𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓱 𝓯𝓻𝓾𝓲𝓽

anisa & august & dila penned by effie

[ycsterdays]

anisa franklin & august landry & dila avci penned by effie for kilmerhq

anisa- about august- about dila- about

[anxietyproblem]

[scpsis]

OPEN STARTER · @kilmerstarters location · a bar, some place downtown

" WAIT — say that again ! " in a moment, jake had practically dove into the other's lap. up until now, they'd been doing very little to hide how seriously obvious their eavesdropping was. but leaping into a stranger's — as all kilmerites still were to her : beautiful, bewitching strangers — booth was a whole new level of conducting research. " the last part. say it again. that line was golden. "

[ycsterdays]

if he's startled by jake's sudden intrusion into the booth, it doesn't show. all august gives is a slight lift of his eyebrows, a grin sliding onto his face, never one to pass up the opportunity to perform in any capacity. he chuckles, "which one? the line about the duck? or the one about my friend's great aunt muriel?" the server he was regaling with this tale has already walked away, so he has to finish the story for someone.

[lovely-ripperstreet]

Matthew Macfadyen is The Rake's June 2024 Cover Star

[tidelure]

UNSHEDDING WINTER LAYERS AT A COFFEE SHOP, ON BREAK FROM REHEARSAL ╱ feat. AUGUST LANDRY of @ycsterdays

"i can't believe you never told me you were cornelius hackl in new york," the movements of her hand, though avid, are delicate — fingers that had been trained to drink from fine china and play with porcelain since a very young age. even in her excitement vedia lends the impression of something delicate, her voice full of a certain breathlessness, as if the very idea had reached past her ribs and stolen the air there. "oh, it must have been simply gorgeous! i can't even begin to imagine it. what was it like — will you tell me everything?"

[ycsterdays]

he waves his hand, grinning and announcing dramatically, "new york was a lifetime ago," a lifetime he can still repeat the history of over and over and will, "but cornelius... he was definitely a highlight." he finds few in this town that truly appreciate real art, so talking to vedia always feels like a breath of fresh air. plus, there are few things he loves more than a good ego stroke. "i'll tell you everything and then some," gus promises, "besides being the role of a lifetime, our dolly was dating our barnaby, but was sleeping with our horace the whole run of the show. it all came out during tech week. it was really quite the scandal... and almost more entertaining than the show itself. almost."

[ofapotheosis]

rome raises a brow , mock - offended , giving the ridiculously patterned umbrella another once over . " flimsy ? " the displeasure in his tone is obviously feigned , playful and teasing like the woman is more friend than stranger . " no , no . i'll have you know , this beauty here has ' reliable ' written all over her . " there's a theatric reverence in the way he runs a hand along the umbrella's faded floral fabric . " besides , " he adds, because he's never been the type to stay quiet , " my luck's already bad as it can be . i've walked under ladders , opened mirrors — wait , no , broken ladders and walked over mirrors . or something like that . " no , rome . nothing like that . he's waving his hand dismissively ; it's clear by now he has no knowledge of what he's talking about . " and hey ! i'm still okay . mostly . " he turns his attention away from her to glance out at the rain , but mischief lingers in his voice when he speaks , shameless and brazen as ever . " but , hey , if mine isn’t up to your standards , we could always just share yours . "

[ycsterdays]

"mmm, then at this rate? you'll likely get struck by lightning out there." she hums in reply, "it's a wonder this place isn't up in flames just because you're standing in it. so i should definitely be on my way." again, she's not superstitious really, but she's not sure she wants to be trapped in this conversation anymore, so any excuse to leave is good. at his suggestion, her eyebrows shoot up slightly and she clicks her tongue, "well, my fear is we're probably going in different directions. and if you're thinking about suggesting you just come back to my place with me, i can guarantee that sort of come on doesn't work on me." she pauses, tilting her head slightly as she looks him up and down, "actually, has that sort of come on worked on anyone?" her tone isn't unkind, mostly just curious.

[scpsis]

her visage is that of a ghost from the past, beautiful in figure but vile in memory. it occurred to judge just how long it'd really been since he'd looked directly at his ex girlfriend. not at pictures, not in a passing stare as she wandered by downtown. it was enough to nearly break his heart all over again, but he wastes no time by dwelling on the hurt.

" why aren't you cashing these ? " he holds up a sealed white envelope with her name on it. " you haven't transferred your share from my account since february, dila. what are you thinking ? i'm not a bank. i can't hold onto this money for you forever. " in truth, he can and he will. it's the least he can do after ripping their relationship to shreds. " it's adding up fast — we're doing really well. don't you want your cut ? "

[ycsterdays]

"it's your restaurant, not mine." dila replies, giving him a slight shake of her head. even if she technically owns part of it still, it wasn't hers. and taking money from him felt like charity, like an apology for what he did to their relationship. "i don't want your money, judge." she hates the way her tone almost softens when she says his name, like the good memories of him are still front of mind. when she looks at him, the bad ones come up first.

she leans against the doorjamb and crosses her arms over her chest, "i'm happy the place is doing well," it had been what she wanted for them for him, "but it's not like i'm contributing anything to the business anymore. it's not really my money." even if she needs it. she doesn't want to admit that to judge. she doesn't want to admit that she still needs him in some way, "you can use it to... to buy new forks or something."

[silvercage]

open to: anyone (if nothing is settled beforehand, you could also just assume connections) where: the docks

it was utterly irritating, everything was. from the screeching of the seagulls to the mumbled conversations scattered around him. it was safe to say that spencer was out of his comfortzone && he made sure that it was visible to just anyone walking by, clear as day && unspeakably plain. "man, that's just..", his gaze shifted from where his hands tried to force his notebook down the half opened flap of his bag to the yacht straight ahead. annoyance seeped from every fibre of his being at how much the object clutched in his palm fought against his efforts. the sight of the pompous boats, don't tell any of the owners he called them that, didn't do any better to his current state. "can this day get any worse", and spencer knew the second it left his mouth, he would regret it.

@kilmerstarters

[ycsterdays]

anisa wasn't one to stop and chat or loiter around the docks, but she was stretching after her run, heard spencer speak, and she had the time to make things worse, so she said, "i promise you, it absolutely can get worse. want me to start naming the ways?" she suggested in a cool deadpan, eyes flicking to spencer's notebook then back to his face, "one of those seagulls could shit on your notebook. that would make the day markedly worse, no?" she was poised to list more, but she held back, "not to say i'm rooting for your day to get worse. there's just proof that it definitely could."

[scpsis]

he'd never known what to do with people like anisa — those with sharp edges, sharp tongues. every part of wymon was round, easy to palate. his temperament was a smooth stone that'd been pounded ceaselessly by the tide. despite her obvious annoyance, he held patience. " well, no — but a construction worker believes in the building he's constructing, does he not ? a lawyer believes in the justice, i assume. " perhaps his viewpoint was naive, even asinine, but it was written into his character, unchangeable. " okay so, if you were going to have some kind of job that you believed in, what would it be ? "

[ycsterdays]

"maybe the construction worker is just simply building said building because he was told to and he's getting a check on friday." she shrugged, pursing her lips, "i think you're putting too much stock in people following a passion. most people don't." she hadn't even felt passionately about acting, anisa just liked the attention mostly. so when he asked what job she'd have to have to hold a belief in it, she wasn't sure what the answer even was, "the only thing i believe in with enough conviction is myself. so self-employed, i guess." self-employed as what? that wasn't clear. "i'm assuming you believe in your job? just like you believe in god or whatever?"

[kristenschaals]

[katherine-mcnamara]

[nerdkiller]

Trying to maintain my swagful whimsy and optimism rn in the face of an anti-whimsy society

[scpsis]

closed starter  · for dila @ycsterdays location  · the avci home

THE HEAVY WRAP OF HIS KNUCKLES ON THE FRONT DOOR could've toppled the very building over on its own, judge thought, oaken eyes trailing over peeling paint, loose shiplap. it's the bones of a house, only kept alive by the sheer will of its single occupant — dila, the warm beating heart, glowing like a light from the inside. at one point, years ago, she'd done the same for him — smoldered and crackled from the confines of his ribcage. but the home she'd built inside of him had long since collapsed into the sea. there was very little evidence that she'd once occupied the space in the first place. judge let out an impatient sigh, shifting his weight back and forth between his feet. in general, he hated waiting, so biding time on his past lover's front porch was particularly grating. " i know you're home, dila. quit wasting my time and answer the door. i have something for you. "

[ycsterdays]

she never got visitors, so the knock at the door caught her off-guard. she crept to the living room window, peeking out from behind the flimsy cream colored curtain, blinking in confusion when she saw exactly who was interrupting her afternoon. dila thought about pretending she wasn't there, but going upstairs and ignoring it, but when he called out she let out a deep sigh and slowly made her way to the door. "no soliciting." she deadpanned when she answered, standing fully in the doorway so that he couldn't come inside. her gaze flicked up and down, surveying the man she did her absolute best to avoid at all costs. she hadn't expected him on her doorstep, "i don't need anything from you, judge." her voice was quiet, steady, even if her heart was beating a little faster than she wanted it to, "you could have called." she would have declined it.

[kaceyrps]

ZARIA in PRETTY LITTLE LIARS; SUMMER SCHOOL

[petaltexturedskies]

Angela Carter, from Burning Your Boats: The Collected Short Stories; "Black Venus"

[ofapotheosis]

𝐖𝐇𝐎 ? open , @kilmerstarters , capping at 0/5 ! 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 ? hawthorne inn.

there's a storm raging outside . the wind screams like it's tearing the world apart , and the drum of raindrops against the window are more unsettling than calming . romeo knows that if he looks outside , all he'll see is gray nothingness , thick fog stretching across the coastal town . his feet shift lazily as he lingers near the door , pondering his next decision — stay cooped up in this gloomy old place , or go out and pretend he's someone who cares enough to seem productive ? right now , he's leaning towards the former . his hair's gonna get ruined under the downpour , and . . . he catches sight of it then . it's a little kitschy and old , a stick umbrella patterned with florals and laying abandoned by the inn's main entrance . it's not his , but it might as well be , right ? finders keepers , and all that . he picks it up , testing the mechanism ; it opens with a satisfying snap . " lucky me . " he's about to step out into the rain when a door down the hall creaks open . rome freezes , umbrella still poised in the air , sheepish grin stretching onto his lips . caught red-handed . " oh . . . uh , this yours ? "

[ycsterdays]

she comes through the door, zipping up her raincoat as he speaks to her. she stops, shaking her head and holding up the small black umbrella clutched in her hand, "no. but it's bad luck to open an umbrella inside." dila tells him. she's not even particularly superstitious, but she never opens an umbrella inside or walks under an open ladder. just to be safe. she glances out into the downpour, flipping up the hood on her coat, "it's really coming down, hm?" she murmurs, fingers toying with the velcro on the umbrella in her hand. she likes the rain, always has (naturally), but she hates wet socks and especially hates wet denim, so all the precautions are necessary, "yours," she paused, "well, the one you're holding," apparently not his, "looks a little flimsy. be careful out there."

[scpsis]

closed starter  · for anisa @ycsterdays location  · delphi's delight

" what i'm not understanding is — " wymon placed his hands on the check-out counter between them. ( he'd only stopped at delphi's to say hello to circe. how he'd gotten into this heated debate, he wasn't sure. ) " if you don't even believe in any of this stuff, why do you work here ? isn't that ... immoral ? "

[ycsterdays]

anisa raised her eyebrows, the look on her face something between a disdainful sneer and a grimace, "immoral? please, spare me with the morality talk, wymon." she withheld the eye roll that threatened, keeping her steady gaze on him, "it's a job. do you think construction workers like scaffolding? do you think manicurists like touching people's decrepit hands? do you think lawyers like having to call an old person in an ugly robe 'your honor?' we all make concessions for money." plus, coming from show business? she had seen it all. "people will do anything for a check."