Mike Driver
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@wavesofpenn-blog
☎ ツ $
“☎” for a RUSHED text.
Penn: We still on for dinner? I’m running a little late so if you could order me a glass of cab sav I’d love you forever
“ツ” for an EXCITED text.
Penn: Who’s up for the quarter by 14%??Penn: This girl!!!
“$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Penn: Of course we’re close, she’s an investor.Penn: Don’t make it something it’s not.
⁇ $ ø
“⁇” for a DRUNK text.
Penn: did yuo like the wine???Penn: theres nore where that came from at my apartmentt
“ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.
Penn: Is that you across the bar? If it, you should come over here...Penn: Either you just left or that definitely wasn’t you.
“$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Penn: I was in fucking middle school when she was born. Let that sink in.
ø %
“ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.
Penn: It’s 11:30 and I’m in a bar surrounded by children.Penn: Is bad for me to say that I think you’re the only person right now who’s company I would enjoy?
“%” for a CURIOUS text.
Penn: Do you have a boyfriend?Penn: Can we just ignore that I sent that?
# $
“#” for a RANDOM text.
Penn: Can I still count on you for that drink?Penn: I’ll pay if i have to :P
“$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.
Penn: Dante it’s 9:30. I need confirmation that you can do your fucking job.
Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.
Brooke stared at her reflection in the three paneled department store mirror, a vaguely annoyed expression on her face. She’d tried on just under 10 dresses for Time Magazine’s promoting party that night, but not one of them had seemed to fall just right on her frame. Maybe it was the pimple starting to form at her temple. Her hair covered it, but the knowledge something as repulsive as a pimple was on her face could be throwing the whole look off. She let out an exasperated huff, aching to do something frivolous like forgo the party and spend a night dedicated to skincare instead.
But she couldn’t afford to miss an outing that gathered New York’s most important in one relatively small, romantically lit room- a little drunk, being buttered up by journalists, possibly taking advantage of the somewhat private location. If anything salacious happened that night, she would be the one to snap the photos and procure the blackmail - that seemed to be the only way to get things done nowadays.
Smoothing down the glossy, pale blue silk at her waist, Brooke turned on the toe of her Dior heels and examined her profile in the mirror. “I don’t look…frumpy, do I?” she asked, a little to herself, and a little to a nearby figure she caught in the corner of her eye. “Frumpy? Is that even a thing people say nowadays? Ugh.”
Timing was everything. At least in Penn’s world it seemed to be. Being at the right place at the right time was imperitive for keeping yourself out of the mud, and more importantly, it kept you alive. But seeing Brooke in the midst of trying on clothes seemed more like a good situation than anything. There were no large sums of money being traded, unless you took into account how much that dress actually cost, and Penn couldn’t help but ogle her from her vantage point behind hte clothes rack, if only for a moment.
That was until they made eye contact, prompting Penn so lean herself against the mirror, her eyes taking in the dress. “I don’t think things look frumpy on you- you’re not the type.” She raised her eyebrows. “But I think you’d look better in teal.”
Adam often clung to his youth as much as possible and nothing screamed youthful mischief than challenging himself with top notch security and locked doors. While rarely did any door remain locked for him these days, there was a certain someone whose reservations remained a challenge he loved to pursue.
Penn was less of a conquest and more like dessert after a meal and after his week long bender following the explosion, he figured he could use a sweet something the cleanse the palate (and maybe persuade along the way to butter Zeus up before the confrontation).
He stalked Penn like a lion through the Savannah, just a lurking shadow around every corner as he relished every flinch and tension in her shoulders at the fear of being watched. It was cruel and sick in a way as he slid from corridor to corridor, gauging her thorough caution after every door along the way to the exit with amusement but the thrill was worth the risk of blowing his month long ruse.
Turning the hallway to escape through another door, he followed the same procedures in locking up before he slipped out to cut a corner around the block where he met her in the middle of the road. Playing shocked (and relatively drunk) he gasped before (too) succinctly scooping up her purse.
“Ouch, darling. I would say I’m a little bit more like a troll than a Gremlin.” He smirked as he lifted her purse before offering her a hand. “Besides, you haven’t fed me yet and it’s barely past midnight.”
Seeing Hermes always seemed to be a mixed bag for Penn- there were days where she felt her heart beat a little fast and her palms got sweaty and he made hr nervous. But on the other hand there were moments where all she wanted to do was reach out and throttle his neck. This moment of fear held a combination of the two, and before she could do anything other than curse he was on the ground reaching for her bag.
She grabbed his offered hand and gave him a mixed smile with reproach and fondness, “You know one of these days you’re going to stumble across the wrong person, and they’re going to pummel you into a pulp- you should be thankful it’s only me this time.” She teased him before moving into be closer to him. "BArely pastmidnight, so it’s certainly not your bedtime yet.”
◤ ✧｡◦ ◢ ( | ❝ poseidon.
“Forgive me if this question is a tad too obvious,” he began, genuinely curious, “But locally to internationally seems quite far of a step. Wouldn’t nationally or even something smaller be possible? Or if you’re waiting for the matters concerning the Olympians to die down, which may not happen for a while, you could expand to simply the North American continent. Now, this may all be silly thoughts and opinions because I know very little about the manufacturing business. I suppose I’ve simply trusted you with it for so long that I haven’t found a reason to research.” Admittedly, he had very little room to speak about the matters of product manufacturing. He was simply a businessman with a business mindset, and every business was different, especially manufacturing and selling. Perhaps even she had expanded her business beyond locally and he was simply unaware, which would signal that they really did need to keep in better touch.
He had found it easy to divulge information to her, for it was only logical that she remained neutral in the war. If the information wove its way to Caiden through Penn, something that would be easily traceable, she was the one to suffer. There were other manufacturers, though perhaps not as good but with the additional income they could improve, and she would lose significant business. In fact it helped him by releasing it to her, for it further established decent communication. “It had to do with me in the sense that it was New Olympus’ doing, but it was not my order. I would not choose something so loud. Perhaps make it appear more accidental, as though it was someone else’s fault. Though I am glad it was none of your product and trust me, when I clean up the mess the room will not be restored to usual, instead it’ll be more to my liking.”
His interest was piqued when the actions of Old Olympus was brought into light. He leaned backwards in his chair, hands sliding down the edge of the lapels on his jacket. “Really? Sending his fiancé to do his dirty work, sounds like the Zeus we all know and love.” His head cocked slightly to the right as he casually continued, “Am I wrong to assume they simply are dying to have you pledge Old Olympus or at least control more of the product you make?”
“Technically we are actually a national company. We only have one set of offices, but our Headquarters is surprisingly large.DLC specializes in local projects, but our national accounts with Johnson and Johnson and a few others have more than given us the credentials. But since we’re based in New York certain financial investors think that an international move to the UK would be just as beneficial as moving out west.” She sipped her wine, grateful that Syrus actively took an interest in what she was doing. “They’ve been trying to talk me into a space in Montreal, so we’ll see what happens.”
Penn was happy to hear Syrus tell her the truth, or what she believed was the truth. She had no intentions of telling Caiden though anyone with a brain would know that New Olympus- but telling him would be a fucking headache for her and she was less than interested in being their mole. :Well, though not shocking, it’s good to hear it from you myself. It did seem a little- ostentatious for your usual style.” She walked the tightrope she did by specifically keeping to herself. Not too far on one side or the other. They had to work for they wanted- she wasn’t going to give it to them.
“Funnily enough... I don’t think he explicitly sent her- she seemed to be a woman very much on her own issue; the epitome of Hera, if you will. She swirled her wine, trying not to smirk into the glass as Hades peppered her with questions. He might act like the cool cat, but Penn knew that he was just as greedy as Zeus for her allegiance. “You’re not wrong, but you’re not necessarily right either. There have been talks, but I’ve seen no money and signed no contracts, so do the talks even matter at all?”
◤ ✧｡◦ ◢ ( | ❝ poseidon.
“Ah, yes, because my entire goal tonight was to see how many important people I can get inebriated,” he joked. Despite it being all in jest, the side effect of seeing some of the more prominent figures in his life intoxicated was surely entertaining. He admittedly was bound to have one drink before the night had ended, but because it was so essential that he remained as aware as possible, he would have the pleasure of seeing everyone else around him fall into the abyss of alcohol. “Well, the good wine is upstairs and I’d be happy to retrieve it for you. Wine is not our specialty, I must admit. Though disappointment and judgement is.” Upstairs referred to the living space he called his own above the club where he did have a few bottles of wine of his own at any given moment. He stepped closer to her as he replied, subtle joy settling on his expression, “Well, I haven’t heard any news of Old Olympus and word has it that we are securing quite a few new clients. But, the night is still young and I hope my people don’t grow too weary with their duties.”
Penn waved her hand dismissively. “You’re certainly not going to leave your party to get me wine. What I have here is plenty good, and it’s more important that you stay down here.” Even though she couldn’t promise either of them sole claim to her product, she genuinely did want to see them do well. Penn reached forward and grabbed Syrus’s forearm in a supportive grip. “I’m really happy for you, Syrus. Just keep your eyes open and make sure your team knows how important this is. I wouldn’t put it past anyone to try something.” She looked at the faces she didn’t recognize in the house and hoped for Syrus’s sake that he knew who he was dealing with. If Zeus really was Cronus’s protege, then Syrus had his work cut out for him.
“Good. I’ll keep that in mind, next time.” Caiden offered her a smile, deciding to drop the issue, but things were too damn unpredictable to leave things up to fate these days. Securing Penn was too important - losing her to Syrus would really mean the end of Old Olympus and although he never wanted to think about what that could mean for him, it was a reality he unfortunately had to face.
He stopped for a moment, face stone-cold in sudden confusion as Penelope mentioned Club Nyra. An unfamiliar feeling of his heat sinking – it was uncomfortable and his mood was close to becoming sour when he heard Penn laughing. “I see your sense of humor hasn’t gone away. How nice.” Caiden mumbled, though his tone said that he was less than impressed with her little joke. “O’Shaughnessy’s. I’m not sure I’m familiar with it but I trust your judgement.” He said, offering her his arm. “Despite what you might have heard, I’ve still got more money in my wallet than I know what to do with. Lead away, then.”
She’d toed too close to the end of her own rope with the Club Nyra joke. It was important that Penn remembered that she wasn’t actually irreplacable, as much as she pretended that she was. But what she thought had been funny came across as tasteless- if Caiden’s expression was anything to go by. “It’s in bad taste but it’s so rare that I actually get to make a joke these days.”
She slid her arm through his offered one and began leading him in the direction of the bar. The first block was walked in silence, which Penn actually liked. She had no fear when Caiden was with her, except for Caiden himself. It made it easy for her to eventually break the silence. “How are you doing- with everything? I know it’s still the early days but from what I’ve seen you’re thriving.” A bald faced lie. “Hera certainly seems confident enough.” A foolish truth.
In some ways he could see how it was easy to forget that, he too, was a part of the empire that Cronus had built around him. After all, he played no part in managing the business and could not even be called a member of the security team. His only job that his title fell into was getting rid of the people who had either gotten too close or had left a bad taste in someone’s mouth, he had no real reason to base his entire life and interactions with the people who were in Olympus. However, he had chosen to do so, thinking that it would be easier for a relationship to blossom if all his cards were laid bare on the table… Funny wrong he had been. “You’re content with spending the rest of your life alone?” His curiosity was evident in his tone, a sort of confusion and yearning to understand why she could be happy with something that he feared. He would never admit it, but the last thing he ever wanted to be was by himself. “I prefer the term ‘mark’, really.”
In any other circumstance, Dante would have been offended, felt a need to defend himself and put up a wall. In Penn’s company, it hardly mattered. She did not know him, did not know the things that he had done in order to keep his head above the waters that threatened to drown him. They were simply two acquaintances having a casual conversation before parting ways, something that he would gladly entertain until it was time to turn in and find someone to do it with. “Tell me, Penn, have you ever even attempted to venture out of your comfort zone? Have you ever taken some time away from your business to do something that you think is unconventional? It could be a lot of fun, you know.”
What Penn had a hard time explaining to people is, she actualy liked being alone. There were occaisonal fleeting moments where she wondered what it would be like to wake up by rolling into another body in her bed- but more of the time she thought herself lucky to be so unattached. How many people had she seen die? How many spouses left in bed suddenly too large for themselves. Penn knew herself as a big player, and she knew the chances of someone she loved being taken out were lower than the average henchmen, but they were still there. And that was enough to keep her away from other people. “If it’s my best means for survival- yes. I personally have enought at stake right now.” She didn’t need to add love to the equation.
But Dante’s words held merit, and as she sipped her wine she tried not to let it show that his inquisition was getting to her in a way she hadn’t expected. At no point did she think the hotheaded hitman actually cared enough to wonder. “I’m a scientist, Dante, not a daredevil. I don’t do uncalculated risk.” But fun... it sounded like a foreign concept that Penn was unfamiliar with after all this time. “Did you have anything specific in mind?”
kiss
It started with wine.
Didn’t it always start with wine?
But it had looked so good, rather she had looked so good. Penn could hardly be held accountable for the way she slid across the couch as Yasmin poured the rose colored liquid between her lips. It was erotic in a way Penelope failed to notice when there were flashing lights layered over the heart pounding bass line, and she needed her in a way that Penn barely needed anyone.
It was as easy as breathing, Penn would recount later, still breathless and dizzy from the scent of her floral perfume. It was the easiest thing in the world for Penn to remove the glass from Yasmin’s hand, placing it on the table without a second thought. It was the second easiest thing for her to replace the glass with her own fingers, sighing as they intangled themselves in Yasmin’s impossible small hands. The clear next step was for Penn to lean forward, ever so slightly covering the girl’s mouth with her own, the taste of wine on the tip of Penelope’s tongue. She held herself there for a moment, frozen in place, until she felt Yasmin relax underneath her.
Only after several heated moments more did she move back, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips.
“Delicious.”
Break
“Seriously? You’re not going to pick up?” muffled shifting “Fine, I can do this here. Fuck you, Syrus. Fuck you having the audacity to tell me how to think, how to feel. You honestly thought I’d be interested in his funeral? Listen up Syrus- Harvey Johnson was nothing but a waste of valuable oxygen in this city. He offered nothing to anyone except the burden of his precense. Not only am I not sad that he died, I am fucking thrilled. That man singlehandedly ruined my life, and I’m not going to wear black and pretend to give a shit that he’s in a casket when it’s all I’ve wanted for the last fifteen years. I’m not going to the funeral, I’m not giving a damn speech, and I’m certainly not going to honor his shitstain of a memory. When we find out who did this, tell me in fifteen years if you would go to their funeral. I’ll bet every dollar in my bank account that you’d dance on their fucking grave.” click
Drabbles meme 2
Send me one of these:
Greetings: And I will write our characters’ first ever meeting.
Kiss: My character will kiss yours.
Comfort: My character will hug yours.
Date: I will write an account of what would happen if our characters went on a date.
Truth: My character will tell you what they think of yours in all honesty.
Tender: I will write some sweet fluff between our characters.
Run!: I will write some action with our characters involved.
Scare: A nightmare my character has had about yours.
Break: My character will greatly upset yours.
Oops: I will write our characters getting into some trouble.
Morning: What my character would say if they woke up in bed next to yours.
AU: I will write an AU drabble with my character and yours.
Marry: My character will propose to yours.
Drafts: For unsent texts
Wine: For the drunken phone-call/text
Night: For the two am text/call
◤ ✧｡◦ ◢ ( | ❝ poseidon.
The night had been running smoothly, the only word heard from those working for him was the success of the night and the new promises to always buy from Club Nyra dealers. Syrus was calm, per usual, for his placid state was immutable and with the lack of news of Old Olympus infiltration, there was nothing to rile his mind. In fact, there were only pleasant surprises to be found within Club Nyra. The addition of Yasmin, the entertained guests, and as his eyes trailed the room, the sight of Penny.
He slowly wandered up to her position, a light smile on his lips as he spoke, “You’re drinking wine at a club. I’d be happy to buy you one of our specialty drinks if you want. I’d suggest a Styx if you’re looking to get drunk or Phlegethon if you like a kick in your drink.”
Syrus was a breath of fresh air to Penn, who far too often felt like she was merely surrounded by strangers or, if not strangers, people who far too often had the look of hunger in their eyes. “I’m sure you would love to load me down with a- What was it? River Styx?”She held up her glass and took a sip defiantly. “I’m playing the part of the party’s old maid- Wine in one hand, disappointment and judgement in the other.” She winked at him, watching as a nondescript young woman walked by and, by her observation, eyed Syrus with that aftormentioned hunger. “Seems like you’re the hero of the night though. Is everything going to your master plan?”
Mingling was what Maddox was the best at. It’s what he was paid to do, and even in instances that he wasn’t on the clock, it was almost second nature. He continued along through the groups of people, an easy smile on his face as he did so, holding his drink in his hand as he continued to move against the crowd. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, it seemed like Syrus truly did know how to throw a party - although that could easily have been something to be blamed on the liquor.
The alcohol that burned and reverberated in his chest left his limbs feeling loose and the smile on his face coming in an easy motion. He’d taken a couple steps, eyes scanning the room around him to see if there was anyone around that looked like they were worth chatting up - but as he noticed himself all but about to barrel into someone, he found himself backpedaling. “Fucking hell, sorry,” he laughed. “I didn’t - my drink didn’t spill on you, did I? God, I thought the beer goggles wouldn’t take effect for another couple drinks.”
He was cute but unfamiliar, which always had the tendency to put penn on edge. She moved back quickly, her drink sloshing partway out of it’s glass and thankfully only landing on the floor between them. She tried to laugh it off, the sound metallic to her own ears. “No harm, No foul-” She gave him a smirk “No bruise.” She took a sip from the now nearly empty glass. “It always seems to sneak up on you, doesn’t it? One minute you’re fine the next you’re on the dancefloor missing your pants and doing the Macarena.”
He had always walked the fine line between what the right thing to do was and the wrong thing, that concept that certainly fallen under what he considered business. His line of work came with killing: a clean cut underneath the chin, a bullet to the back of the skull, or even the seemingly accidental heart attack. However, his business? His business had to do with those he surrounded himself with, his business was ultimately protecting the legacy that Caiden was to leave and the ones he befriended. His business were the lost children of Neverland, strays that flocked to him from all sides for a place to feel like they finally belonged. Perhaps Penelope was right, however: mixing business and pleasure had not turned out so well when it came to Katrina. His smile faltered for a mere moment, eyes dimming slightly before rejuvenating itself once more. “When your business is your life, it could be hard not to do so.” Cocking a brow at the words he had strained to hear, the man shook his head. “I wouldn’t really consider those people my clientele, actually.”
Nights underground were often filled with boisterous laughter and quite a few more bruises to his body, whether they were from the various fights he got himself into or within the confines of his or someone else’s bedroom. Tonight was different, however, he had been filled with a yearning for something more. How he had expected to find it in a place like this, he didn’t know. “Are you implying that I don’t have standards in other parts?”
Ares’ words took Penn aback, not realizing that they applied very aptly to her life and the lives of many people in this business. There was no down time, or time tha was spent that wasn’t in some way related to this massive scheme that had ultimately become her life. “Perhaps that’s why I prefer to spend my nights alone.” The sad reality of her life, but to live a life of strangers walking in an out of her life, her bed, her.... heart. It was all a little too difficult for Penn to stomach, so she didn’t. Instead she simply drank wine, and more wine.....and then a little more. “perhaps it was a wrong choice of words.... Victim? Unlucky stranger?”
She’d bungled her words up, that was for sure. It wasn’t that she thought less of Dante, but that their lives were different. Maybe, beneath the layers of denial and hardened grime, she did consider her life better. Shed never say this, of course, but it was hard for her to understand the need for pulsing music and screaming crowds; she had no deire for slick strange bodies to press up against her. “If you want to take it that way. Perhaps I was speaking out of turn. I forget that not everyone feels the same way I do.”
