hyunaseong·:

— setting: any weekday, lunch time — availability: open | @agnesstarters· ( 0/5 )

It had been the first warm day in weeks, and people in Islesbury seemed to be enjoying themselves in the sun. Granted, while Hyuna would have loved for this city to have higher temperatures, she was still sitting on a bench during her lunch break trying to soak up in any rays of sunlight she could get. A soft Korean R&B song played through her airpods (DPR Ian, her favorite), her food growing cold beside her, but she didn’t seem to be that bothered by it. Her eyes caught sight of something in the swings nearby and she instinctively reached for her sketch book, pencil moving easily over the page, letting herself be absorbed by the moment. It wasn’t until she felt a presence by her side that Hyuna was brought back to the presence. “Holy shit—” She clutched onto her sketch book and pencil, trying to recover from the slight scare. “Sorry… would you like to sit?” She bowed her head slightly while reaching for her food container to place it on her lap.

“sorry, didn’t mean to frighten you, sugar!” birdie apologises, but is gracious for the kind offer. she sits, holding the remains of her coffee to her bosom. she must have looked quite obvious to the other as she searched for a seat. but if there’s one thing birdie won’t do in her valentino skirt, is sit on the grass. as if! so, here she is, selfishly encroaching on the personal down-time of another. but truthfully, birdie could not sit for another moment in that office of hers. “i hope you don’t mind me sitting here like this, honey. it’s my lunch break, and i thought i was going to catch myself a case of those square eyes if i sat at my desk any longer!”

mischicvous·:

The uncomfortable silence that had already been in the room after Eugene learned that the unconscious man in front of him was his uncle. A man he had, at some point, come to fear. He hadn’t been aware that he was in the city, much less in the hospital where Eugene had taken a job. The silence became even more uncomfortable with Dan in it, too, though. Well, as long as it lasted. The squeaking of his shoes irritated him.

”I would.” It was silly to think Eugene would allow him to stay past visiting hours. They were there for a reason, after all. He took note of his uncle’s temperature before sticking the pen back in the already ruined white coat he was wearing. Trust this all to happen tonight when he was already stressed and uncomfortable enough.

A dry laugh escaped him at Dan’s words. Shaking his head he gives him a bemused look, his hand instinctively brushing through his hair. “Does it bother you that I didn’t have enough pomade in my hair?” The petty side of him hoped so, the other side… well, probably hoped so too. His hand lingered slightly by the equipment standing by his uncle’s side. “I didn’t know you had moved here, of all places. When did you?” He asked Dan, mostly out of curiosity. Eugene didn’t think he’d end up moving here himself had he known his family would be there.

he sighs a sigh that seems as if it had been dredged from the soles of his feet. daniel does wonder whether this is a moral situation - if the other decides to conduct a performance grand enough to have him removed, daniel shall provide the orchestra. he is sure that he could devour the fine print of the medical professional etiquette and sully his reputation.

hands clasped behind his back, he observes his cousin, and refrains from entertaining the attempt at witty provocations. “i have been here for some time,” he glances briefly at his father, noting the man’s pallid complexion. it was a relief to see him so peaceful, devoid of those angry creases. “there was an opportunity to expand my business.” 

he comes back to eugene. “but you are pretending. you must have known that i have been here, and that i have been incredibly successful in my endeavours. envy can be quite a worrisome emotion, be sure not to let it overwhelm you.”

lizzie-levine·:

Lizzie laughs at how voraciously he eats the croissant, she can understand, but it’s still funny. “Thank you, I try. As for a recipe book, maybe someday. I’m not nearly well known enough for that. Who would buy it except my family and you?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

The poem is… honestly not good. It ends on a weird internal rhyme for one thing. But no one else is reciting her poetry, so she’s willing to let it go and just enjoy it for what it is. No one else was being as sweet to her. “Thank you River, that was beautiful.”

“glad you think so,” he chirps, getting comfortable at the little station lizzie has got going on. he brushes at the denim of his jeans - this was his weakness. he loves all things patisserie, but it is the consequences of his gluttony that he is forced to deal with later that he abhors. 

“that’s cute, your family seem supportive,” his gaze lingers on people passing by, and he wonders with interest. river would never have cause to lay eyes on the majority that have gathered here, but the persistence of mother nature forced their hands. it’s quite admirable on her part. “are you close with them?” river asks.

gatheringswans·:

rohan.

a full face of scarf is definitely the last thing jax was expecting right now but, hey, at least it made his nephew laugh really loud so it can’t be that bad, right? jax catches the scarf in his hands and soon enough, its owner is right here with him. “hey, yeah, all good. might got lint in my mouth but i’m good. here,” he says and hands it over. “and that was so not funny, kid,” he turns to jake, who’s laughing again, which was jax’s goal anyway. he look at the other man again and nods at the entry to the town hall. “we’d better get inside. my hair’s about to freeze and we shouldn’t risk any more flying scarves.”

he is flush with embarrassment, and his apologies tumble profusely. “you know, the one day i don’t carry floss with me...” rohan manages a small smile, glad that the other had not taken offense. he looked like he could kick his butt, perhaps garrotte him with his beloved scarf like a victorian criminal. although, if that were to be his end, then it would be quite memorable. but not for him, of course. oh god, rohan thinks, my brain has turned to static. 

he follows obediently behind the older man and his nephew. “let me make that up to you,” rohan hastens. “here,” he gestures towards some abandoned camping chairs. “take a seat - hot chocolate, tea, coffee?”

overhxll​:

{ - }

It’s nice to see somebody with a positive disposition. Connor is far from the type to blame people for being stressed and frazzled under such conditions, but he would be lying if he said it hadn’t stressed and frazzled him even more than he already was. Since opening his store, patience has certainly become his favourite virtue, and watching Rohan take his seat reminds him of that.

“Yeah. Really… really weird,” he confirms, the exhaustion seeping into his smile a little bit. The blackout and the snowstorm have not been kind to Connor’s workload, and with the vast majority of his staff otherwise snowed out, he’s putting more hours in than ever. Still, he pushes on, and approaches an alcove off to the side, the majority of which is taken up by a large freezer. Thank goodness he’s managed to keep it powered. He lifts the lid with a little grunt of effort, and then peers inside, carefully taking in his stock. “What species are we looking at, here?” he asks, with a contemplative frown down at his options. The rational option seems to be to provide a week’s worth, just in case the power outage lasts longer than they’re all anticipating - and it never hurts to have a backlog. Lord knows that’s been his saviour through the blackout.

He pauses at the mention of High Score - it’s one of those things he passes every now and then, with a lasting, wistful stare. “Rohan… It’s–  it’s nice to meet you. I’m Connor, and I work… here. Well, I– it’s mine. My… store,” he pauses, with a little shake of his head. It’s harder to speak, generally, when it’s not strictly about the animals. “That must be fun. The… arcade. I’ve never been– well, I’ve never been to any of them, but… they look fun.”

“corn,” he grins, expectant, before shaking his curls at the mishap. “the snake, not like the ear. the ear of corn.” rohan stands and begins to wander, a curse he has forever been afflicted with. as a child, he was enamoured with all, and beneath the desks of his boyhood learning, his knee would thump against the wood. he is eternally restless.

“oh,” he is delighted to talk about high score - it is his pride and joy, despite it being worse for wear. it was in need of a severe update ; but in a bid to tempt in another customer that may politely ignore the number of ‘out of order’ signs, he is adamant. “it’s great fun. playing pac-man on my lunch break, not many could get away with that! you should really pop in one day.” he lightly touches the fur of a dog toy.

“but i’ll admit, it gets kinda... lonely, you know? everybody’s got their games on their phones these days. these app stores are giving all the good stuff away for free.” 

lizzie-levine·:

Lizzie would’ve given him the croissant for free, it’s an emergency after all, but the idea of a poem delights. “I think that’s a pretty good deal. I’ll take it. Here you go Shakespeare.” She laughed, handing River a warm croissant and waiting patiently for her poem, chin in her hand and eyes expectant but kind.

he is positively monstrous as he bites into it - flakes fly and attach to his day-old stubble, and his shirt becomes decorated with pastry. there is no polite way to consume a croissant, not for river, anyway. “as always, lizzie,” he smiles, “you’ve gone and knocked it out of the park.” he sits near, wiping at his sullied torso. “when are you publishing a recipe book? or are you keeping your secrets close to your chest?”

realising she was looking at him expectantly, he falters. “oh, yes, the poem.” his throat clears. “the snow falls, and the night draws close,” river pauses to think. “but do not have fear, for liz’ll make you some toast!”

pcranoid·:

joselyn   remains  neutral   on   the   raging   weather ,      sure   it   was   a   epic   pain   in   the   ass   but   she   didn’t   mind   the   cold   much .      finding   herself   nestled   amongst   other’s   in   town   hall   wasn’t   exactly   how   she’d   planned   on   spending   her   time   yet   here   she   was .      a   voice   catches   her   attention ,      gaining   a   quirk   of   brow .      ❝      I’M   AFRAID   NOT ,      did   you   have   plans   tonight ?      ❞      she   muses   with   a   curious   tilt   of   head .

“no,” he muses quietly. he was tempted to say yes ; but what normal, sane man admits to the fact that he intended to sit alone in his office, answering his emails because it felt more productive than going home? yes, he longed for those creature comforts, but he felt guilt when indulging in them. “which i should be grateful for, i suppose. i just hope this doesn’t last long.” he turns, “and yourself?”

luegner·:

       “i’m touched by the willingness to interrupt your tv time for me. my apologies that i had to ask you to step out into the cold.” jonathan tries to speak clearly but is easily defeated by the heavy stutter interrupting the fluent frequency in which he used to speak once. even now, after he’s already learned to live with this new version of himself for a while, the jumping of his jaw, disability of his tongue still feels uncomfortable. he tries to carry his obvious flaws with dignity, doesn’t want to lose pride, but he can’t help to still feel embarrassed at the lack of clear words leaving his mouth. “i wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important enough.

it’s good they met at the diner, maybe they would share a cup of coffee, eat dessert even though they never had lunch. forbidden but yet so delicious. “i have something for you.” he struggles through the sentence, arms now finding the red paper bag he had hidden behind the thick winter coat. the secret santa present is moved over the table and handed to her. it’s probably going to be the ugliest candle she’s ever see, he is sure she will say it when the present is unwrapped. but, jon had taken the time to make it. with his own hands! hands that had once ended lifes now were concerned with colorful wax. a far better occupation as he knew now after 12 years of horror.

“anything for you, doll,” birdie smiles. truth be told, she needed to get out more. but forever holed up in front of her computer, or consumed by the frivolities or temporary motherhood for troubled teens, she doesn’t have the time. she ponders the world of tinder, but she is too afraid of becoming attached, and then left behind. she blinks, shocked by the intrusion of those unwelcome thoughts, and brings herself back into the present. “now, i’m curious.”

she shifts on her chair, and her eyes alight with excitement. she adores surprises, and she loves gifts even more - this is a fact that she is unashamed of. “oh, jon! you shouldn’t have,” birdie’s age reverses: she is a child, the corner of her eyes creasing with how brightly she is smiling. birdie eagerly dips her hand into the gift bag, an unearths a candle. devoid of a label that she recognises, she holds it up to the light. it has quite a strange colour, and as she inspects it closer, birdie is reminded of mould. her smile does not falter - with years of experience, she has become an excellent liar. “this is so lovely, jon! thank you.” birdie sniffs the candle, before asking, “where did you get this from?”

kashmalouf·:

Kashir didn’t notice the man’s approach, instead focusing his attention on the scrape along the side of his hand and forearm. It probably wouldn’t have stung so badly if he hadn’t slipped so close to the patch of rock salt that he himself had spread around his car. He had hoped to prevent the heavy onslaught of snow from packing into ice around the vehicle, but it just created another problem for him in the end. But, when all was said and done he didn’t mind the stinging red scrapes or the uncomfortable clinging of the side and back of his wet pants as they were a small price to pay to make sure there was enough food to go around during the storm. 

His brown eyes shifted to his new neighbor sitting beside him, and as they spoke Kashir was instantly reminded that he really hadn’t been inside long enough to return to a comfortable temperature. This spurred him to accept the cup of cocoa in an instant, not so much to drink but rather to press his frigid fingers against the warm sides of the paper cup. “Yeah, I just got in,” Kash admitted, pulling his right hand away and wiping a bit of the grime and moisture off of it before holding it out to shake. “Kashir–or just Kash is fine honestly.” He lifted the cup off cocoa as he added, “ I appreciate it.” 

river grins in his usual gap-toothed way, and he shakes the hand of the other a touch too hard. his grip is always unnecessarily rough; river does not intend for it to be, but the subconscious brute in him, the one that would brawl as an adolescent, sometimes rears its head in situations that require him to parade as a polite and refined member of society.

“nice to meet you, kashir.” he gets comfortable. “i’ve seen you around once or twice, and i’ve always wanted to come and say hi. you shivering like you’ve just come back from an arctic expedition gave me a great opportunity to do so.” river nudges kashir’s shoulder. “how are you holding up with all of this?”

connoroverthehill·:

{ - }

Major power outages are never great for businesses, even less so when said businesses are home to several disadvantaged animals that don’t know any better. Such disasters force people like Connor to make choices, and so he’s allocated what resources he has where he feels they’re most needed. The generator is reserved accordingly for the back of the store, keeping the helpless animals from facing the brunt of the cold, while Connor braves the storefront in his full winter regalia. Big puffy coat, cat-patterned scarf, bobble-hat - the works. There’s a reason for it, of course; deliveries aren’t likely to come through until the new year, and something’s got to keep the residents fed. He’s in the middle of trying to figure out whether his cat food rations will last him a full week when the door goes, and the numbers disappear with a little internal poof.

Connor stands back up, and takes a look at the first patron he’s seen in days. “Oh,” he blinks, staring at the carrying case, wincing at the thought of the poor thing in the cold. “Oh– okay, uh… hold on,” he hurriedly sets down the packets of cat food he’d been clutching on to. Some scatter, and he has to do his own strange little version of a hop-scotch to pass by them without tripping, but he makes it to the door to the back. “Here, come in… It’s freezing out here. Just– go ahead and take a seat, and we can figure out what you’re going to need. Does… Does that sound okay?”

he scurries in, closing the door behind him quickly. the bell protests against the fervour, but rohan doesn’t apologise - he feels dreadfully hypothermic. he removes his gloves by pulling at the fingertips with his teeth, and proceeds to blow into his freezing palms. 

rohan follows the voice, his eyes darting wildly. he loves animals, and his jealousy keenly seeps, reminding him of how his lackluster ambitions has left him in a rut. truly, rohan did not know what his purpose is, and he is envious of people that have discovered theirs.

he sits, grinning broadly. “that’s fine! please, take your time. things are weird right now, right?” he delves his hands into the fleeced pockets of his jacket. “i just need a couple of mice. or whatever else you have to feed a hungry snake. i’m rohan, by the way, i work over at high score.”

luegner·:

@ofrovers··       /       he passed him briefly, the bitterness still there even though it had started to mix with irony again. “i hope you had a shitty christmas.” the brunette whispered, blue hues glancing at daniel before he was ready to turn his back on him again and to mingle with other people at the shelter. a playful hatred. he enjoyed it, milked it. mainly because he was sure the other one was far more annoyed by his existence than the other way around. but also partially because the more attention he got the more fulfilled he felt.

daniel turned, taking a moment to register the comment. the cold made him sluggish - he wished he were home, warmed by soup and the burn of whiskey. “hello to you, too.” he returned with a raised eyebrow. however, it did not take long until the familiar trickle of contempt flooded in. “glad to see that the cold has driven the rat from his sewer.” despite the situation as a whole, the sudden vehemence of william brought a slight tilt to his mouth.

who: @luegner​​ where: daybreak diner

birdie was suspicious. out of the blue, jonathan hawthorne, the jonathan hawthorne, requested her presence. she is certainly not complaining, but this has prompted some worrying anxieties. has he found himself a girlfriend and needs help picking flowers? has the poor mite forgotten how to tie his shoelaces? either way, birdie had a spring in a step, and a blush to her cheeks.

she is propelled inside the diner by a gust of blustery snow infused wind, and flakes cling to her hair. frostbitten, she keeps her scarf wound tight to her neck until she warms up. “you better have a good reason for bringing me out into the cold, mister,” birdie slides opposite, the leather of the booth seat squeaking as she did so. “i was halfway through a re-run of it’s a wonderful life. it’s the third time i’ve watched it this week, which is the only reason why i’m being complicit in this rendezvous.”

Hello, 911? *twirls phone cord around finger* sooooo how was your day? Did you arrest any bad guys?…No you hang up first! Hello? 911?

who: @abeyances​ where: town hall, perched on plastic chairs.

“it’s all quite romantic, isn’t it?” her gaze is cast on others; some sitting in solitude, others conversing with people that before tonight, were far from their social circles. birdie revels in the sense of community that the storm has created, but it brings home the fact that despite all of the advantages of modernity, nobody is safe from mother nature. “now is your chance to tell me if your crush is here - i am in the mood to play cupid.” 

who: @lizzie-levine where: town hall

river’s stomach grumbles loudly, ironically thunderous in the wake of current circumstance. he is a schoolboy, edging quietly, but not very covertly, where the resident baker resides. river’s grin is sheepish, and his eyes are telling as they dart to lizzie, and then to the baked goods. “i don’t have much to offer in return,” he begins, “but i’ll recite you a poem for a croissant.”

who: @gatheringswans​ where: outside, beneath a shelter

his scarf had somehow unravelled as he dithered with the zip of his coat. it took to the wind, and he watched agape, as it darted and twisted, to land smack bang in the middle of their face. it wound its way around their head, as if his dear old scarf had a life of its own. rohan is mortified, and he stumbles forward, his hands wild with apology.

“i am so, so sorry! oh my g-- are you okay? wow this is... i mean, what are the chances? could i... have that back though, please?”