Arie Knew That Was Coming But Hey, She Was Nothing If Not Prepared. "I'm From A Tourist Trap In Greece,

sometimes i fantasize that someone misses me

She gave a small but mischievous smile. "I wasn't suggesting YOU, but I hear you." Chances are if she was having a bad day, you'd probably be able to convince her to smash someone's windows out. She'd be sneakier about it though -- as sneaky as someone who needed to stay hidden could be, anyway. "Kind of both? I'm not used to small towns where everybody knows everybody. It's definitely a change for me." Arie admitted, leaning back in her seat to point at the brilliant idea. "Me either, but I'll find someone. Just watch. It needs to happen." Hell, maybe she'd fund it. Just because she lived in a sketchy apartment didn't mean she didn't have money. Whether through the station, the Dead Idol or side gigs on the internet ... Mum's the word. "I keep the show going and up to date, computer and technical wise. Some days I set up the live broadcasts. Most nights, I'm making sure quality issues aren't just a cord issue or a software issue." she admitted, voice somewhat filled with pride. "I'm sure your job is much more fun though." As for her wants in an animal, she gave a small shrug. "I get that. I like cats because sometimes I'm not home for too long and I don't have to take them out every few hours for a walk. It seems I have less time these days." But to the question of the matter, she wasn't entirely sure. "Maybe. I have a tuxedo named Ziggy and I don't know, think maybe he needs a buddy but I also know some cats just don't mix well."

Matevos - who did not not enjoy violence - really had to think about the offer. Smashing things did sound like a fun thing to do, and he could use something to get his mind off of things, but then there was the fact that vandalism was against the law and he’d only just come out of police custody. “Mentally, I’d say, it definitely is the type of situation where I’d gladly take you up on that offer. But I promised to stay out of trouble, and I think smashing someone’s car windows is the exact opposite of that.” He looked thoughtful at the other when the ‘vaguely familiar’ was uttered, and then grinned. “You mean you think you know them? Or you think you know someone like them?” he asked, because he was always a little curious when people spoke in vague terms. Not just when they used the word ‘vaguely’. “Someone should, I would make it into a comic… sadly I don’t know how to draw.” Or write stories, or even how to come up with them. Though he would love to make a story about superhero dogs, had that been done already? “Aah engineer,” he said, as if he knew exactly what that meant, though confusion was clear on his face. “What does a broadcast engineer do?” He knew Dusty and Sera, though not as intimately as perhaps he should in a small town like this. “A few yes, I keep mostly dogs, since cats tend to find a home much quicker. People have different expectations for dogs. Are you looking for a cat?” 

She preferred the comfort of hiding behind a computer for two reasons, one of which might be easier for a trained eye to pick up on; 1. when it was discovered she had a skillset and quickness of computers, the Dead Idols spoke less and less to her face to face. They didn't need to be so heavy handed with her as they would someone who'd be trained in hands on tactile training such as fighting or toxicology. 2. being awkward meant that it weeded out certain people. Could you tolerate awkwardness? Yeah? Slide in, buckle down, and wait out the ride in which the end meant Arie actually gave a shit about someone. She wasn't sure about Sera persay and how the other felt, but Arie? Arie cared for the the little family so much that even if she couldn't say it, she showed it. Her skills with Dusty's allowed her to keep the station tightly locked down and at the end of the day, she was more than happy to play with little Crash and keep him entertained while they worked. In fact, anyone at the station was. If she didn't know this was a mission she was waiting for, she'd almost be glad to stay here forever. A side effect of six months of silence on the Dead Idol's end but they knew that, didn't they? They had to know that. Wasn't that the reason their mirroirs could eventually blend in so well?

Arie neared closer, seeing the man struggle. A small frown graced her lips as she saw him struggling. If anything, it was care that told her Dustin needed sleep, not more coffee. "I'd say yes but I think Sera might kick my ass if I take you on a late night adventure that voids you from sleep. In again, why not?" You could call it machoism if you wanted but it was something else. A joke, maybe. She admired his dedication to the station but she also wanted to reassure him that it would still be standing when they'd get back. Closing the distance between them now, she took the coffee pot from him and put it back on the burner. Flicking the machine off, she turned back, "I think I can handle that. No fire, got it." At the mention of Crash's godmother, Arie gave a little laugh. "I think you should warn her, not me. I'm pretty sure Boyd has a crush." Boyd, some normally faceless what.... janitor? Mic man? Sometimes it depended on the day. "No fires and definitely no alarming godmom, I promise."

The night was still, tranquil save for the pattering against the sills of the station's windows, and the tower above the building echoing an eerie howl of the plaintive winds as if it were a woeful virago. Dustin had always been a diligent pupil, at the expense of his own health, and it persisted into the summertime without the diluting of coursework — instead, he was battened by the self-imposed concerns of the time the pair would be spending away in the first half of August before classes resumed. His head craned aside when he heard the shuffling of feet entering the break room, his alertness of his surroundings making up for the shortcomings of Sera's ever-dwindling hearing ( a facet of which, he still did fret. ) He smiled warmly at Aretha, partial instinct thereby overridden out of compassion for his employee. As awkward as she seemed, at times, the empath had kept a studious eye on her — sometimes, it felt like an armor he was forced to don. The frigidity of his thoughts, especially given the news of Willow's demise, had an engine purring with chariness for his surroundings. However, he'd had a fluttering in his chest from the moment he showed the woman the reason for the Graves-Seongs' paucity of promptness to her application. Anyone who was so privy to a recluse who melted at the sight of Tyche Jungsoo was staunch, in his book ( and yes, he did keep track, hyperthymesia recording it for him. )

"Rita," he'd coined his own nickname — partially on account of correcting a mishap of Sera becoming lost in translation at first meeting, "I can come with if you can drive." A joke hung in the void that he couldn't, failing to bloom as he fumbled to grip the handle of the coffee pot with dystonic fingers. His palm pressed firmly against it, thumb gripping the top of the handle, whilst his recoiled digits were in rigor mortis against his palm, tendons of his wrist visibly tensing as he kept it outstretched long enough to pour out the mug in his other palm. Carefully balanced on the partially ( but significantly less ) stiff fingers of his opposite hand, he held it out to the engineer. His amblyopic eye shook nervously as his strength dwindled, mustering enough to empty the pot into a second mug. "I thought I'll stay and record stuff, get a headstart for the next couple weeks... Cohosts can take the live stuff, just —" A yawn intercepted, blearily sticking his hand into a hole of his distressed Gengar sweater to rub against his shoulder blade. "Don't let anybody burn down the studio. Dios mio." Sheepish when he splashed the coffee over the mug a bit, hands obstinately refusing to cooperate in full, he turned to face her. "Think you can handle it, kid?" Pausing, the two-toned metalhead pouted his lip, myriad of piercings protruding, and nodded vaguely down the hill outside. A branch was thumping against the pane. "I'm, uh, gonna have Crash's godmother stay while we're out. So don't be alarmed."

❀ *◦ keke palmer. female. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that aretha hatzi( hashtag )? i think that the twenty-seven year old from meteora, greece works as a hacker for the order of the dead idol, but outside of that people describe them as late nights spent staring at the computer, hanging out in shady diners, no care for which version of themselves is seen next. i hear they are secretive & distant, but they are also known to be warm & lyrical. consider giving them a visit at their home in the seal harbor apartments and get to know why they’re called the black sheep.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

FULL NAME: Arethra Mae Hatzi ALIAS | NICKNAMES: Hashtag (to those who know or come across her work), Arie, Aretha Daniels. BIRTHDAY | AGE: COMING SOON, 27. BIRTH LOCATION | CITIZENSHIP: Unknown, unknown. | Greek citizenship, in a way. CURRENT LOCATION: Anchorage, Alaska. SEXUALITY: Bisexual. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Greek, Spanish, German, Chinese, Turkish and some other various languages. OCCUPATION | DEGREES: Hacker for the Dead Idol. | Broadcast Engineer for 107.5 BLACK DRAGON PEARL RADIO. | None. IQ | ETC: While not technically tested for IQ as a miroir, Hashtag is quick to learn technological things and thinks of her brain as a super computer. It's the reason she was able to become a hacker compared to any other skill sets -- and she believes the real Aretha must've been highly intelligent. PERSONALITY: She can be well spoken and almost lyrical -- but that's because in a way, she's speaking in code. While she might live in the world's shittiest apartment complex, she is warm despite how secretive she can be behind closed doors. If you ever need a meal, she'll cook you something, or invite you to her favorite dinky diner for a meal on her. Despite that, for every inch she gives someone, there's a few feet between the truth and reality. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats. All the cats. In fact, for the first time in Hashtag's existence, she finally has a cat.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Imagine opening your eyes, empty inside of emotion and memory. Now imagine being told you're someone, but you're really not. You're a mirrored image of someone who went missing -- you are them, on the surface. A clone of a life that would never be yours, or you. You're tested to find your skillset, settling on computers. In fact, it comes all too naturally to you when your fingers type. Your eyes can see the faults in codes most cannot and somewhere along the way, you create a super worm virus capable of bringing down governments IF SOMEONE REALLY WANTED YOU TO. So you keep that tucked away for a rainy day, going where you're told like the perfect technological solider they want you to be.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Flash forward to now, stepping out of a car that dropped you outside of the shittiest set of apartments you've ever seen. There was an order to stay here, waiting in the shadows until your skillset comes in handy once more. Get a job, make friends, blend in with the masses. Yet you start to think you're crazy when you get flashes, however brief they are, of a life you know isn't yours; not aware that the life you've never lived is just around the corner. A meeting of chance, or a stroke of luck, but you've never been lucky. No, if anything you're screwed.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⌿ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

Arissa Hatzi -- TO BE PLOTTED. It's gonna be angsty, don't worry. Grab a thing of popcorn and gather around for the shitshow.

Those involved with the radio station -- whether they work together or deal with each other in passing, these people probably look to her for help as a broadcast engineer, or there's a caller who happened upon her on a smoke break and asked her a question or two while they were sneaking around.

Someone she butts heads with often -- Most people don't ask too many questions. They certainly don't put much thought into certain actions, but from day one, these two have fought each other on everything. Maybe they've actually thrown hands? Whatever it is, it's like fire and gasoline.

Someone she helps with computers -- Did you use your school computer to look up spicy subjects, and now have a nasty virus on it? Did you find a code that's suspicious? Do you not know what technology is? Whatever the case is, this person always hits her up for computer help and she's always down to answer the call.

Someone she talks conspiracies with -- How these two met, no one really knows, but whenever they're together, they're always hush hush whispering in the corner or in a booth. In a way, this is as truthful as she'll allow herself to be with someone even if it's battling the idea of a giant moth man fighting a yeti.

Someone who is aware, or sort of aware, they both are miroirs -- Maybe they trained together or maybe they met along the way on some mission or attack. Maybe they aren't aware and Hashtag has to break the news. Whatever the case, I need semi-best friends trauma bonding.

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?"

The guy's poor heart, she thought, before thinking about what it could do to his brain. "I wouldn't worry now. I'd worry if you keep doing it; that all catches up to you eventually." But maybe she's wrong and wouldn't she know it? IF SHE KNEW THE TRUTH, she'd be less concerned with whether he'd drop dead from a heart attack or his brain deciding to shut down. "Just don't go micronapping and find yourself in some weird situation. This place is weird enough as it is." Maybe it's weird, maybe she's had too many people asking her deep things that she finds herself not asking, not because she's not curious, but because she hated the twenty questions herself. If he wanted to tell her why he was worried, he could. She wouldn't push. "Woe is you," Arie let out a little laugh before extending a hand, "I'm Arie. You'd see me more, probably, if I didn't find myself devoted to my job at the radio station. So Woe, is that a middle name? Is your first name Doom?"

Matevos looked at the stranger, frowning, then made an effort to shrug. “A few,” he said. “Probably about ten every twenty-four hours,” he guessed. “Definitely eight every twenty-four hours.” He was making the same calculation, trying to figure out if he could kill himself with caffeine and if he should be worried. His heart was beating rapidly, yes. But also… he wasn’t technically human, he wasn’t sure if this was going to affect him the same way as it would the original Matevos Hakobyan. “I did have a few micro naps here and there,” he said. “But you know, it’s kind of hard… too much worrying,” he added. “Not that I have nightmares, but I always wake up again.” He sighed. “Oh woe is me.” He paused, let his head lean on his hands. “And who is you?” 

If she was being forced to live in this town as she waited for her order, she was going to at least explore it and have a little fun doing it. Every few days or even weeks, she picked a different spot and hung around it for a while. Today just happened to be the ranch with the bed and breakfast. If you asked her what she thought of it, she'd say... kind of dull, but in again, her definition of beauty was created distorted. It almost made her think of the word quaint; some idea of paradise in the middle of a warfare of wit and cruelty.

She stood there, lips around her cigarette watching the two with a squinting expression as if trying to see something better before Arie gave an innocent smile. "I think I found what I was looking for actually," which seemed flirtatious but the truth was, she was looking for nothing entirely. What the fuck was the reason she was sent to this place of all places? "found a handsome boy too. The horse, I mean." Teasing? Maybe. "Do you, or the ranch, offer lessons? I'd like to ride but it's been a few years." Not for her, not really, but there seemed to be an itch to ride now that she was here, seeing all of the horses.

starter for: open ! ( @anchoragestarters ) cap: (1/4) ! location: prancer's ranch/bed and breakfast spot ! time: later in the morning !

The ranch hand held the lead rope with the smallest sense of annoyance, the stallion beside him following obediently as the horse's tail swished back and forth behind his rider. The pair had grown rather attached due to the overall needs the ranch required. He took the leadrope and tied a quick undoing knot against the post, his hum escaping as he carefully took the bridle off of his shoulder. Dakota turned his head and soon felt a snort escape as the stallion made eye contact with him, almost curious yet almost as annoyed as him for being forced to work.

"We've literally been doing this for three years now, we can be annoyed when I wash you and get you fed." He spoke in a tone, acting as if the beast who carried him gave a damn as he walked forward. His hands soon held the bit as he carefully pushed it into the stallion's mouth, giving a pat on the neck as he fully moved the bridle over his ears before grasping and tightening the throat latch. His finger soon sticking underneath to ensure it wasn't too tight, but not loose enough either so it doesn't disappear while riding ... again.

"I know I know, it's annoying." He mumbled as he heard the snorts, soon moving and loosely throwing the reins on the side of the saddle horn closest to the seat. He then patted around, almost groaning in annoyance realizing he didn't have any of his important list of things he needed for the ranch with him. "Motherfucker..." He then moved and undid the lead rope, soon sticking his foot into the stirrup as mounted and clicked his tongue, the stallion snorting as he moved into a quickened canter feeling the added touch of his rider's heel.

The annoyance on the cowboy's face staying present as he arrived to the bed and breakfast, almost perking up a brow as his eyes met with someone. "May I help you find something or have you never seen a cowboy before and want to take in the view?" He teased, soon hopping down from the saddle as he moved the reins over the stallion's head and held them in his gloved hands. He awaited the answer, soon tying the reins to the tying post added in for the staff.

Well excuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUu se me

💐, 💘, ❣

💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?

Arie has never really had a genuine love romantically given her situation but if she could, she'd be drawn to someone who lingers even when she's being kind of mean and pushing everyone away. Someone who listens even when she doesn't know they're paying attention to her ramblings. Maybe someone who holds her (as touch is definitely a love language for her).

💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?

Let's be honest here. I can't tell you what personality she'd be attracted to other than it would be a surprise to her if she woke up one day and realized, "I'm attracted to / in love with this person." She'd think her type is the strong macho guy and end up being more drawn to the opposite, and even gender.

❣ - Are they secretive about their romantic relationships or do they not stop talking about it?

She's had flings that if weren't for work in some way, she kept secret. She has to. Anyone who is a mirroir knows you can't have personal relationships outside of whatever you were mirrored for.