@tunne1vision - Tumblr Blog

glass skin and messy, slept-on waves / a hum against closed lips / a stack of heavily annotated plays on a bedside nightstand / swift movements and long, drawn-out gazes / 102 unread text messages / “i had a strange dream last night”

#fault.intro

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fracturedlcve

Soph let out an exhale as she moved to the couch and sat down. Z was sat on the floor right infront of the TV, lost in his own little world. "I think you are gonna want to sit for this one." She said with a dry laugh. Soph knew Romy wasn't involved in the MC business, and while she knew she could trust her sister, she didn't want to burden her with those type of problems. They were heavy. "Both." She said with a laugh. "Okay but this goes no where, well I told Jay about the recent bash stuff, but he doesn't know this wasn't the first time... and he doesn't know about.... Sal"

"When I bailed Bash out of jail for his little knife fight, we got into a bit of a fight. And I don't know where we crossed the line from screaming at eachother to then fucking... but that happened... while still screaming at each other." She let out another exhale, "And that was a mistake." There was no if ands or buts about it. "And I mean, we have hooked up several times since breaking up... Not sure I ever shared that because I'm damn right ashamed of that fact. I mean, how pathetic is it to be six months pregnant and fuck your baby daddy who wans nothig to do with the kid? Then there was like... every time Charlie and I broke up... but this time... it was different. I ca't keep going back to that piece of shit."

"God I feel like such a whore." She let out a dry laugh but she honestly felt like that, maybe it sank in after Bash told her she was 47 times while plowing her. "But I've also been sleeping with Bash but... it feels... different. Good different. More than just a fuck and that is bad."

tunne1vision

"soph, stop it," romy ordered quietly from her new spot on the couch, up against one of its arms. her tone remained low, but the words were filled out by a sibling-like sense of authority. "really. no one talks about my sister like that, not even her." she shifted in place to face her little sister more head-on, legs bending towards her until they were also atop the couch. a deep, slow breath then filled her lungs, leaving them in a short gust. this suddenly wasn't the sort of gossip session either of them were probably anticipating, fierce protection taking over. "freyja was the goddess of war and sex. and love. and she received half of all those who died in battle, neck-and-neck with odin. okay, no norseman dared fuck with her. that's you." romy's eyes widened for a beat before she seemed to slump back into her current baseline of hum-drum. "can't say what you've been doing with bash in particular is healthy, clearly it's fucked you in the head, but you aren't, like, dirty. you're just a person."

clwmarks

he had let her ramble. he had taken it as a sign of life, more than anything. or rather, a sign of her trying to cope. to fill silences where they were unfamiliar, where they let one wander away too much with one's thoughts. he understood it, even if he tried not to indulge it -- when yujin rambled, he tended to say the wrong thing. romy rattled off explanations with the same intonation she had once used to explain maths homework to him. he wondered if she realised, if she was living close enough to her words in that moment to see -- they were walking around town in a way that almost felt familiar. and almost, in this sense, was a tragedy in and of itself.

"yeah, i have a cat. i don't understand why people keep being surprised when i mention this--" so sure, he was playing a bit of a role, but he considered he was just doing his part in giving her a response that was a bit more lively than his usual. as if to make up for it, to make up for how hollow she had seemed before. maybe this was his way of filling the silence. "i call her blue for short," he said, nodded. none of this took away from the fact that his cat was called princess blueberry sprinkles. "look, i didn't name her. she came to me with the name." which was.. sort of true, in that he had asked his daughter to name the cat when it had only been a hypothetical idea, and the name had been established before he'd even found a cat to fit. "it just suits her, is all."

tunne1vision

it wasn't so much his having a cat that'd caught her by surprise, despite her plainly specific phrasing. it was more so that he had a pet in general. what with the way he handled glasses behind a bar, romy simply couldn't imagine him giving a creature a bath or clipping their nails. it was a nice surprise, though; a thought that momentarily eclipsed the gruesome thoughts that'd been occupying her mind.

"blue," romy murmured after yujin's explanation, feeling the nickname out, not questioning the cat's origins or silly name further. a small nod paired with the word and her chin tilted a few degrees. "i look forward to putting a... whiskery face to the name."

some time later, romy noticed yujin's gate slow, what she consider to be a telltale sign that they were nearing his place. what a fascinating, unforeseen path her day had taken. clearing her throat, she, too, slowed until her feet came to a complete stop. "thanks," she started abruptly before they could step inside. she could still hear the rough edge in her voice and pushed herself to speak a little louder. "for the invite, the distraction. i know this isn't, like, your ideal day, but i appreciate it. probably need it. so, i'm taking advantage."

#thinking we can wrap just before the event with this or yours!

vieneri

Claire Danes as Juliet Capulet

How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore?

ROMEO + JULIET 1996 | dir. baz luhrmann

#muse #tw long post

echosnoir

nico had barely moved since she'd called him. while romy paced grooves into the floorboards of her apartment, he sat hunched over the table with a map spread out in front of him, one hand pressed against his mouth as his eyes traced routes and locations that probably meant nothing and everything all at once. every now and then he'd mark something down, circle a spot, stare at it until the lines blurred together. he wasn't even sure what he was looking for anymore. a pattern. a mistake. a clue. something. because surely people didn't just keep dying for no reason. surely there was something they were all missing.

the worst part was that nico knew people. that had always been his thing. he knew who was sleeping with who, who hated who, who owed money, who was keeping secrets they thought nobody else noticed. he knew how to listen. how to get people talking. how to make them comfortable enough to slip up. and lately? he'd stopped paying attention. he'd gotten comfortable. wrapped up in his own life. his friends. his problems. he'd stopped collecting the little pieces of information he used to gather without even trying. and now dario was dead. maybe it wouldn't have changed anything. maybe it wouldn't have saved him. but sitting there now, nico couldn't stop wondering if he'd missed something. if he'd heard a conversation weeks ago and forgotten it. if he'd brushed off a rumor that should've mattered. if he would've been around more would've he picked something that could've prevented another life taken? maybe. maybe not. nico would never left, and like many others, he was left with nothing but the 'what ifs'.

romy's voice finally cut through the noise in his head and his eyes slowly lifted from the map. for a moment he just looked at her. really looked at her. the grief. the anger. the exhaustion. he knew she was hurting more than she was saying. he'd seen her and dario together at the salty splatoon enough times to know they moved like people who trusted each other completely. like coworkers who'd become family somewhere along the way. after everything romy had just gone through...nico's soul ached for her and everyone else just as affected. “because nobody’s talking,” he answered finally, voice quieter than he intended. tired. frustrated. “or if they are, they’re talking to the wrong people.” his gaze drifted back toward the map for a second before returning to her.

“everybody keeps waiting for the cops to figure it out. or the feds. or whoever the hell else is involved. meanwhile half this town is sitting on secrets.” he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed heavily. “i'm tired of looking at everyone i care about and wondering who’s next.” the words came out before he could stop them. “you, eddy, soph, uncle zahir, sav, cassie, jules. everyone i care for.” he swallowed hard. “because that’s where my head goes now every time somebody dies.” for the first time since he’d arrived, nico pushed away from the table and stood. he crossed the room in a few strides before stopping in front of his sister. not blocking her pacing if she wanted to keep moving, just making himself available.

“i don’t know how it keeps happening,” he admitted softly. “but i’m done sitting around waiting for somebody else to figure it out.” his eyes drifted briefly back to the map. “the only thing is,” his gaze returned to hers. “i don't want to hurt you more, romy. if we do this...we're going to have to retrace steps. there might be something that was missed. some symbol marked behind something, an item forgotten by mistake, something, anything. when we talk to people now, we aren't just talking to them for the sake of it, we have to dissect every single thing they say. store it in the back of our minds and replay it until our ears bleed. if we do this, you promise to tell me when you need a break?"

tunne1vision

because nobdoy's talking. when nico said something of that nature, romy knew it to be true. she'd never outright asked him how he knew the details he'd fed her here and there for years and years; who was hooking up in high school and what gifts their parents were planning on getting them for the holidays. something about speaking about it felt like too much, like aiming a flashlight towards something interesting and immediately scaring it off. but she'd made her own little comments about how smart she knew him to be, how aware. the fact that he had nothing, which meant there was nothing to have, drew her mouth into a frown. everyone was tightening up, keeping things closer to the vest than usual. it didn't come off safe and protective, though. it came off like the rising action before a large miscommunication, a large-scale climax.

her brother listed loved ones and one caught in romy's throat. sav. a memory of her delivering the grim, horrible news flashed behind her eyes. more instinct than action, she reached out and placed a hand on nico's shoulder. commiserative. she could feel his desire to act before he spoke on it, just as she knew he could feel her agreement before she gave it words. the automatic 'we' ran through them both, a reassurance.

"promise," she repeated with a nod, allowing the anger that'd come to fill her body and, at least temporarily, overshadow the sadness drive her decision. anger wasn't always a negative thing. anger could pave the way for retribution or justice. "i should tell you, then," romy began again, arm dropping back at her side before she made her way to the couch and sat down. "i talked to antonio. santoro. he wanted to know what i saw when i found his sister." she spoke casually enough, just informing him, but nonetheless chose her words wisely. they defended her decision to meet up with him without having to outright say it. his sister. her eyes gazed off towards the wall across from her. "he was so adamant the riders must've had something to do with it. which is it's own problem, but walk with me. he was..." both hands rose in front of her, as though trying to grasp at something flying a foot out from her face, "confused. he knew it didn't add up. he said it was like someone was trying to start a war. frantic. unraveling with grief, but processing like a computer. short circuiting." the sparse details spoken aloud, scattered and short, sounded more like a psychic reading the vibes from their crystal ball than an informed individual. it didn't stop her. "i think he's as lost as we are. as anyone is. it doesn't mean someone over there isn't responsible for miles, and it isn't a place to start, but it's something to consider."

asinsilkytragedy

Asena’s hand remained settled comfortably at her waist, guiding her easily through the rhythm while her gaze lingered shamelessly on the woman in front of her. Romy was beautiful. That had never been the problem. The problem was that she was clever enough to keep things interesting and charming enough to make Asena come back for more whenever their paths crossed. The kittenish expression she received in return almost made her laugh. There it was. That challenge. That invitation to chase. Asena had always suspected Romy knew exactly what she was doing. She closed the little distance that had formed between them without hesitation, one hand sliding slightly higher along her side as she leaned close enough for her lips to brush lightly against the shell of Romy’s ear. “You’re awfully demanding tonight,” she murmured smoothly, amusement threading through every word. Asena felt the firmer grip at her shoulder and smiled to herself. Good. She liked knowing Romy did not want her wandering off either. Pulling back just enough to meet her eyes again, Asena allowed herself a longer look. One that traveled over her face with open appreciation. “Fine,” she conceded after a beat, her smile growing softer despite herself. “You were on my mind.” The admission came easier than she expected. Maybe because it was true. Maybe because Romy had already admitted missing her first. “Happy?” she asked lightly, thumb tracing a slow arc against her side as they continued moving together. Then her head tilted slightly, dark eyes bright with playful challenge. “Though if we’re being honest, I think we both know I’m usually the one doing the chasing. You seem to enjoy making me work for it.”

tunne1vision

'demanding' wasn't a descriptor romy was unfamiliar with. she knew what she liked, wasn't afraid to ask for it. clothes mouths never made out with hot women and all. that said, if she were in the talking mood, she'd argue that asena didn't go any easier on her. their relationship had always been push and pull, whether that was physical or metaphorical. for example, asena deployed the audacity to call romy demanding, the chased, while also moving next to her and holding her like that. her work was perhaps a little bit less frank, more polished and slick, but the blonde knew it well.

"would it make you feel better if I put in some work?" romy nearly pouted, "i can do work." with that, her hand moved to gently slide upward and hold the space at the back of her jaw, under her ear. with little warning (though, was any warranted at this point) she then kissed her, the approach hurried, but kiss itself drawn out.

#rip her wlw gifs probably aren't even filmed yet

saltandstatic

zahir doesn’t leave her side once. not during the statement, not during the followup questions, not when another officer gently repeats something she’s already answered twice because procedure demanded it. he stays nearby, arms folded across his chest, occasionally catching her eye and giving the smallest nod whenever she starts looking overwhelmed. he knows exactly how this works. he knows how easy it is for witnesses to feel like evidence instead of people. and god, romy was just a kid as far as he was concerned, no matter how old she actually was. she never should’ve been standing in an alley at four in the morning giving a statement about a murder scene. when the officers finally release her, he watches the exhaustion settle over her like a physical weight. the adrenaline was burning off now. the second she asks if he can drive her home, his expression softens immediately. “yeah,” he says quietly, like there was never going to be another answer. “of course i can.” he steps closer, resting a hand briefly against her shoulder. “i’ve got you.”

the walk back to his truck is slow yet deliberate. zahir keeps himself positioned between her and the crime scene without even thinking about it, blocking the flashing lights and movement of investigators as best he can. he opens the passenger door for her and waits until she’s settled before helping pull the seatbelt across and clicking it into place. only then does he close the door and round the front of the truck. once behind the wheel, he starts the engine but doesn’t immediately pull away. instead, one hand settles on the steering wheel while the other rests open on the center console between them, close enough if she needs something to hold onto. “you did good tonight,” he says after a moment, voice low and steady as he finally eases the truck into drive. “i know it doesn’t feel like it, but you did exactly what you were supposed to do.” his eyes stay on the road, though he glances toward her every few seconds anyway, protective instincts refusing to settle. “and when we get home, you’re not thinking about any of this anymore tonight. you’re gonna drink some water, maybe eat something if you can stomach it, and then you’re gonna sleep.” a small pause follows before he adds more gently, “the rest of it can wait until morning. let me carry it for a few hours.” because romy didn’t deserve to be tangled up in the violence swallowing rift valley whole, and if zahir had his way, she never would be again.

tunne1vision

it was too easy to fall into the role of the taken care of. intently lead, cleverly blocked, even the little tasks like opening the passenger side door and securing her seatbelt taken care of without a word. depending on the circumstances, romy was far more likely to make a teasing comment—if not outright refuse—than let it happen. she'd always been independent, in her ways. you had to be when you chose a path so outside of everyone you grew up around. now, though, there was no protest, just the small thud as her forehead met the window.

at first, romy didn't notice his hand. in fact, her eyes had closed for a few seconds before the sound of zahir's voice softly filled the car. even then, she'd stayed put, slumped over like a child headed home after a long day at the amusement park. it was only when his words had drawn towards a suspected close that she turned to look over at him and saw the gesture. the latest in a series of life rafts. romy may have been thrown into shock, but she'd registered each offering—his jacket, his reassurances, his showing up as quickly as possible. these things wouldn't go forgotten. the words weren't there then, outside of a meek thank you, but she'd gather them soon enough.

placing her hand in his caused another lump to rise in her throat. how lucky she was to have her family. the coles were something of a collection of misfit toys, but they loved one-another with a ferocity that rivaled pack animals.

#wrap here or w yours maybe?

savsgreco

it had been quite the whirlwind of a shift at the peach pitt tonight, down a few of their typical girls so savannah found herself more busier than usual. after texting romy earlier in the evening, there had been a lingering sense of anxiety over what she wanted to bring up. what was so important that she felt the need to tell her in person? she was attempting to push any negative thoughts in the back of her mind, trying to throw herself into dancer mode even though she knew she was off her regular game. that reflected in her less than savory earnings for the evening.

walking out of the building, she heard the familiar voice of romy in the distance. taking a few steps, she keeps a bit of distance between the other girl. "hi," she mutters out. "so, what did you need to tell me?"

tunne1vision

there was no use in not cutting to the chase, however tempting it was to continue to let sav live in this moment—this unaware existence—for at least a few minutes longer. delaying the grief, though, would be cruel in its own way. romy got the feeling, in their spare few meetings, that sav, too, was the kind of person that just wanted to know things. the important things, anyway. no stalling, no bullshit.

for a moment she considered trying to usher the other into her car. they didn't need to do this here, in the parking lot, in front of security. but sav's stance was firm and the seconds were ticking by. "dario," romy managed to say after a couple long seconds, his name practically a squeak by the time it lifted from her tongue. "he, uh—" she sniffled and took a step forward, chin angling off to the side and gaze landing elsewhere until she settled into place. "he was attacked." her eyes cut back to sav's, her head shook. "he didn't make it."

#tw death mention

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fracturedlcve

Zak nodded his head before running over to the stack of movies. He flipped through before picking one and loaded it into the DVR. Not all technology around the shop and their home was advanced, so he knew his way around DVDs and VHS tapes. Soph, on the other hand, kept her eyes on her sister while the sounds of Madagascar started playing from the living room.

"Ro, I'm so sorry." She said with an exhale. "Honestly, I'd like it if you did take a class, or hell, I can teach you. We can go down to the gym, and we can throw a few punches. You remember how good I was at boxing and wrestling." He was her fathers first born son in a way. But that was also why Damian had heart eyes for Romy, his other little girl, who loved little girl things. He was the kind of dad who leaned into all of his children's interests.

Soph followed her sister and put the bags down, "Me? I'm... I'm okay." She said with an exhale. "I kinda fucked up some, but I think it's settled out now. But I don't think you want to hear about my baby daddy drama."

tunne1vision

her sister's offer brought something tender to the muscles around romy's eyes. she did remember how soph had a sharpened skill for physical defense; how she could throw a punch and block a hit, while romy had insisted she could disarm a man with only her words. a sharp wit and confident tone, she was now confronting, couldn't protect your vital organs. an actual, physical shield they were not.

soph then answered her question and something swelled in romy's chest. while her heartrate was known to pickup at the mention of drama or gossip, this wasn't the delightful jolt of a nosy desire to know all. it felt like relief, like closeness. like a brick in the wall that'd gone up between them had fallen away. sure, romy had more so meant to angle her question towards club things—how soph was handling the string of violence, how the group had reacted to another death, if it weighed on her—but she'd take what she could get. she'd lean into what she was good for. in a voice even more hushed than before, she prompted with raised brows, "fucked up or just fucked?" with charlie finally, hopefully, out of the picture, it wasn't the most out of pocket question to ask.

saltandstatic

antonio did not interrupt her once. not while she spoke about the alley. not while she described the silence. not while she carefully walked him through the way josephina had been left there. he simply listened, elbows resting against his knees at first, one hand covering his mouth while his dark eyes stayed fixed on romy with unnerving intensity. but the more details she gave him, the more something in him visibly began to splinter. because none of it made sense. not fully. not in the neat way his mind desperately wanted it to. he knew the rift riders had something to do with this somehow. they had to. too much blood had been spilled lately for it not to circle back to them eventually. miles dead. daisy reynolds dead. josephina taken and murdered. yet every angle he tried to force together in his head kept collapsing into contradiction. by the time romy described the knife left behind and josephina crumpled against the wall, antonio’s grip tightened hard enough around the whiskey glass in his hand that the crystal cracked audibly. the sharp sound split through the suite before silence swallowed it again. antonio stared down at the fractured glass for a moment like he had not realized what he’d done before abruptly standing to his feet. “no,” he muttered under his breath, pacing immediately. “no, that doesn’t…” one hand dragged through his hair roughly while the other still held the damaged glass carelessly at his side. his movements lacked their usual precision now. grief making him sloppy in ways he hated. “if this was retaliation, it’s messy,” he said more to himself than to romy. “too messy.” his jaw flexed hard. “the riders don’t gain anything from dumping her body there unless they wanted her found quickly, but then why leave her hidden halfway into the alley?” another turn across the room. “and the knife.” his voice sharpened suddenly. “why leave the fucking knife?” the words cracked louder this time, frustration ricocheting off the walls. because antonio could usually see the shape of violence before anyone else could. motive. strategy. consequence. but this? this felt wrong in his hands. like trying to solve a puzzle with missing pieces. he stopped pacing only long enough to slam the cracked whiskey glass down onto the nearby bar cart hard enough to rattle the bottles there. “someone wants us looking at each other,” he muttered darkly. “and i don’t know if that’s because one side truly did this or because someone wants a war badly enough to manufacture one.” his breathing had gone uneven now though he clearly fought to steady it. then romy mentioned josephina’s eyes being open and something in antonio physically faltered. his shoulders stiffened hard beneath his suit jacket before he turned away from her completely, one hand braced against the edge of the desk. “she hated dark alleys,” he said suddenly, voice rougher now. quieter too. dangerous in an entirely different way. “when she was younger she used to call me to walk her to her car after parties because she swore someone was always hiding somewhere.” a humorless breath escaped him then. “i used to tease her for it.” silence stretched after that before antonio’s head dipped briefly, fingers tightening against the desk edge hard enough his knuckles whitened. irrational thoughts kept clawing at him now. that he should have seen this coming. that he should have protected her better. that somewhere between being a brother and being a don he had failed at both. when he finally looked back at romy, there was something raw sitting behind his eyes now. not weakness exactly. but the visible strain of a man trying very hard not to come apart in front of someone tied to a family he did not trust.

tunne1vision

cassandra and apollo sat in that hotel room sitting space, the world in their laps and yet entirely out of reach. the former told her tale, wielding her knowledge and power of intuition, despite all of the anger and confusion that could cloud the mind. the latter, all but donning his laurel wreath, splintered glass and refused to so easily believe. he'd always been representative of rational thought and disciplined poise, after all.

only, what antonio voiced wasn't rational. perhaps there'd been reason to believe it was before, but given all recent context, romy was surprised to have his rigid protests meet her ears. retaliation, the riders. she watched him move about, now on his feet, and her jaw tensed at the outright blame. still, no other part of her flinched, even as that broken glass met the bar with a forceful thud. it was actually a relief to see him react, a clear sign of humanity. antonio wasn't a god and romy wasn't a cursed oracle, as much as they might, at times, feel like that was the case. they were so fallibly human.

it was that fact that struck her most of all when he spoke of his sister and their shared memory from younger years; when he turned to face her, the bearer of grim news, again. not his reputation that she'd glimpsed over the years. sadness pulled his muscles taut, flashed wildly in his gaze. a refusal to unravel and a body that wouldn't listen. romy drew a deep breath and held his stare for a couple seconds, a tear skimming her cheek she didn't move to wipe away. she'd thought to voice a retort against his suspicions; the clear rivalry stubbornness that was blocking, from her standpoint, sensible thought. now, instead, "seems a silly thing to tease her for." a frank statement delivered in a soft tone. too conversational to be chastising, but nonetheless honest, with or without recent events.

romy, at her core, wasn't what anyone would describe as soft. there was a deep, dark well of emotion that stirred just beneath her skin, but it was far more torrential than timid. perceptive and naively headstrong. still, both elements brought her to her feet, then a step in antonio's direction, then another. she didn't approach him as though he was an injured coyote that'd wondered into her yard, cautious and having to convince him she wasn't a threat. nor did she move with reverence reserved for a god. when her arms wrapped around his neck in am embrace it was with a sort of plainness she figured had to be rare for someone in his position. plain understanding, plain relatability. a yeah, this fucking sucks and it can just suck for a minute without needing to be picked apart sensibility. when was the last time he could relate to someone over anything? had he chosen or been set down a path that made grief and strife and vendettas the only vehicle for it? had her own sister, soph, recently been set down it, too?

he could shove her away or stab her in the back with the bar mixing spoon and she wouldn't regret the action she'd taken. even if there might be consequences of her own to come.

who: sav x romy (@savsgreco) where: outside the peach pit

in fairness, sav had told her she could stop by later—with a decently specific window of time and everything. what sav probably didn't expect—couldn't yet—was that romy had immediately stormed out of her apartment and into her car, a sense of right and wrong steering her actions. she needed to tell her in person, hopefully before any text messages or news reports could do so, the cold blue light of a screen a cruel messenger. so impersonal. they weren't close, sure, but romy had felt the potential for friendship in their last seeing one-another. more importantly than that, they'd both loved him. dario. and the burden of love—the responsibility of it—came in the looking after one-another when that mutual object of love was gone. romy had been sitting in her car for some time, without a doubt raising alarm with the door person, when sav finally emerged. before she could stop herself, she was climbing out, tear-stained cheeks cold when met with the late night air. "hey," she called out, voice lacking a sturdy foundation, "sav! over here."

#sav

romy at rift valley's summer kickoff festival

silky white top with matching scarf, low-rise baggy dark denim jeans, silver jewelry, motorcycle boots, natural curly/wavy hair. barely-there makeup

#fault.event #edit #wardrobe #ngl she sort of said 'here damn'#and even then she needs to add a touch of romance

savsgreco

sav: um, yeah

sav: .... what is it? i really need to get going tbh

tunne1vision

romy: i'll just tell you later romy: don't worry about it

#D:

savsgreco

sav: i’m at the club … just wanted to send you a quick text?

sav: … what do you mean

tunne1vision

romy: are you about to go on or something? romy: there's something i should probably tell you

savsgreco

text: sav + romy.

sav: hey, are you and dario working this weekend for karaoke night? i finally picked a song so you'll see me there >:)

tunne1vision

romy: sav, hey romy: no, neither of us will be working this weekend. idk if anyone's working this weekend. romy: [several seconds of typing and erasing] romy: where are you rn?

#sav #:(

who: vinny x romy (@echosnoir) when: post-news breaking about dario's and bri's attack where: gym parking lot

she'd known she was in a tailspin—knew it right at that very moment, like the constant whir of working machinery—but the thing about a tailspin was that the only thing that felt good amidst one was giving into it. pushing it further, crashing out in the moments between initial engine failure and eventual collision. there had to be a big enough outlet, a distraction encompassing enough to lapse over everything. she'd tapped the message out in a flurry of groundless thought, alice in wonderland falling down the ever-growing rabbit hole. romy: hey. you've mentioned something like an underground fight club or something some time ago, in passing, idk. is there an address? i've been doing self defense, could use the practice. and if i'm no good, a few socks to the face would be a welcome distraction from the gaping hole in my chest. anyway. vinny: [address] without pause to think it through, romy had tapped the address and drove where it lead her without consideration or concern. if she had stopped to think, she likely would've figured out what'd happen before she found herself parked in the front row of the gym parking lot. then again, it was likely that she did know, the entire time, but had shot headlong into the cry for help anyway. as inconsiderate and reckless as she was already acting, what else was there to do? where else was there to run? "do you think this is funny?" romy called out to him once she'd left her car. her footsteps began carrying her towards him with anger-fueled speed. "or—or is this like a the rest of your path is on foot sort of thing?" her annoyance simmered at the surface, but just below it was a tangible well of despair. she couldn't see past it enough to consider how it might've reflected back at her from vinny's own posture or the look on his face.

#vinny #tw violence mention

who: nico x romy (@echosnoir) when: post-news breaking about dario's and bri's attack where: romy's apartment

for an uncertain amount of time, romy had been pacing the length of her apartment. entryway, kitchen, living room, bedroom, living room, kitchen, entryway, kitchen, living room... she was fully aware that she couldn't fully process the entire weight of the news. wouldn't be able to, probably, until the next time she went into work and dario wasn't there. fuck. she hadn't even gone back to work yet—not since josephina. the sick and twisted actions of some unknown assailant hadn't been mapped out with her suffering as the underlying X-marks-the-spot, she was sure, but nonetheless the cruelty had managed to once again, in quick succession, pull the world out from under her feet. every so often the wind, too, got newly knocked out of her, a fresh wave of a sob wracking her ribs from inside out. it was a wonder she'd, once again, been able to locate her phone and throw out a lifeline. a message in a bottle. a burning SOS. because there in the space with her, just letting her move as she needed to, was her brother nico. after one of many laps, romy came to an abrupt halt in his general area, though her eyes settled off somewhere over by the fridge. "how the fuck does this keep happening?" she hissed. she knew he didn't have the answers, but the question also was nowhere near rhetorical. "we have—we have not one, but three groups of people trying to lock this down and not one has any fucking clue what they're doing."

#nico #tw murder mention

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