big mac

@xxxtrafries

your guiltiest pleasure

50 posts

tommie-dalton:

Tommie knew a hottie when she saw one, no denying that. Certainly not a local girl and she didn’t seem up her own ass quite enough to be a competitor- camera oporater? Jaded girlfriend of another crew member? The character who joined as part of a mid season plot twist? “Well I certainly won’t say it while I’m recording so you’ll never be able to prove it.” She pulled out her phone and swiped through to the voice recording app, but didn’t press any buttons just yet. Hey, she was a good judge of character and if this chick ended up being smart enough to see this show for the capitalist schmuck fest it really was Tommie wouldn’t mind voicing a few of her own unsvaory opinions about the whole thing, just to have someone to share them with.

Whoever she was if she was trying to be subtle when she checked Tommie out, she wasn’t. No skin off her back though honestly, she was more than used to a set of eyes on her. So Tommie didn’t rush when she slid her blazer down and off so she could set it over a spot on the hay bale before taking a seat- the material of her dress wasn’t super thick, she didn’t want to get poked at while she was sitting down. “I wish it was something interesting like that.” She sighed, “no, I host a segment on local radio and I’m going to be talking all about the show- latest updates, hot new gossip all that jazz. I just want a few cool sound bites for the first episode since there won’t be a whole lot to say just yet. So.”

Tommie turns the recorder on, and her radio voice too- a little higher in pitch than she is naturally, perkier and more melodic. “What do you think about Maize of Love settling down somewhere as small as St Cloud, will it be good for the locals?”

Cheeky and cute to boot, Mac’s favorite type. She had a particular soft spot for the nerdy ones, probably something to do with how fondly she remembered high school lockers. Though she hadn’t expected to hear that such a nerd (it didn’t matter how much of a babe she was, a dweeb was a dweeb) was little more than the local Perez Hilton. Not to mention the fact that it only took Mac a handful of seconds to realize that Farmer Selena Gomez had no idea who she was. (Not that she was offended or anything, she would never presume that every country bumpkin knew her name, but covering the sleazy lives of the rich and famous? That was Mac’s shit; how many more casinos did she have to trash before Podunk hotties started recognizing her?)

“Depends on your definition of good.” On one hand, this was a rare, romantic comedy opportunity to pretend that she wasn’t the manic pixie dream girl from hell. And on the other-- well, where was the fun in that?

“A film crew can be pretty disruptive, and you know those LA types. Vapid, self-centered, inconsiderate,” Mac waved her hand in the universal gesture of I could go on. “But we’re also most likely going to be the only interesting thing to blow through this town since the Great Flood.” She beamed, dimples and all, and leaned forward as if the recorder were a microphone. “You can quote me on that.”

This was one of the mot humiliating days of her life. Granted since returning to St Cloud she’d thought that quite a few times, but this day was shooting up to the top of the list. She didn’t begrudge her parents for needing her help, but she did begrudge this damn town for the closest thing to reporting being a local radio show. The most accurate thing any of the hosts talked about was the weather.

She’d have rather been the weather girl, honestly. At least that was dealing with facts; weather patterns and temperatures and what you could expect to see when you looked out the window. But no, her job was to ‘get the scoop’ on the hot new contestants flooding into town, as if anyone actually gave a single fuck.

Whatever, if she was going to do this she was going to do a damn good job. She’d been pacing up and down between Sunnyside meadows and the trailer park the production crew were staying in, hoping to catch a contestant or nosy local– honestly Tommie didn’t care who. She just needed some decent sound bites. “Hey!” She whistled sharply at the first person she saw, fixing a big bright smile on her face. “You got a minute to answer a few questions about Maize of Love? They’re all opinion based so I’m not allowed to tell you you’re wrong.”

Mac nearly kept on walking when she heard the whistle, immune to the catcalls and tacky come-ons that made up her day-to-day soundtrack in LA. But the voice that followed was unexpected enough to stop her in her tracks, glancing up to search for its owner until her gaze landed on a Camila Cabello knock-off in an outfit that Missourians probably thought was illegal. Hubba hubba.

“Sure, I’d be happy to help,” Mac said, sweet as saccharine as she approached. “Though I’m not sure if I believe that you won’t tell me I’m wrong just because you don’t have permission.” Step one: find out level of commitment to rule-following.

Mac beamed and walked a little further to drop down onto a hay bale (a literal bale of hay, what the fuck), leaving just enough room to be an invitation. “You the local paper?” She tilted her head and gave the other a long (longer than necessary) once-over. “Let me guess, it’s a podcast about the dichotomy between feminism and a genre that diminishes women to tits, tears, and a ticking clock.” That was a mistake Mac was never going to make again; she’d never been more bored in a recording studio.

A batch of hot, eccentric singles from around the world come together in middle-of-nowhere, Missouri for a crash course on what it means to live in a small town– and hopefully– settle down. These commitment-phobes who love a casual hook-up will have a chance to find love, break hearts, and… milk a cow? Despite the quaint gardens and ‘50s-style ice cream shops, the simple life doesn’t seem to be quite so simple.

As filming for Maize of Love begins, these city-slickers will have to assimilate and charm the overalls off the local farmers. Will the serial singletons be able to form deeper emotional connections? Or will the homegrown hotties choose a more… organic option? Tune in to find out if these bodacious babes find their match or get lost in the Maize of Love.

Maize of Love is a literate skeleton RP. We’re looking for new members to join our active and inclusive group. Original characters welcome. Come check us out!

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tommie-dalton‌:

It was never not going to be funny to freak people out by speaking when they couldn’t see her. Used to do it to her sisters all the time just to mess with them. Though unsurprisingly her favorite use for the gift was listening in on conversation she had no right to be a part of.

Though some people were honest about what was on their mind regardless of their audience. Mac being a prime example of that kind of attitude, obviously. It made Tommie a little uncomfortable at times- primarily because she was so used to having to second guess people. Also sometimes because usually around Tommie the honesty she’d voiced tended to be rather, well, flirtatious. It wasn’t that she was adverse to female attention, it was just– she hadn’t really had attention of that kind from anyone, in a long time. She was out of practice.

Instead of responding she got back to walking, a far better use of their time. Of course, Mac was more than capable of walking and flirting at the same time, and her next line was even more overt. She opened her mouth for a retort in return- something about never wanting the oppression of guards or a snappy, unscheduled woman. She was saved from potential embarrassment by potential danger, though. She hit the snow with a huff, grateful that the bank was at least soft enough to break her fall even if she was officially fucking freezing. Tommie freed herself from the flurry and for a moment waited with bated breath- they’d fallen far enough that even if Mac had been spotted they shouldn’t know where she’d ended up.

Speaking of Mac, the girl was flickering like a goddamn disco ball. Tommie materialized and put her hands on her shoulders, focused on taking deep breaths. The snow melting down her back was good too, kept her sharp and distracted from the dizziness pounding her skull- that would fade, it was just a big tumble. “Deep breaths.” She instructed, voice low. “Try–” It was hard, she’d never had to give anyone instructions on how to do this. “I always envision it like a switch, at the base of my neck. If it’s off people see me, if it’s on they don’t. Don’t think too much about your surroundings, you change with them without conscious effort. Focus inward instead. Breathing.” She squeezed her shoulders gently, “feeling.”

Mac had to be okay. They’d started this together and if she turned back now she probably wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms. “You good?”

It always took some time to adjust to a new power, every ability behaving differently and responding to any number of cues. But as disparate and distinct as her repertoire was, each one of them felt the same— which was to say, she finally regained all of her senses. Despite the discomfort tossing around in her stomach, Mac still reveled in the sensation of a knot loosening deep within her chest. She’d been waiting for the day that she could breathe unencumbered, and there was nothing that could possibly top that experience.

Unsurprisingly, she was proven wrong a hot second later (emphasis on hot). She was too startled not to display it on her face when Tommie flickered into sight, though it wasn’t the impressive display of control that slackened her jaw. Mac blinked owlishly up at the face inches from her own, and it only took her a second to detect the concern like a shark smelling blood in the water.

Mac’s expression melted away into something more familiar, her features stretching into a smug grin as the shock faded away. “And I thought you didn’t like me,” she said, echoing Tommie’s words from earlier. Never mind the impending doom and very real danger clawing at their heels— she’d been thirsty for this long before jailbreak had ever been an option, and she wasn’t about to let the moment slip. Surging up towards Tommie like a hooker with rent to pay, she planted a kiss right on that stupid face.

When it happened, she felt it before she saw her limbs dissolve in midair like a fog. “You know, I think I’ve got the hang of it,” Mac hummed, delighting in her newly-acquired skill as if it were a new pair of shoes.

@tommie-dalton

#about #tommie #u gotta speak things into existence ya feel

tommie-dalton‌:

With the prison behind them and and an expanse of trees and snow beyond, running from people she never should’ve been near… This felt like her old life. If she closed her eyes and pretended this was some story she’d been working for a few months and not the hell she’d been trapped in the last five years, it almost felt good.

She manages to curb the laughter that wants to escape when Mac starts to kick up a fuss– she’s good at being silent when her skin is shifting to blend into the world around it because it’s essential. Sound and footprints, that’s all that’ll give her away. One of them does, though to be fair footprints in the snow would give away anyone, invisible or not, so Mac doesn’t get investigator points for that.

“And I thought you didn’t like me.” She teases, flinching a little at the strange feeling under her skin when Mac grazes her arm. It only lasts a second, a strange little tugging and then it’s gone.

Tommie processes this and observes as her escape buddy shimmers from sight, her own eyes narrowed in consideration. “You’re a mimic.” She concludes, sighing. “Well no wonder they wanted you. That means they could have whatever advantage they wanted.”

Despite knowing exactly where Tommie stood, Mac still jumped at the eerie experience of hearing the other’s voice unseen. She scoffed and flashed a self-satisfied grin, forgetting for a moment that it wouldn’t be visible. “There’re a lot of things I feel about you, but dislike isn’t one of them,” she purred, which would have been a lot sexier if she hadn’t been flickering in and out of sight.

Mac dropped her gaze to examine herself, humming in agreement at Tommie’s observation as her lips tightened in a brief scowl. She’d always perceived her ability as a double-edged sword, as deadly in her hands as it was self-destructive. Then again, the self-sabotage was more likely a personality defect than a cosmic curse.

“You don’t have to play coy,” Mac murmured, voice low as they traversed through a wall of foliage. “Belmont isn’t the only one who wants me.” She opened her mouth to continue but swallowed her words instead, ducking down and tackling the space in front of her to avoid the shaft of light that waved over them. They tumbled into a bank of snow several feet below, and if that wasn’t disorienting enough, watching her own limbs disappear and materialize at frightening intervals was unexpectedly nauseating.

soon as she unblocks me the wedding is back on

@tommie-dalton

#about #tommie #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

tommie-dalton‌:

It all boiled down to facts, in the end. People had a right to the truth, to understand the reality they lived in. It blew Tommie’s mind that corporations and systems and people had not just the desire but the power to cover up that reality. It was bullshit, it was a giant fucking con! She’d seen how shitty the world could get, and she just wanted to do what she could to try and nudge things in a fairer direction.

It wasn’t so much about having hope as it was about pushing through when things looked bleak, much as it did out here in the snow. “Don’t be absurd.” Tommie shoots her a scathing glance, but her lips twitch up into a tiny smile. “I’m simply reviewing the facts.” She stumbles a few steps when Mac pulls her along to hide the pair, and maybe it’s silly but she crosses her fingers as the light sweeps over the ground.

The old instinct kicks in, and the wash of that feeling over her skin is instantly refreshing. It feels like stepping back into her favorite pair of shoes; she knows she has to be silent and light on her feet and fast. The camouflage will do the rest.

This is the most desperate moment of her life. Running away from prison through the wilds of fucking Alaska with a rogue guard. It’s the biggest thrill she’s had in years. Cold air burns at her face and for a while she can hear guards arguing back and fourth about where to look, what to do. But as the trees get denser the light of their torches fades and their voices vanish- she doesn’t think they’ve given up entirely, but perhaps taken a step back to re-evaluate. Tommie slows to a halt as Mac does, leaning up against a tree trunk as she catches her breath.

Every reckless decision Mac had ever made in her life seemed to lead her to this moment, as if she were a marble dropped into an obstacle course, speeding towards a line of dominoes in an impact she couldn’t foresee until every tile had fallen. Adrenaline roared through her veins as the crunch of snow underfoot grew louder, filling her to the brim with restless anticipation like packing gun powder into a barrel. Mac wasn’t subtle; she was a blunt instrument where Tommie was a scalpel, but in a game where luck was paramount, the last thing she would have expected was for Tommie to bring a knife to a gunfight.

“What the fuck?” Mac hissed when she suddenly found herself alone, surrounded by trees and blue snow. “Tommie?” She fought to keep her voice composed, but even she couldn’t stem the panic that bled through the edges. “I swear god, if you—“ She never finished her thought, jolted into action at the sight of footprints dotting the ground before her. “Better at self-preservation my ass.” Mac was careful to step into the same imprints the shimmer in front of her left behind, eventually lashing an arm out to sink into what seemed like empty air.

And it was just like what she imagined coming home would feel like, if she ever had one. The sensation was familiar and sorely missed, rippling through her in a full-body shiver. “Hell yeah,” Mac hummed, watching her hands flicker out of sight.

tommie-dalton‌:

It was strange being out in the elements.

The breeze, the crunch of snow under her feet, the smells, the fucking sky. She’d missed the sky. Her office had been at the top of the block, just high rises and clouds out the window- she loved it. She missed it. Probably being rented by some stupid fucking lawyer now who yelled down the phone all day and never appreciated the view.

Tommie curled her hands into fists and stuffed them into her pockets, gritting her teeth against the cold. She could get through it. She had too. There would be no giving up now- ok technically they hadn’t come that far, but it was far enough that she was determined to make it all the way.

She hadn’t been sure if she’d get an answer– but Mac never does exactly what she expects. A power they want. Tommie wasn’t surprised, everything boiled down to greed in the end. She wanted to ask exactly what that power was, but she was silenced by Mac’s own line of questioning. She considers it for a while. If her own mutation were more profitable, more useful, would she have gone a different route?

This gift had been with her as long as she could remember, and she’d always used it to do what had ended up becoming the thing to land her in Belmount. Finding the truth, telling as many people as she could. If Belmount had offered her the chance to work for them instead of being imprisoned by them? At first glance it might seem better, the security around her would certainly have been more lax… But she’d seen too many people fall pray to the systems they were trying to dismantle from the inside. As a prisoner, Tommie was a rebel, not an instrument. “No.” She finally said, watching the cloud her breath formed instead of looking to see how Mac might react.

“The whole reason I’m here is because I was trying to take the place apart. And sure I haven’t succeeded yet, but I don’t see how making myself part of the problem would yield better results.” She is not a warm woman, but perhaps it is the fact that the temperature around them is already so frigid which makes Tommie want to soften the blow a little. “In terms of self preservation your method is probably better, though.”

Mac wasn’t surprised to hear Tommie’s answer, having already assumed as much. Neither of them were particularly prone to flights of fancy, but Tommie’s brand of altruistic idealism had always struck Mac as naive-- which was a far cry from the woman herself. She found it maddening trying to reconcile Tommie’s frou frou optimism with her steely demeanor.

Mac shot a sidelong glance at Tommie at the unexpected show of empathy, astonishment flitting across her face and disappearing just as quickly. “Are you sympathizing with me?” she asked, incredulous and teasing at once. She turned away with a roll of her eyes, though her tone was distinctly less biting as she continued, “I’m not trying to be a hero. Working within the system keeps me alive. Thinking you can save anyone takes a certain brand of narcissism—“ Mac abruptly cut herself off, reaching out to grab Tommie by the scruff and dragging her behind a tree. Two beams of light shone through the branches, making the heavy snowfall glisten.

“Fuck. Hope you’re a runner,” she hissed as she violently dragged her companion through the brush.

@tommie-dalton

tommie-dalton‌:

Mac might be fun but she wasn’t exactly reliable. Seriously, every other guard was right on schedule but this chick couldn’t be bothered to drag her ass to the library- and what, now she was Tommie’s best chance at getting away alive?

Fuck.

She was shivering, but Mac’s admission made Tommie’s whole body tense up for a moment. “You mean you’re a-” She was right, first and foremost. They had to move. Tommie shifted the backpack over her shoulder and started walking, quietly trying to process everything that had already been said.

Mac was a mutant. It was a testament to how doggedly determined she was to return to life as normal that one of the first thoughts to occur to Tommie was that it would make for one hell of a sidebar in the story she wrote about this place. She’d escaped with a guard who’d been just like them all along; trapped. Stuck swirling around in a system that didn’t really want to give her a job, just wanted to keep her near. And she’d been keeping it a secret this whole time, it must have sucked. “…How the hell did you end up working for the institution that wants to see people like you and me wiped off the face of the fucking planet?”

Mac searched the ground for hard-packed soil, keen to avoid leaving footsteps in the snow wherever possible. The flurries swirling around them didn’t make the effort any easier, and she anticipated having to wade through several inches within a few hours’ time-- time that they didn’t have. Depending on how diligent the guards were feeling that night, she guessed that they didn’t have much longer before they were pursued.

If she were anyone else, Mac might’ve bristled at the blunt line of questioning, but instead leveled Tommie with a searching stare. “How else do you think? Someone reports you to Belmont, they send an officer to nab you, and leave you to die in Bumfuck, Alaska,” Mac said. “The only difference is that I have a power that they want.” She shouldn’t have cared if Tommie judged her for it-- Mac’s whole thing was not caring about other people-- but that same niggling seed of guilt she’d been trying to ignore for decades reared its ugly head. “Wouldn’t you take the alternative if you could?”

tommie-dalton‌:

A boat.

A boat?!

Nearly six years in the shit hole and now she was going to get out! She could go back to work- oh sure they’d have replaced her years ago but there was NO WAY they would turn her away when she rocked up fresh off the back of an escape from Belmount with documented evidence of the mistreatment and abuse at the hands of the staff. She could publish her article! Get her life back!

The cold air of the outside world hit her for the first time in years, and at the same time so did the realization of who she was outside with.

Why would Mac help her escape? Why would Mac willing wander through the freezing fucking cold when she had a paycheck and her own room and a steady job? Was there anyone better on the payroll to send along on this little journey, to round up detainees and force them all back into their cells?

No, there wasn’t. It could all be an elaborate sting. Tommie caught the backpack with fingers already going numb, and hurried to unzip it to get at the jacket inside. It staved off the cold enough but she still wouldn’t survive out here for long if she was alone. She caught the phone, too, watching Mac through narrowed eyes.

“Tell me why you want out so bad, and can’t just go the conventional route of quitting your job.” Tommie demanded, feet planted firmly in the hopes that it might stop Mac from just dragging her along again. Of course, she could lie, but Tommie was pretty good at spotting liars. “Tell me why the fuck I should trust a member of fucking staff during an escape attempt.”

Mac didn’t begrudge Tommie for being suspicious; Mac was a traitor to her own kind, and she’d be lying if she didn’t admit that she’d purposely kept her involvement in the escape from Belmont in case she needed an out. But it was the only way she knew how to operate, with one foot out the door and her hand on a failsafe.

Mac exhaled impatiently when she realized Tommie refused to move, her breath forming great white clouds before dissipating. “Because I’d be you otherwise,” she retorted and waved a hand in the direction from which they came. “I fucked up, and if I weren’t working for Belmont, I’d be sharing the same shitty showers you use. That’s the SparkNotes version.” When she had her freedom, it was easier to ignore that the life she had was conditional; but ever since being demoted, the fact that she’d lost the use of her powers had eroded her tolerance faster than any seed of doubt could.

“Now can we get a fucking move on? I’m not gonna lie, if we’re caught, I’m throwing you under the bus, so you should be a little more concerned with speed.” Mac waved her arms in the universal sign of ‘HURRY UP’ as she stomped her way over a fallen log. “Look, if it makes you feel any better, we can have our heart-to-heart while on the move.”

tommie-dalton‌:

There were rumors about escape attempts circling around this place at least every other month. It never happened, but Tommie always prepared anyway. Updated the save files on her memory sticks so they’d be as accurate as possible at go time, kept her ear to the ground, sleeping in shifts. Right now she was awake, but she had heard some stomping about in the hallways so was still lying in her bunk, waiting for the noise to die down before she went out to investigate.

The noise came crashing through the door instead though and Tommie stiffened, waiting for whatever late night raid bullshit they were going to be pulling tonight. There were USB sticks stuffed under her mattress that she quickly grabbed and stashed in her pockets She peeked open one eye enough to realize it was Mac who’d come by, just in time to be hauled out of her bed. She stumbled a few steps, finding her footing as she was dragged down the hallway.

“What the fuck is going on?” Tommie hissed when they were out of earshot. Mac– she wasn’t one of the good guys exactly, but she’d never heard any stories about the guard exploiting her position to beat people up in the middle of the night. Plus they had an understanding, she thought, or at least they’d gotten hammered together in that tiny excuse of an office which kind of made you as close to being friends as Tommie was willing to be with a guard.

Initially, Mac didn’t plan on saving anyone but herself, but even the Grinch had a heart capable of growing. So she raided her coworkers’ lockers and pilfered what she could around campus, careful to leave the most obvious items untouched. She left her own room and office exactly the way they were, racing to bury two backpacks and some food in the woods before manhandling Tommie straight into the cold. They didn’t have a lot of time before guards came looking for them, and it was imperative that they get as far away from Belmont as possible before that happened.

“We’re getting out of here. There’s a boat waiting for us at the docks.” Mac’s tone was clipped and devoid of her usual humor as she stole glances between her watch and over their shoulders. She paused to brush a pile of branches from the forest floor, retrieving one of the backpacks and tossing it at Tommie. “I couldn’t grab much, but there’s a jacket and bottle of water in there for you. Oh, and--” Mac tossed the shitty little flip phone she’d confiscated days earlier. “I took the liberty of using your camera. You might want to look through those photos alone, though.” She could be serious when the situation called for it, but that didn’t mean she was going to pass up a chance to flirt with Tommie.

@tommie-dalton

Mac could fashion a noose out of the list of sins she’d committed, starting with the time she pushed Maggie Maruschack off the swings in pre-k. Her most recent would be this: knocking out security (with more force than necessary, of course), stealing a shitload of inventory, and trashing the admin building as a cherry on top. She was eager to sever the lead that choked her for eleven years, biting the hand that didn’t so much as feed as it withheld and punished.

Tommie was easy to find. Mac figured that tonight of all nights, most detainees would be found where they were supposed to be.

“Shut the fuck up and follow my lead,” Mac hissed, barely audible over the ever-present whir of the generators. Her fist remained buried within the front of Tommie’s shirt, hauling the woman up from her bunk with a violent jerk. Luckily, she wasn’t stupid enough to protest, which made the march out of the compound exceedingly easy. “I have a date with this one. Give me an hour,” Mac said cheerily to the sentries posted outside the dorm as she passed.

#tommie #drevent06

tommie-dalton‌:

Sometimes Mac talked and she didn’t know how to respond.

It was all in jest, obviously, but she was actually the only person in this place who had ever flirted with Tommie. At least in so obvious a way that she’d been able to pick up on it- she wasn’t really the best with those kinds of social queues, honestly- and their interactions were sporadic enough that she’d forget to prepare herself for those kinds of comments.

Still, she was nothing if not unflappable, so she manages to make a return quip anyway. “Anything except give me back my phone, apparently.” Tommie hums, eyes still darting around the small space in search of a clue. As Mac vaulted through the window- honestly not a move that surprised her too much- Tommie’s stance shifted to something steadier, the hand armed with the taser not held out in any threatening way but just resting in front of her body, while she clutched the booze behind her back.

This was a small space, too small for a confrontation. She hoped Mac was sober enough to realize that. “A drinking game.” Tommie scoffed, shaking her head. Anything that included Mac, a taser, and a bottle of booze was absolutely a bad idea.

But she was bored, and curious. “Elaborate.”

Mac instantly brightened like a child presented with a whole cake to herself; she hadn’t anticipated for the night to be going as well as it did, considering it a success that Tommie hadn’t tased her while she was climbing in through the window. “What’s there to elaborate on? We drink, you don’t tase me, and we have a grand ol’ time.” She clambered onto her predictably cluttered desk and sent various office supplies tumbling to the floor. “Maybe I’ll even get drunk enough to give you what you really want,” she said coyly, as if she wasn’t trashed (and slutty) enough already.

Reaching backwards to pull open a drawer, she produced a pair of shot glasses, one of which featured a pinup girl and the other emblazoned with the words HOTTIE WITH A BODY. “I’ll give you any number of chances to guess where your phone is. But if you get it wrong, you have to drink.” She paused to grab a salt shaker before motioning expectantly at Tommie for the vodka. “If you’re close, I’ll drink. Fair enough?” Nothing with Mac was ever fair, but she suspected Tommie already knew that.

tommie-dalton‌:

Tommie was glad she had her back to Mac when she spoke. Firstly, she hadn’t heard her coming so hearing her voice scared the shit out of her. Secondly, her face scrunched up with such a genuine disappointment that she’d just rather the other woman didn’t see. Thirdly, her mutant instinct to vanish into the storage space kicked about inside her uselessly, everything clicking into space in her head but still failing. Which wouldn’t show on her face, but for some reason the idea of looking at someone while her abilities failed her was… Unsettling. Like fight or flight had kicked in and she’d picked the wrong one.

She’d gone stock still for just a moment, but composed herself and managed to pull together an unimpressed- if still irked- cold stare to level Mac with by the time she turned around. “Only if you wanna go to the effort of clambering in here after me.” Tommie said, tone bored. Then she turned around and kept looking.

The phone had to have been buried a little deeper in the madness, but she did find a couple of other things that made her searching worthwhile. “Besides.” Tommie hummed, turning back to the other while a couple of interesting objects in her hands, “I’m the one with a taser and a bottle of vodka, so whose really got the upper-hand?” She shook the bottle and grinned- mostly full. Not her favorite liquor, but good enough to compensate for the sting of failing to find her phone.

Mac could tell she’d had too much to drink from the way she nearly vaulted through the window just to prove a point. She cut her palms on the gritty shards as she braced herself against the sill, but held back in a moment of self-control as curiosity eclipsed impulse. “Babe, you have no idea what I would do for you,” she purred, flirty and threatening at once. There was enough booze swimming through her system to bolster her usual recklessness, and the sight of Tommie playing delinquent was too great a temptation to ignore. She observed the ransack of her office with the proud anticipation of a mother watching her child’s shitty school play, eventually deciding that she’d rather be on stage than sitting in the audience.

“Me, duh,” Mac answered eloquently as she scrabbled up the short wall to throw herself through the window. It wasn’t a perfect landing, maybe a six out of ten, but at least she ended up mostly upright. “Sounds like you have the perfect setup for a drinking game.” Mac brushed herself off as she regained her footing before meeting Tommie’s defiant look with a gleeful one of her own.

Schedule was something to cling too, when everything else around you was in free fall. As a younger woman Tommie had lived the majority of her life by schedule, but with her career in journalism keeping to such a rigid life had not been possible and she had eventually learned to roll with it, old anxieties about clock watching and rota memorizing fading away. Until, of course, she came here. Because here memorizing the schedule was basically essential- she didn’t want to miss lunch, nor did she want to run into any guards whilst she was sneaking down the hallways towards Mac’s office.

The temperamental guard had confiscated her phone. It was a petty power play that Tommie was not going to take lying down, but so far all her attempts had been thwarted be it by Mac returning early or hiding the phone somewhere different or another guard spotting her before she even made it through the door.

Tonight was smooth sailing so far. Honestly Tommie wasn’t sure why she was so determined. Wyatt could get her another phone, but the challenge of stealing back her old one stirred the air, gave her something different to do with her time. God, it was a long time since anything different- that didn’t involve the collapse of sharp rocks all around her- had happened here.

Previously she’d gone the route of picking the lock- seriously, you’d be shocked how many journalists knew how to do that- but it was a trick Mac must’ve gotten wise too and she’d gummed up the mechanism somehow. Tommie broke a window, and crawled through it. She cut her knee on the glass shards and landed on the floor with a hard thump, but it didn’t stop her.

“Phone phone phone… God, it’s a wonder she can find anything in this office herself.” Tommie wrinkled her nose at how disorganized it was, but started pawing through draws to find her prize anyway.

@xxxtrafries

There was a reason why Mac didn’t keep to a schedule— well, several reasons, the main one being that she simply didn’t want to. Though several months had passed since she’d been effectively grounded, she had yet to get used to the unending boredom that life in Alaska dictated. Independence and an egregious lack of oversight had been her favorite aspects of her job, and with both gone, she had little incentive to adhere to her ‘Employee Improvement Plan.’ Because despite numerous threats regarding her job security, she knew that Belmont would rather keep her close than untethered.

With little to keep her occupied, Mac naturally defaulted to what she was good at: fucking with people. She had her favorites, of course-- Jack, Marissa, and occasionally Kendall-- but Tommie was proving to be an especially hard nut to crack. Which of course meant that the majority of Mac’s time was spent trying to do exactly that.

Her shift at the library wasn’t due to end for another two hours, but after confiscating and then sharing a bottle of vodka with two detainees in the stacks, completing security checks was the last thing she wanted to do. She headed back to her office-- a tiny, joke of a room that served as more of a storage space than anything else-- to dig into the stash of booze she kept for times just like these.

The sight of a broken window wasn’t all that alarming, nor unusual, but it’d been a while since Mac had had any reason to exercise her authority (legitimately). Curiosity and interest bubbled up to the surface as she peered inside, instantly breaking out into a grin when she spotted a familiar profile hunched over her desk.

“Olly olly oxen free,” Mac sing-songed as she crossed her arms over the sill, dislodging the shards of glass that littered the edge. “Someone’s in big trouble.”

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