The Guy's Poor Heart, She Thought, Before Thinking About What It Could Do To His Brain. "I Wouldn't Worry

It's always a debate in her mind; just how much would she give the residents of any place she settles, even just for a day or a few months, the truth of herself. In this moment, however, it was a side of truth. No, she wouldn't rat the woman out. In fact, she found a sort of adrenaline in the woman's action. "I haven't decided yet actually. There's a pretty sick green and blue one I've had my eye on for a while but I'm also thinking three shades of purple that just came in. In again, I'll probably end up getting them both." She was, after all, a sucker for wigs. In fact, reds were typically used AS Hashtag. A mask on top of the mask safely tucked away in a place no one would find. "I think fun and shiny but I'm not above a full face of makeup. Oh here, look." she says, pulling out her phone to look up the wigs she had been looking at.

Frozen in place while the other looked over the display, brown eyes wide as Ava waited for some indication of whether or not Arie would sell her out for what she'd seen, the hairdresser realized that she vaguely recognized the woman as one of her neighbors. They'd only crossed paths a few times, as was bound to happen living in such close quarters in her already miniscule hometown, but she really didn't know much about Aretha personally. So when she took on a chipper tone, making it clear that she didn't intend to snitch, Ava's lungs deflated with relief, returning Arie's smile with one of her own. "Well, what does your new wig look like? It's kind of my area of expertise, so I can help you find just the right thing to make the whole look pop," the brunette boasted, flipping her own raven locks back with a flick of her free hand. Hoping that her offer to help could serve as a token of her gratitude for her silence, Ava turned her attention to the palettes of eyeshadows across the aisle, the tube of stolen lipstick still burning a hole in her pocket. "So, are you just looking for something fun and shiny for your eyes and lips, or did you want a full face worth of new makeup?"

BOLD what applies.

PERSONAL ; homeless | poor | middle class | comfortable | rich | single | relationship | it's complicated | dating | engaged | married | divorced | widowed | parent | only child | middle child | youngest child | oldest child | glasses/contacts | hearing aid | braces | wheel chair | cane | service dog | cis-man | cis-woman | trans-man | trans-woman | non-binary | demigirl | agender | homosexual | heterosexual | bisexual | pansexual | asexual | demisexual | blind/visually impaired | mute | deaf | depression | anxiety | autism | PTSD or ASD | ASPD | personality disorder | panic disorder | OCD | other

BELONGINGS ; car | bike | scooter | motorcycle | truck | mansion | house | apartment | RV | trailer | phone | desktop | television | watch | business | life insurance | land | PETS ; cat | dog | rodent | bird | reptile | other

APPEARANCE ; hair - crew cut | pixie cut | wolf cut | bob | jaw length | shoulder length | elbow length | hip length or longer | massive wig collection | black | dark brown | brown | light brown | auburn | red | ginger | strawberry blonde | dirty blonde | blonde | platinum | gray | silver | white | other color | facial hair . eyes - dark brown | hazel | amber | blue | green | gray . body type - muscular | athletic | lean | average | scrawny | curvy | fat | chubby | piercing | tattoo

TYPE OF DRUNK ; happy | sad | risk-taker | angry | philosophical | doesn’t get drunk easily | doesn’t (usually) drink VICES ; smoking | drinking | illicit drugs | prescription drugs

OTHER ; broken a bone | gotten stitches | had a serious illness | had a near death experience | killed someone | tried and failed to kill someone | had an unrequited crush | had sex and regretted it | had a one-night stand | experimented with their sexuality | ran away from home | learned an instrument | gotten a noticeable scar | been bullied | bullied someone | saved someone’s life | cheated on someone | been cheated on | been betrayed | taken the fall to protect someone | been arrested | been wanted by police | goes by a nickname | been blackmailed | had an attempt on their life | gotten away with a crime | gone on a road trip

WHO: Dusty @drvgonbvnny WHERE: 107.5 BLACK DRAGON PEARL RADIO.

It wasn't unusual for her to work just a little bit later than most at the radio station. While it had been an attempt to incorporate herself into the town and adjust while waiting for her assignment, she actually really enjoyed the work she did. The people she worked for, and under, were part of that. If you asked her, she wouldn't be able to say she cared for them exactly, and in fact she couldn't. They were causalities in her life. Telling people she didn't give a fuck about anyone would mean they'd survive another day and keep them from the truth of it all. Heartless? No, she liked them too much to pull them down with her. Their bullshit and her bullshit were mighty different. So in the end, it really was a never ending nightmare of wanting to love these people and knowing she'd have to leave them one day.

Hearing her stomach growl, she put her headphones down and went in search of food in the break room. She had thought everyone left but she wasn't surprised when she saw Dusty there, hunched over a thing of coffee probably. "You look how I feel but good news is, I think the sound issue is a cord thing. We'll have to get another one." Because let's be honest, between the two of them? They kept every mechanical detail so neat you could graze it with a fine toothed comb and not find an issue. The cord might account for the fact that the last show had a slight cut here and fizzle there. Sometimes, cords just go bad. She would take care of it because Dusty and Sera had a baby to take care of whereas Ziggy could handle waiting for his feeder to go off... but there he was, and Arie wasn't alone once again.

Emerald Haywood + outfits

Arie knew that was coming but hey, she was nothing if not prepared. "I'm from a tourist trap in Greece, though I've been traveling for a few years. I guess I found something I enjoy in the strange sense of familiarity if I decided to stay here, kourasménos ánthropos." What that was, Arie hadn't decided yet. Even if this was it, this was the last stop and she truly was abandoned here, she couldn't pinpoint the exact excuse that wasn't an excuse at all. "Spoken from experience? I don't remember much these days about home, but I think I enjoyed the possibility of never seeing someone again much less having all of my secrets known to everyone and their mother." This conversation was... normal? and erratic. "It helps that I see code in everything, even veterinarian medicine. There's a code in us." And the amount of possibilities it would take for two people to meet in a place like this. The probability of them liking each other enough to continue a conversation? Far more larger. "I can do tthat. I will also tell you, I live in those shitty apartments but I spoil Ziggy like crazy. I think he eats better than I do, actually. But if you ever want to check it out and approve it, you can. I don't mind -- I'll see if I can get a day off and make a day out of it if Ziggy wants to."

Matevos grinned, then frowned. He didn’t comment on it however, as much as he wanted to. He was certain he was going to coax her into doing it, and then he was going to regret it afterwards. Though the act sounded very nice. He nodded. “Where are you from?” he asked. “It is definitely a change, but… you know, they might know each other, but nobody really knows each other. That’s kind of the dangerous thing about small towns, everyone knows something about someone else they’d like to judge about.” He smiled, noting the pride in her voice, very much enjoying how she seemed to be enjoying what she was doing. He understood that, it was why he’d never give up his own job as a vet, even though it was definitely made more difficult by his life in crime. “Depends on who does it,” he suggested. “Your job also sounds like fun, but you’d probably have more fun doing it.” But, his job was definitely a lot of fun, though perhaps mostly after hours when he could cuddle the dogs and take them on walks. Not so much the diagnosing of animals, unless if it was things that could be easily healed. “Well, you can always bring Ziggy in and see if he takes to any of the cats, I wouldn’t really let these poor creatures stay over at anyone’s before meeting their present company… you know, kids, animals, other pets. I’ve had too many regrets over the years.”

KEKE PALMER as EMERALD HAYWOOD  NOPE (2022) dir. by Jordan Peele

She wasn't entirely sure she felt emotions like sadness, grief, loss or some days even true joy. No, the feeling she held in her chest was something of a gnawing sort of knot of chest muscles. Her life was meant to be nomadic in a sense, never putting down roots, always being disposable if she were lucky to be forgotten or not. Dropping her in this danky and not so quaint place? Maybe she felt like IT WAS HER TIME. They swore she had a job to do but she hadn't heard a fucking peep from them since before she got here six months before. There wouldn't be a mission, there wouldn't be an end. They sent her to her demise, destined to become a forgotten member, forced to pretend she was Aretha Hatzi, but denying it in the same motion. Negative emotions didn't have a name to her in the same way; but she knew that she could either blame the original for her addictive and dangerous tendencies, or embrace them as if no, that's just me.

This wharf, in this moment, seemed like a meeting place for the emotional. Something was in the air. Arie let out a chuckle, shoulders bobbing. "I'm not much of a runner but thanks for the warning," she replied as her fingers searched for a cigarette. Menthol, some off brand of Newports, but still satisfying the craving she held now. "I wouldn't blame them if they do. Staying here might just be, well, a dumb fuckin' thing to do."

@anchoragestarters ; anchorage harbor ; CAP ( 0/4 )

The squalling clang-clang-clang of a metal bell where the barges were entombed in a temporal watery grave was overlooked by a hill where Cyrek stood now, hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie loosely clinging to the bag of bones. As a teenager, he could recall weaving in and out of the shipment freights in the deadened wintry nights with his band of degenerates, including Fallon and Stella — as an adult, he'd stalled on the thought of sneaking to one of the shipments and hiding out until it took him somewhere else. His first instinct to crop problems was always to pack up and skip town. Unfortunately, that was an unviable option now, his lower lip sucked in an encumberment of crooked teeth and worrying away at the skin. Ginger curls splayed over his countenance, the musk of saltwater wafting to his corroded nose as it was carried by the wind, grey skies clouding out the consistent sunshine. Eventually, his head shied away from the inlet he was staring at pensively as the approach of another person alerted the right half of his senses to their presence. It was scenic enough and a stone's throw from the wharf — he could see why people milled around for more than feeling sorry for themselves. "Heard it's goin' to Seattle, could catch it if you run, mate," he jested, dipping his head in the direction of the barge shipment. Bringing the joint he had been clutching onto back to his lips, he inhaled. "Already saw the for sale signs goin' up around Delilah's Den and Campbell Park. Reckon they'll sell as fast as they wanna beat it outta dodge?"

There REALLY wasn't much that made her lose her steely cool tone often. After all, she was meant for something else; not just living but rather living in the shadows. Being the glitch out of the corner of your eye, that determined whisper of "DID I JUST SEE THAT?". While she wasn't made to be a killer, she was in some aspects. The killer of hope, the killer of dreams, the reason you avoid the internet... and sometimes, only sometimes, a killer if needed. While she still hadn't been given her mission or reason for being in this town, she had gotten somewhat close to the people in it. Her definition of weird, is well, sparked by the video. An emotion rises in her ---- confusion.

The words out of her mouth are strange to her. "You need to give this to the police, man." Yeah, it's pretty obvious of what needed to happen. "Do you have cameras in here? Maybe it's..." Did she really have to say it? Whoever left the tape could've been the person involved.

Status: Open @anchoragestarters

Where: Slashback Videos(again). No cap!

Hunter stared at the new dvd on the shelf, dumbfounded by how and why it got there. He recognizes "the main character", of course he does, and it feels like some sort of sick joke that someone would pull something like this. They don't remember seeing this when they got a new shipment in and if they had seen it they probably wouldn't have put it out.

He can't seem to tear his eyes from it, mind filled with the possibilities of how it might have gotten there. Their only theory is someone must have broken into the store and put it on display, for some twisted reason. When someone walks up to him in the store, he's quick to respond. "My guess is as good as yours, I dunno how that got there. But whoever did this has gotta be real sick in the head to pull this kinda stunt. Honestly, I can hardly believe it."

Emotions weren't something she was taught per say but rather something she was taught could drive someone's choices. While the powers that be didn't tell her not to feel, she knew better than to admit she had any feelings out loud. Maybe she was stubborn, one way or another, imbedded in her stolen DNA. It would be better for all involved if she didn't feel anything for them in the end -- and yet there she was with a sort of pink in her cheeks that might admit embarrassment for being so into what she was doing that she hadn't noticed past the sense of familiarity. "I'm sorry that I was so focused on my work that I couldn't see you," which seemed genuine and if not key in the fact that she was flirting with them. "I'm Arie and I promise I'm not as rude as I seem." and despite the fact that she had, had a few shoots of Tequila already, she wasn't drunk. Warm maybe but one of the perks of being a mirroir was that she wasn't like most people. "Care to dance, Suraj? I bet you've got a few moves in you."

Suraj had a way of spending their weekend nights in clubs. It wasn’t because they had any type of dancing ability, or that they loved alcohol. Both were very untrue. They didn’t drink, they danced but only when they were pulled onto the dancefloor. It was mostly that they could disappear into the crowds, feel safe for a moment among the many sweating bodies. They were an introvert, but that didn’t matter when they could barely hear anyone anyway. And that was the best thing about going to the club, there was rarely much talking involved. They didn’t even tense up when someone leaned closer to them. “Oh uhm… you spend late nights at the diner where I work,” they said in response, smiling, because Suraj’s main point of contact was their service job. They’d seen her typing away on her laptop some nights, and they’d always wondered about what she did. But she’d seemed so invested that they hadn’t dared to ask, but it was inspiring. They always felt like they made much more progress on their film script if they’d spend the evening watching her work. "I'm Suraj," they introduced themselves.