes again, a proper question this time, a little boy, no older than eight, standing nearby with a garden trowel in bright green muck boots, already covered in dirt and mud, his little camouflage jacket reading 'Romero' on the pocket stained and well-worn. "Are you digging? I didn't know grown ups dug for fun. Daddy says if I keep digging holes the groundhogs are gonna come find me." That doesn't seem to stop the kid, who sticks out one muddy little hand in greeting. "I'm Robin. Daddy says if you try to touch me bad I should scream." It's only a few moments of... unintentional babysitting, really, before a voice rings out in the distance.

"Robin!? Dammit... I look away for two seconds and- There you are." Another shock of bright red hair, braided into a single short plait bounds up- her jacket not far off from the boy's, though clearly proper military fatigues- "Romero" once more on the pocket. "Hi- sorry. He didn't like, do anything weird, did he? Or like... interrupt... What you're doing? What are you doing?" She questions herself, now, taking the trowel from the boy- presumably her brother. "Stop. Stealin'. Daddy's. Gardenin'. Equipment."

@backmaskcd