It's Always A Debate In Her Mind; Just How Much Would She Give The Residents Of Any Place She Settles,

hair, tongue, fingers

Hair: How many wigs do you own?

Arie has a collection of wigs in different colors but she prefers her red wigs the most. x, x.

Tongue: What was in your last meal?

What is in Shrimp Ramon noodles anyway? She'll have to look that up.

Fingers: Do you play an instrument?

She plays the piano. In fact, she likes playing modern music on the piano the most.

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."

💐, 💘, ❣

💐 - 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.

𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄❜𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

--- living in the seal harbor apartments, arie made the choice to fix up her apartment as best as she could. the paint is chipping in some areas and the most furniture she has would consist of a bed frame made out of pallets, a couch, two tvs (which one is sometimes playing a fireplace scene) and a place to leave her computer things. there are candles, plants and lots, and lots of blankets because it's always cold and arie likes fluffy pieces of comfort. if you're someone she likes, she keeps your favorites stocked in the kitchen area. her favorite part? the one window in which her cat, ziggy, likes to lay and wait in so she always sees him when she's approaching from below. does the place allow animals? maybe not but they also haven't fixed her "kitchen" sink so they can get over it.

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.”

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.

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?"

She didn't pay much attention to the deaths around town; not in the same way that most would. Perks of not allowing anyone to truly get close to her, she'd suppose. Arie, or Hashtag rather, didn't have time to truly make friends with anyone. That only meant not only caring about people she'd never see again AND letting someone know the fucked up lifestyle she lived. The only evidence that she knew there might be some sort of wrong in her life was seeing just how damn boring the people of Anchorage were. Stepping into the flower shop wasn't a social call which in again might be a clue of her mindset. She wasn't looking for flowers to show mourning and grief, but rather looking for a type of flower she had happened upon in a flash of a dream and it left her brain with a certain itch or hankering --- but not to eat, no.

Her eyes scanned the selection before looking to the voice who spoke, giving a small sort of smile. Maybe a little shy? But Arie wasn't shy. No, Aretha Hatzi wasn't shy. She commanded attention and rubbed everyone wrong, if her missing person's case was any factor of her disappearance.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she replied with a haphazard shrug, "I'm not looking for those but rather, well, what are the chances you've got hyacinths? I'm not from around here, so I don't know if it makes any difference." Considering the flowers she was thinking of grew in much warmer climates; and in particular, possibly Greece. She hadn't done research before coming, not sure why, but having the sense that the flowers just might be HER favorite, if it hadn't been Aretha Hatzi's. @hercule-boisseau

Status: open @anchoragestarters

Where: the Flower Basket

Hercule hears the telltale sound of the bell at the door ringing, indicating that someone has entered the store. With the recent death, the flower shop had experienced more business than usual. Everyone in the town, it seemed, wanted to express their condolences for the death of Willow Amelia. The former dancer didn't mind the business, per se, but they did find it interesting that people seemed to band together when it came to death, even if they didn't know the person.

He hadn't been connected to the girl so he didn't feel the need to mourn, but his heart did go out to the family and friends of hers. They understood why people wanted to express sympathy and in a way, he found it endearing that people care enough to. He approaches the cashier station, taking in the array of flowers leftover from the past couple day's orders.

"I'm sorry to say that we're all out of lilies and orchids, we've had a large influx of orders recently. Haven't been able to keep them in stock, really. But, I can arrange a bouquet for you with any of the other flowers we have as of current." The two blossoms they listed were common when it came to grieving, lilies offering hope and orchids saying "I will always love you". Even though he hadn't worked at a flower shop for long, he had recently become keenly aware of the types of blooms used for funerals and mourning.

If there was a more perfect person for Suraj to meet and pull out this side of them, she didn't know who that would be. She wasn't perfect by any means and she had done plenty of horrible things with the stroke of a few keys, but if you were looking for a good time, she'd give you one. Whether it be dancing or watching movies, she'd welcome in those who are a little bit different and a little bit more understanding. She was selfish and she had no excuse to give, but when she cared, she cared with all of her heart even if she couldn't admit it. Her heart could be set on fire with love and admiration of the people here and she couldn't imagine the possibility of herself being happy but she was the first to admit she was a lonely soul but the last to admit she was one who needed a hand to hold... truth was, she needed help but she couldn't imagine who she'd be if she were happy. Finding Arissa Hatzi? She needed a night like this, talking to and having fun with a kind soul.

"There it is!" Arie cheered, not with malice but pure excitement that they were dancing after all. "All in the hips, baby. Gimmie some, gimmie what you got." Whatever the song was, some form of grungy pop or some cover, it didn't matter when they were having fun. Even Lacey, someone she had also met by chance, danced with them. "You got this Suraj!"

Suraj smiled. They didn’t feel that important in the diner, but anyone who attempted to make another person feel better about themselves, was great in their eyes, and they tried really hard not to fight it. Though within the diner environment, they did their best because they feared the day they would be out of a job, and needed to find something else. After all, they had a working visa now. They nodded. “Far better circumstances, yes,” they agreed, though they didn’t elaborate. They felt more like a dormouse at work, and here at least… there was some confidence, some comfort. They felt less judged, less pulled down. 

Find their moves. Suraj wasn’t about to break down in the one dance routine they’d studied and remembered from one of their all-time favourite bollywood movies. It wasn’t a thing they were ever ready to share with anyone, but the way Arie pulled them along felt thrilling enough that the confidence wave continued. They felt less aware of everyone around them, less worried about their own decisions, moves, facial expressions. They laughed when Arie started dancing with a stranger by the name of Lacey, and joined them, trying to copy the movement, taking it a step further because they felt like Arie wouldn’t judge them for it.