It would never cease to amaze him how people could go around acting like all of this was just normal. Here he was, about ready to give up entirely, and people were dancing and laughing and chatting like it was possible to just forget everything and have a good time.

But then, he could pretend with the best of them. He could laugh, and chat, and dance. He could flirt and fool around. So he did, with a sway of his hips and a slide of his feet, shoulders occasionally moving with the music as he moved. When Max bumped into him, he turned and looked the other up and down, placing a hand gently on the hat and smirking.

"I've seen this hat before, but not on your head," he commented, removing his hand and shrugging. "I'll be sure to be more aware of who's approaching me from behind, I promise," Cass teased, smile only growing.

where: avant-garde ball who: open

Max had reached levels of nihilism that were new even for him. While they hadn't been ask skeptical as Hunter as to the reality of the monsters, seeing a person get ripped to pieces right in front of their eyes was an Experience to say for sure.

So he was swaying on the dance floor, a cigarette in one hand, a drink in the other, despite the people around him shooting them dirty looks for the smoke.

They'd already stolen a hat off someone's head that they were wearing, and they were also wearing a pair of dark sunglasses, despite being indoors with dimmed lighting. It was little wonder that they bumped into someone, stumbling some to keep from falling.

"Whoa man, watch where you're going," he said, taking a puff off the cigarette.

"Me?" Izan looked over his shoulder, but he didn't see anyone else she could have been speaking to. Smiling, he nodded. "Yes. I know people that are here, but I didn't come with anyone," though there was a chance he would be leaving with someone on his arm, he figured. Someone else on their way to the commune, looking for a good time that Izan could provide. "A mistake? It's just fun, it's not a big deal. If you're uncomfortable, nobody would be mad if you left, I promise," he reassured her, smiling.

open starter location: minnie's dance hall

She had been so excited about the ball - but now Delphi just felt vulnerable and naked, standing alone in the dance hall. She hadn't thought to ask Denny to accompany her, but now she wishes she had.

"Are you here alone too?" Her voice wavered a little as she spoke up to the person who was standing closest to her. "I've never really been to anything like this before. I'm starting to wonder if I made a mistake."

Gideon watched her hands tapping, and then looked at her face again. She was nervous about speaking of her ex-fiance. He recognized the feeling, and his own shoulders stiffened. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't pay enough attention. I should've noticed. I should've done something, or said something," he stopped, frowning. He knew there wasn't much he could've done. He'd been a kid, going through his own shit, also unprotected by the people who should've protected him. But he wished he had been able to do something to help her. She was too good, she didn't deserve anyone hurting her. "No, I don't think so. There was more to it than that. But I was wearing makeup, when I packed up my stuff." Was it silly? Gideon wasn't sure what he was trying to tell Beverly about the makeup. It hadn't felt silly, it had just felt condemning at the time. "Oh," he said simply, eyebrows raising. "Is...are they nice?"

Beverly pulled her hands away and set them on the table, tapping on the surface. "Yeah, my ex-fiance," she said, shifting uncomfortably in her seat. "I guess I kept that secret well from you all, huh?" Honestly, she avoided saying his name whenever possible. But being that Gideon knew him too from back home, it wasn't like she could avoid it much now. She nodded along, staring at the table. Beverly never really knew what went through their Mom's mind. A look of concern washed over her features. "Makeup? It was all over makeup?" She asked, giving his hand a squeeze when they were joined again. "That's so silly." She couldn't even imagine it. At least she be at least a little relieved he understood her when it came to new experiences. "Yeah, it is," she agreed, smiling and letting out a sigh as she stared at her tea. "I've been um-- I've been having all these experiences and I had all this guilt but in the process, I started dating someone. It's been a lot... recently."

Gideon nodded, smiling. That sounded like Beverly, for sure. "That's her. Do you work at the school, too?" He asked, though he wasn't a very suspicious person usually. He'd trust her blindly, if it meant there was a chance he could get home. And he did prefer being home with his sister, rather than stuck in a stranger's home. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd really appreciate that. I'm Gideon, by the way."

“Oh! Beverly! I think I know her. Blonde hair? Fifties vibe? Works at the school?” Hazel grinned. “I think I still have a copy of the school directory back at my place. You can come with me and we can give her a call to come pick you up? If it gets too late you can just stay over and she can come get you in the morning.”

Gideon hadn't really thought about it. He knew that gas stations almost always had free matches, but he wasn't sure if that would hold true in a place that couldn't just order more when needed. "That's true," he said finally, nodding. "Is there a way to make matches out here?" He asked curiously, cocking his head to the side. "That could be a lucrative business. If you ever run out of lighters."

"Probably not literally," Link mused. "But it's not like we can just go to the gas station and get a new one when one runs out or you misplace it, right? Unless a truck has come through here recently, or way less people need lighters for candles or cigarettes than I imagined."

mike being all cute as he excitedly talks about 20 sided dice 🥰

"Pretty sure I'd be a grandkid, they'd be old as fuck wouldn't they?" Or maybe he was wrong, time was weird here, and he didn't know what growing family dynamics were supposed to be like. He also wasn't sure what life expectancy was like in a world outside of Huntsville. Old people were slow and crazy, and that didn't bode well in a place that had to steer clear of murderous monsters. "What's Rosemary's baby?" Emrys asked, looking confused. "Have you seen any ghosts here? 'Cause I bet everyone who has died here was scared and angry about it. The ones that were killed at night, anyway. Ghosts don't just come out at night, do they? 'Cause sometimes I think those things in the woods are ghosts. But they're probably not. More like vampires, I guess," he said with a shrug. "I'd just go somewhere quiet and enjoy the rest of eternity as a ghost. You can go anywhere when you're a ghost, I bet."

Art furrowed his brows at the other. "Says you, you look you're the kid of one of 'em." There was still a part of him that was flattered but he definitely didn't want to say it. Honestly, he was still oddly weirded out and fascinated at the same time with the whole concept. "I've fucked with a couple Ouija boards-- you can't really tell whatever's using it to fuck you... Then again, I haven't really tried. Think that might end in a Rosemary's Baby situation." It would make for good content if he gave it a try but that hardly mattered in this place. "Eh, ghosts don't really have the same logic as us? They kinda... Lose it, over time. They're angry that they died and it kinda consumes them eventually. That's the theories I've read anyway." Part of that scared him, however. He believed he saw his own mother as a ghost. To think she was gone now wasn't something he liked to think about. Still, he chuckled. "Some of them do. I asked one of them what they were doing there and it replied, and I quote, your Mom... Sometimes they have fun too."

"Like, priestly things?" He asked, brow furrowing as he looked at Jacob. Emrys had no idea what Jacob did on a day-to-day basis. Was church-stuff an every-day thing, or was it part-time? It would be fair if it was only part-time, considering most people only cared about church for a couple hours one day a week. But Emrys was pretty sure Jacob put more than just a few hours into it. Priest-stuff seemed like the sort of thing someone had to deal with all the time, not just some of the time. He continued to follow Jacob to his office, mulling over the options. "I guess sundaes. Pie is weird, 'cause it tastes better when it's hot, but I feel like dessert is supposed to be cold."

Jacob laughed. "No, actually you'd be doing me a favor and saving me from anything else I'd have to be doing today." A million and one worries, but Jacob was elated to put 100% of his focus on something else. And doing something good for Emrys felt a lot better than anything else he needed to do for himself. Up the steps of the church now, he nodded to the small room in the back once they were inside. His gifts were with his things in that office area. "Are you more of a sundae person or a pie person? Your choice."

Finding what he was looking for, Emrys pulled his stealthier hand away and then finally let go of Card's jacket, shoving both of his hands now into his own pockets. "Nah, you keep it. It looks good on you. Anyway, I don't need more clothes or nothin'. Tryin' to keep the go-bag small, y'know? Easier for travelin'." As if there was anywhere Emrys could travel within Huntsville. Though it did make it easy if he ever needed to escape from the commune.

"Thrift sounds right. I always forget thrift stores are a thing," maybe it was the way forward when people could leave town, no longer spending so much money on nice clothes when the same thing could be a hidden gem in a thrift store. "Try it on if you want? I know there's a button lady around here somewhere that's probably good at changing the size of clothes." He paused, "found the label yet? Or did I cut it out? Might have been worn out when Penny bought it to be fair."

It was weird, and Emrys realized on some level that he was 'growing' as a person, because he was able to really reflect on the fact that he cared pretty deeply what other people thought of him. He'd told himself for his entire life that it didn't matter, and yet everything he ever said or did was an act. Likely an act to make people not want anything to do with him, but an act all the same. "But I don't know I'm not the bad guy," Emrys pointed out, trying to take in everything Dodger was saying, but knowing somewhere he'd lost the point of why he'd come here. What he wanted to tell the other. He didn't pull away from Dodger's hand, accepting the comfort, even sort of almost letting himself enjoy it. "Nobody said anythin'. I'm invisible at the commune. People aren't lookin' for me, so people don't see me. But shit just keeps gettin' crazier, and I feel like somethin' big is happenin', and I don't know if I want people to start seein' me or if I just wanna change what they'd be seein' if they did. Or somethin'."

Dodger's lips pressed together tightly, and he hummed in thought, seeing the obvious upset that Emrys was feeling, especially when he mentioned rumours and how fast they spread in this place, feeling that small pang of guilt in his stomach, not or Emrys personally, but how Dodger's involvement silently with the gossip column and the paper might be affecting people that way. But he couldn't think that way. He had a family to provide for now. "You're not a bad person," Dodger repeated back, hoping that someone else saying it would actually let the words sink in, "the shit people see in this town, back then and even now, makes people react. People run from scary shit. I barely move for like 20 out of 24 hours a day, but if one of those things looked at me, you know I'd sprint faster than you'd ever imagine." He shrugged, leaning back into the couch again. "It works both ways. The bad guys are the good guys of their own story, but that means that the bad guys think the good guys are the bad guys. I think I'm a good guy, some people obviously won't. But you ain't gonna please everyone. As long as you know you're not the bad guy, that you didn't do what they think you did, what the fuck does it matter?" He didn't have anything he could use as a relatable point in his own life, but if this were him going through it, Dodger assumed he wouldn't change his own stance. He knew Emrys wasn't a fan of physical contact, but he let his hand rest gently upon his back as he looked down, offering a small moment of comfort if he needed it. "Emrys," he said softly, "what's happened? Someone's obviously said something recently to upset you...you can talk to me, you know that right?"

Already starting to eat, Emrys held the bag back out to Draven, wanting to make sure he didn't take it all. "Wait, do you have raccoons at the soda shop? Outside? 'Cause I feel like I could befriend some raccoons. Get them to steal shit for me. Plan raccoon-heists," he grinned, shrugging. "There's a dude with a raccoon at the commune, but I don't see the raccoon too much. Motherfuckers are stealthy, I bet."

Draven wasn't going to outright say he had gotten them for Emrys; he knew his friend was far too proud for a direct handout. All the same, he smiled a little to himself. "No problem - better than going in the trash for the raccoons, right? Last thing the soda shop needs is a raccoon next in the roof because of too many leftovers."

@violenttempest

"I know I probably sound a little bit biased, but our mixed genetics? Top tier. Those babies are good looking little geniuses, they're gonna be freaking unstoppable," Lennon stepped up behind Liam, wrapping his arms around his best friend's waist and resting his chin on the other's shoulder with a grin. "Onyx crawled backwards today. Crawling forwards is, like, just around the corner, I can feel it." The other twin had been crawling for almost a week now, which was funny to Lennon. He hadn't really thought about the fact that the twins wouldn't be doing the exact same thing at the exact same time. And he was a little nervous about when they were both mobile, because that realization came with the new one that the twins were likely going to be moving in different directions. "How are you doing?" He asked after a silent moment or two, leaning his head so it was his cheek on Liam's shoulder, eyes searching his expression.

@backmaskcd

Izan shoved his hand into the ragged oven mitt he'd long ago painted a floral scene on, leaning over to pull a baking sheet out of the oven and placing it on top of the stove. Proudly, he smiled and looked over at Addison. "I think this may be our best batch of pretzels yet," he said, pulling his mitted hand away so he could take the mitt off. The pretzels were too hot to grab just yet, but he could still admire them, his bare hand floating a couple inches away from their handiwork so he could feel their warmth. "It was probably a better idea to keep the designs simple. Those flowers I tried to make last time were a bit too heavy," he admitted, his smile only growing.

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