pipparossi

[pipparossi]

Pippa's mouth widened into a smile against her will, surprisingly feeling more amused than embarrassed over Tyler repeating her blunder. She pushed at his arm and shook her head lightly in playful disapproval of his teasing before paying attention once more.

"Only... slightly," she answered in response to Tyler's question of being 'chickenshit'. She leaned in closer, wanting to get a better look at the firecracker he chose. "Definitely looks more intimidating than a sparkler though..." Regardless, it still intrigued her, fascinated by being so close to something she largely considered dangerous. Jack certainly did its job lowering her inhibitions.

When he handed the firecracker over to her, Pippa felt like someone dumped a bucket of cold water over her head. She blinked and her eyes widened, as if to say 'Me? You're giving that to me?'. Like she couldn't possibly be responsible for such a thing. Even once the firecracker was in her hand and he was giving her instructions on where to set it off, disbelief still lived heavily in her chest.

"I..." She looked back and forth between Tyler and the part of the road he said she could set it off on. It was when he handed her a lighter that she finally snapped out of it just enough. Her brows pulled together as she took it with her other hand, shamelessly getting a closer look at the chesty woman on the device. Not out of interest, just out of curiosity. It felt like the type of photo Matt would be caught gawking at before vehemently denying he was doing such a thing. Men. "Quite an outfit," she remarked. "You're really keeping in with the theme here." What passed for appropriate design these days was beyond her.

Maybe it was thinking of Matt and his lewd tastes or feeling oddly provoked by the sight of a woman wearing their country's flag on her bikini, it gave Pippa the confidence to give this crazy thing a try. "If this goes south and takes off my fingers, do find and keep them will you?" She told Tyler before heading down the dirt road they were on. Once she reached the spot he mentioned, the thought crossed her mind that she should have asked more questions. For one, if there was anything else to the damn thing besides lighting it. Nothing to twist or peel away? Pyrotechnics and her mind feeling loose and limitless was a terrible combination. She was about to do this thing without a second thought or proper instruction. Well, here goes nothing.

The moment the fuse of the firecracker was lit, it started to smoke. Pippa found herself staring at it bewilderedly for two seconds too long before she realized she was staring at a lit firecracker and tossed it away from her, running back to Tyler. She shrieked when she heard the first loud pop! on the way back, quickly finding herself hiding behind him and gripping his arm because she was so tense with fear. The crackles sounded like freaking gun shots. The loud noises sobered her up real quick. "How is this supposed to be fun?" She asked in the middle of it going off, not even remotely interested in peeking out from behind him.

Taru was, at once, both an older brother and a younger one. It would’ve gone against his nature not to repeat her flub: “Well I haven’t dragged these here pyronetics over for nothing.” He grinned down at the bin, feeling a fluttery kind of excitement; the kind that started at the tips of your fingers. It wasn’t the same swooping, heart-hammering, stomach-rolling type he’d sought over and over again until his body couldn’t take it much longer, but – it was something.

His days had turned monotonous over the past couple of years. The most exciting thing he got up to was smashing glass in the woods. This was different. He dug into his jeans pocket for the familiar feel of his lighter, then pulled it out to flick it on and off a couple times – testing to see if it’d gone empty. The company was different, too. Pippa Rossi was engaged to a grade-A douchebag, but that didn’t make her any less pretty. And it didn’t hurt to have a pretty girl around. The lighter flicked on then off again. It usually didn’t hurt, anyway.

“Not too chickenshit?” he asked jokingly, then reached for one of the packaged firecrackers. Start with something standard and generally inoffensive. “These ones’re as dangerous as those sparklers they handed out at the Solstice.” They were the kinds they used to plant under cars parked outside Hometown Hot Dogs or Pizza Hut to scare the shit out of people. They called it chicky bombing – the origin of the name long forgotten. He handed the firecracker over to Pippa.

“You can set it down in the middle of the road here,” he said, gesturing to the rocky, dirt road where they stood and then, after a half-second, held out the lighter to her too. He belatedly noticed that it was one of the stupid ones he picked up at the Hot Stop with ugly graphics; this one had an American flag bikini-clad woman on it. Well… in for a penny or whatever the fuck. “You’ll be needin’ this.”

#thread / taru.

[pipparossi]

When Tyler opened the rusted metal box to reveal what seemed like the most random collection of knick knacks and a few dollar bills, Pippa found herself pressing her lips together. At first glance, you'd assume it was junk. But the Get Well Soon card and beaded bracelet told her a different story. Then Tyler pushed the lid down shut, saying something or the other about that there being all for him. She didn't take him for the sentimental type. It made her regard him a tilted head - curious, wondering - until he called for her presence outside of the car.

She could tell the whiskey was getting to her. The moment she stood up fully, she felt a wave of lightheadedness she's never quite experienced so starkly. It made her extra mindful of the way she moved, not wanting to come off sloppy and alert Tyler of her very low alcohol tolerance. When she was a stride or so short of him again, she playfully narrowed her eyes at him before walking up to the plastic bin to see what was inside.

"I... wow." Wow was definitely the word. She could not have guessed this is what Tyler had left behind in that derelict old barn. "I mean, I can't say I've spared much thought about low level pyronetics. I mean, pyrotechnics," she corrected herself — mentally cursing the alcohol — before pressing on, "but... I like them?" She offered. She'd only ever enjoyed fireworks during the Fourth of July display, and always at a distance. She didn't think she's ever been this close to an actual firework before. "You really gonna set this off?" It wasn't even a holiday, just a random Friday night. It felt silly and dangerous and... exciting.

Rossi dropped a bomb before she continued to answer his question – it was honest, maybe a slip, the kind that eked through with a bottle of Jack in hand. He didn’t think he was meant to touch it or if he was, well. Taru frowned a little to himself but didn’t say anything. The fuck was there for him to say anyway? He stayed focused on the bin in front of him, opening it as she spoke. The rusted metal box was passed through the driver’s side window and onto his seat and he leaned through the window to flip it open for her to see.

Inside, was a small mason jar left on its side. Stuffed inside, were hand-rolled cigarettes – a few might’ve had a little weed in them, but the potency would’ve worn away by the time he reclaimed it. There were also a couple of mini bottles stolen from the Hot Stop, baseball cards, an ugly homemade beaded bracelet, a Get Well Soon card, a half-eaten pack of bubblegum, $20 in ones and fives, and… mostly junk. A lot more junk. But most of it was important to him. He snapped the lid closed again. “Don’t get any ideas now. All that right there’s for me,” he said as if any of it would be particularly tempting to her.

He extracted himself out of the window again, nodding toward the bin at his feet. “This is for you.” Taru tapped the toe of his boot against the plastic, then looked over at Pippa, sitting patient and poised and a little pink-cheeked in the passenger seat. He cleared his throat. "Are you gonna get your ass back out here and say thank you for the birthday present I’ve so thoughtfully provided?” Inside the dry storage bin, packed away safely, were four firecrackers, two Mad Dog fountains, and a single Roman candle. He paused a second. “I know the slashers and ticks scared you off, but where d'ya stand on low-level pyrotechnics?”

#thread / taru. #me just realizing i completely misread your previous reply but you improvise adapt overcome'd my 1am comprehension like champ sjdsh #sorry and thank you legend forgive me xoxo

[pipparossi]

Pippa gave herself credit for waiting till Tyler was somewhat out of sight before she unscrewed the cap from the bottle of Jack and took a swig. Fearlessly and carelessly, just like she'd seen the boys do back in high school. She quickly realized it was a mistake. Her throat burned, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to will away the overwhelming bitterness in her mouth. "Shit." Maybe whisky really was supposed to be sipped to be enjoyed.

Pippa pulled open the passenger door and got back inside of Tyler's car. She felt silly and exposed waiting right by it, out on the open road. She also really didn't want to be on her feet needlessly after the day she's had. Once the door was firmly shut with crisp whump, a sigh shot out of her. She was still recovering from that swig. The taste was gradually becoming more dull but now she just felt warm all over her chest. "Heavens..."

It was strange being in someone else's car without them. Pippa stared at the driver's seat for a beat, hoping Tyler would come back sooner than later, before her eyes wandered to the backseat and she jumped a little at the sight she came across. "Oh my—" She'd forgotten about Tyler's furry friend. "Well, hey there. Sorry if I'm botherin' you. He'll be back soon. He's just..." Did she want to explain what Tyler was doing? "...he's getting something. Be back any moment now," she assured the dog. Not that it seemed to care. Or understand. Was she really talking to a dog? The thought alone had Pippa lifting the bottle to her lips for another swig. More modest than the one before. She hated the flavor all the same. "God, Momma, if you could see me now..."

She spent the rest of her wait just sitting, staring at the road ahead with only the sound of crickets — and Tyler's fluffy dog — to keep her company. If the thought of another drink of Jack crossed her mind, the better part of her brain decided against it. Probably a good thing too. As the minutes passed, she was sure the gulps she took were beginning to settle in her head. She was feeling quite warm as well.

Tyler's return came with a welcome feeling of relief. "Back in one piece and tickless. Look at you." With a rusted metal box to show for it. Pippa tilted her head as she regarded the container. She couldn't begin to imagine what might be inside. "Better than anyone's treated me in years." The answer fell out of her a little too easily. Whoops. "And yes. Very warm. Maybe a little too warm actually." It was then that she remembered she could shrug off the cardigan she was wearing and so she did. "What did you forget in the barn? Something to share with the class?" She asked once the cardigan was off and haphazardly folded on her lap.

Are you trying to get me in there or keep me out? He shrugged. At this point, he didn’t even know – but he knew that he didn’t plan to fuck up her birthday just because he wasn’t properly house-trained and couldn’t navigate more than an hour of someone’s time. It was difficult not to compare the night to a million others set in different places with different people. She was an acquaintance at best. This shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Taru took the knife from her when she offered it back and put it in his pocket. He listened to the explanation about Sullivan’s apparent absence from tomorrow and didn’t really care, wasn’t sure why he asked, and regretted saying his name again. He remembered something that he hadn’t thought of in… Christ, it’d been years. The last night he barged his way into Pippa Rossi’s bedroom to get the blood wiped from his face. A rejected offer, a shithead’s way of dealing with it. Something-something leopards and spots. Mary, mother of God, he needed to wrap this part up.

Taru managed not to scuff his feet like a flustered, discontented six-year-old, but it was close. And then, he smiled again – joking, basically friendly – and said facetiously: "Don’t tell me what to do.” But then he headed off to his destination anyway. When he got inside the barn, he was pleased it looked the same. It hadn’t actually been that long since he’d been there with Randy. They came by a little after his son had been born, a means to celebrate… and a way to regress for a few hours.

The hay barn was old, dirty, and filled with what two boys (and often, one girl) from the ages of 10 onward considered their treasures. They had their hideout in the woods by their houses, where they smashed shit and drank stown-away beer, but the barn was like a museum dedicated to adolescence. It was probably a good thing Rossi didn’t come along, he thought, as he opened a bin tucked under fallen lumber and found a short pile of water-logged skin mags. Taru let out a low whistle, moving the glow of the flashlight around until he saw what he was looking for.

A smallish, tan-colored dry storage box, firstly, and then a rusted metal box on top of it. He crouched in front of them, and with the flashlight secured between his teeth, he took the Swiss Army knife out of his pocket. There was a lock on the metal box, for which they’d lost the key a long time ago. He opened the thinnest tool on the pocket knife and put it in the lock with the blunt side facing the tumblers. Carefully, he turned it a bit and jiggled it up and down with well-practiced ease until the padlock fell loose in his palm. He grinned boyishly to himself and lifted the lid – “Fuck yeah.” He snapped it shut again and opened the dry storage box, to double-check things were in order there too. So far, so good.

Once everything was accounted for, he got excited again. The rusty box was dropped carefully inside with the dry storage, and then he lifted the latter to bring it back to the car. Back by his old Camaro, he lowered the box with far more care and caution than he showed most things, grinning wildly around the flashlight still between his teeth. He opened the door, tossed the flashlight onto the seat, and then lifted his foot onto the top of a tire. Taru leaned over, grabbed the hem of his black jeans, and lifted it to expose his ankle for inspection. A quick, cursory look for show, interrupted by a glance sideways at Rossi, and then he dropped it.

“No ticks,” he announced proudly then had both feet back on the dirt road. The door closed and he kept his hand on the car’s roof as he nodded to the bottle in her hands. “So how’s Jack been treating ya?” He tapped the dinged-up metal, then took a step back to re-address what he brought. “All warmed up?”

#thread / taru. #i pretend i do not see the Biddies

[pipparossi]

At the mention of ticks, Pippa made a face at Tyler. "Are you trying to get me in there or keep me out?" If she was hesitant about going in there before, she almost certainly didn't want to go in there now. "Dry ice bombs?" She repeated. Now those are some words she never thought to put together. "Can't say I've had the pleasure," she admitted. Pippa couldn't imagine what a person would do with such a thing.

All this because Tyler wanted to retrieve something he'd left in a derelict barn? God in Heaven, she'd never understand this man. She gave a soft shake of her head before walking over, coming to a stop just short of him to take in the look on his face before she held out the pocket knife. "I'll stick by the car," she told him. Not because she was scared. The idea of possibly dealing with ticks just didn't seem appealing to her.

Pippa let out a soft huff. 'Grown up.' Maybe once upon a time, when she was eighteen and eager to be taken seriously, she would have been thrilled someone described her and Matt's activities that way. But now? She thought Tyler might as well have called it 'boring'. At least then it'd be honest.

"He's..." Not in my life anymore. More interested in a busty Resident than he'd ever be in me. So many real, true things she could have said. But instead, Pippa continued to stoke the fire that was her hot mess of a life and make her lies burn brighter. "...overseas. Doing a stint with Doctors Without Borders. There won't be any grand gestures to look forward to unfortunately." The lies settled uneasily in her stomach. She didn't meet Tyler's eyes when she said them, taking a beat to pretend to care about what was beneath her shoes. She hoped it passed for disappointment, over being reminded that her 'fiancé' couldn't make her big day.

Gosh, she really didn't want to feel like this. Pippa was sorely missing sitting by the bar at the Windy Shot right about now. Though one look at her hands reminded her that she had a whole bottle of Jack in her possession. Yeah, she was definitely going to have another sip or twelve of him. "I'm gonna go keep warm with Jack by your car." She chucked a thumb over her shoulder as she turned toward it. "Hurry back. Wouldn't want you to miss out on enjoying his company."

Taru let out a short, quiet huff of surprise at the mention of gruesome slashers. “Your biggest threat out here’s the ticks,” he started, then stopped. His eyes tracked her expression, her sincere hesitancy and dubiousness – and he suddenly felt all those years between them. Well, shit. Now he felt stupid, which was way worse than feeling like an asshole. He sighed, glanced toward the barn where it stood looking the same as it ever did (old, weathered, forgotten), then faced Pippa again. “Randy and I used to set off dry ice bombs out here – you ever make those?” They’d come out here when Randy’s mom got too naggy, or Taru’s grandparents started to ask them to do too much shit around their house. It was away from what, as kids, felt like dictatorial rule.

But setting off dry ice bombs wasn’t the only thing they got up to. They’d play something they dubbed Fire Prevention Week – setting little fires with the sole purpose of extinguishing them, or looking for stray bullets in the woods from hunters to toss into the embers, hooting and hollering at the sound of the explosive shrapnel. There was also a creek a little behind the barn where they’d get to fishing. If anyone caught a bluegill or a perch, they’d fling it into the road and hide in the trees as they watched it wriggle and wait for a car to approach. The goal? Startle the driver and, if the fish got run over, watch it pop like a balloon. All kids were sick fucks, in their defense. He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth as he thought. For all intents and purposes, to Taru, this was almost sacred ground.

"Whatever. I want to grab some shit we left in that barn,” he begrudgingly explained. Her exasperation was amusing, sure, but the holdup was less than ideal. Practicing patience was something that had been on his to-do list for the better part of a decade and this part, as he imagined, was meant to be smooth sailing. Maybe he’d followed Randy into too many shitty old graveyards and wet, echoing caves without much questioning, and now expected a similar acceptance when it was his turn to lead the way. What a bunch of horseshit. “You can stick by the car if you’re too scared,” he offered plainly, not all too adept at comfort or looking apologetic, “but then I’m gonna need the knife back.”

I was working for most of it actually. That didn’t shock him – especially after he heard about her packed schedule in college. Work. Dinner. Dessert. Necklace. What did shock him was that he didn’t know what to say. 'Sullivan still sounds boring as all fuck’? 'Was it actually your 79th birthday?’ 'On my last birthday, I waited all day for my ex-girlfriend to call but she never did and then my dementia-addled grandpa said some crazy racist shit that had something to do with Pearl Harbor’? Taru sniffed absently and looked up toward the stars for a brief moment.

He kept thinking that if this was Randy he was talking to, this is what he would say. If this was Mary, if this was John, if this was Min, if this was Steph – Taru rolled his eyes at himself. Since when did he hesitate to say the first thing that came to mind, no matter who he was talking to? “Well, shit. That sounds real grown up,” he settled on. Grown-up and very… straightforward. The truth. He let out a tch sound. “Sullivan driving out here tomorrow to recreate that lovely picture of domestic bliss you just painted?” He couldn’t entirely keep the sarcasm out of his voice but he was old, wise, and well-trained enough now to give it a go so it barely eked through. “I know the number’s under lock and key, but I’ve heard it called a milestone.”

#thread / taru.

[pipparossi]

Pippa gave a roll of her eyes at his answer. For all Tyler said, she didn't feel any closer to understanding why holding the knife was necessary at all. It was a little infuriating but she got the sense that Tyler was getting a kick out of this, so she didn't let it get to her quite yet. "I'm supposed to feel privileged about this, am I?" She let out an amused huff before shaking her head.

At his question, Pippa looked down to take herself in. With the exception of the bottle of whiskey and knife in her hands, she'd say she looked glaringly average, right down to her comfy work sneakers. "Cool," she echoed his word choice, "is not the word I'd use. Perhaps deranged?" She offered lightheartedly, a pitiful chuckle falling out of her a moment after. Quite frankly, she looked like a woman who realized she was about to turn thirty and decided to end it all. Morbid but not entirely inaccurate.

Her brows set in a soft frown as she watched Tyler start toward the field. As 'thrilling' as a situation like this might be to some people, it was more so concerning for Pippa. She wasn't exactly keen on following him into an open field in the dead of the night without a little more context. "Tyler, what are we doing?" She finally asked, a faint exasperation evident in her voice. "I'm not taking a step closer to that field until you tell me. I don't know how many horror movies you've seen, but I've seen a few gruesome slashers that start just like this." That was about as gently as she could highlight the dubious reality they found themselves in.

His question threw her off, her apprehension distracted by a prickle of annoyance at his word choice. Pathetic. It didn't sit right with her. She was sure he didn't mean it that way — he couldn't have, right? — so she did her best to brush the feeling aside by indulging his curiosity. "I was working for most of it actually," she revealed. A night shift she felt in her bones that finished on the morning of her birthday. She barely had the energy to enjoy the small cake her shift mates surprised her with.

"Then Matt and I had dinner," she continued on, recalling the rest of the day as her eyes wandered toward the night sky. An 8:30 reservation at a restaurant 15 minutes from their apartment. It was uninspired. Filled with an awkward tension that was palpable. Looking back, she knew it then but was in denial — the two of them were teetering toward the end. "He got me a necklace. We split a dessert. It was all pretty... standard."

Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was her frustration with the bitter memories and Tyler being tight-lipped. She was being honest to the point of carelessness. Whatever it was, it surely wasn't the way someone should be talking about a birthday celebration with their supposed fiancé. Gosh, she wished she could just take the afternoon all those lies spilled out of her mouth back. Too late now though wasn't it? To her dismay, Pippa made an attempt at saving her pathetic ruse. Maybe Tyler was right to associate that word with her after all. It was far more appropriate than 'cool'. "We've just been together for so long, you know? Plus with our line of work, it's hard to be excited about anything other than sleep."

Communication. Taru scoffed like it was laughable, both self-aware and stubborn on the subject, and felt a kernel of amusement at Pippa even mentioning it. He spun the flashlight between his fingers then caught it in his palm, flicking it on without much more ceremony. The light cut a path that caught on Pippa’s elbow and then shot through the half-trodden field behind her.

“Aren’t you the responsible one?” he asked semi-rhetorically, not doing much better in the communication department but having fun with his own deficiency – even more fun now that he knew it may be a source of some annoyance. “I’m tryin’ my hand at sensibility here,” he continued, letting his voice go low and slow as he explained. “The most responsible gets to handle the sharp objects.”

Taru looked her up and down, taking stock of Phillipa Rossi with a bottle of liquor and a pocket knife in hand and liking the look of it, then joked like he didn’t mean it: “C’mon. Don’t you feel a little badass?“ He scratched at his cheek as he fought to restrain an amused expression. "This has gotta be the coolest you’ve ever looked.” If it had been Randy in front of him it would’ve been least lame. He tucked his car keys into his jacket pocket, then started in the direction of the field. The flashlight didn’t feel totally necessary under the bright, white summer moon, but experience told him it would be soon.

As he walked he did wonder, absently, if she were the type to dig her heels in and demand a better explanation from him. For all the short-lived moments he spent with her, Taru wouldn’t delude himself into thinking he could predict Pippa’s every move. But she didn’t seem real go with the flow. He was certain he’d given her good enough warning at least: You’re back in the boonies, Rossi. Maybe she already had an idea. Maybe he was about to get badgered.

"So how’d this day play out last year?” he asked abruptly. “Not as pathetic as how I found you?” he asked in a tone that was either a friendly tease or wryly mocking, depending on how the listener heard it. A good ear might’ve noticed he didn’t say fuckin’ pathetic, which was a significant giveaway.

#thread / taru. #teehee<3

[pipparossi]

Hearing Tyler bring up his old reliable of 'soap and water', Pippa gave him a concerned look. "You're really not still doing that are you? That can be harmful to healing skin. It can cause irritation. And it can slow the healing process," she warned. "If you really want to cut down all the fuss—" Not that she thought he should. "—the least you can do for yourself is salt water."

Gosh, she felt like such a mom, but the idea of Tyler still doing that to treat his injuries made her feel queasy. She wasn’t stressing about his subpar form of tending to himself for long though. Because soon he was leaning over and her train of thought drained right out of her head. He wasn’t terribly close, but it was closer enough to distract her as she watched him knock open his glove department and fish out of bag of… Was that peanut M&Ms? She let out a small sound of surprise when he dropped it on her lap unceremoniously, her grip instinctively tensing around the bottle of Jack he’d ask her to hang onto earlier.

Pippa wanted to ask what he was doing, but a question right in this moment felt like an appalling disruption to his seemingly important rummaging. Her eyes widened when he procured a pocket knife. Of course, Tyler Kobayashi would have a pocket knife in his car. Why was she surprised? Tentative, she took it from him when he asked her to, not a single query out of her mouth why he had it or needed it in the moment in the first place. It felt strange to hold in her hand, and a little dangerous. But she couldn’t deny that the unfamiliarity was came with a thrum of excitement just beneath her skin. She’d held sharp objects before – kitchen knives, scalpels – but this felt different and entirely new.

Hearing his voice, she was drawn right back into their conversation, turning her head to look at him. There was a grin sat on his mouth again. A little different than the one before. She thought right then that she quite liked when Tyler looked something other than coolly disinterested. When he took the keys out of the ignition and moved to get out of the car, Pippa found herself blinking out of whatever reverie she might have fallen in. The guilt for staring a little too long followed shortly after. She’d blame that on whatever whisky sat in her belly from The Windy Shot.

Making sure she had a good grip on the neck of the bottle of said whisky, she turned to her own door and pushed it open to get out, hopping out onto the road. She welcomed the cool feeling of the night air on her skin. With a look around, she didn’t feel any closer to knowing where they were. She briefly wondered if this was one of the places Tyler found himself at all those years ago, collecting scrapes and bruises like he was paid for it. She circled around to the front of his truck before finally speaking. “To answer your question: Communication, I would say.” She let that bold as brass answer sit for a beat before she continued on. “Why on Earth am I holding this knife?” She finally asked, bringing attention to the weapon in her hand. Bottle of liquor in one hand, knife in the other, anyone who knew Pippa would be sorely confused if they saw her right now.

Taru realized he hadn’t told Pippa where they were or why they were there, but he also had the unfortunate habit of enjoying the act of keeping someone in the dark. It was a skill he perfected with his sister – he always left her hanging, waiting for an answer or a clarification. She’d actually called him two days ago and left a droning, disapproving message on his machine. He didn’t call back, but he also hadn’t deleted it yet. Hina had once said that Taru was almost tolerable when he was behind the wheel of a car. Maybe that’s why Pippa, in contrast to Hina, would get an answer much sooner.

His right eyebrow joined the other in inching upward as Pippa continued. Tongue poking out to prod at the corner of his mouth, the heel of his palm knocking against the steering wheel, Taru unexpectedly folded and looked forward through the windshield for a moment. The one working, dim, and moth-ridden street lamp didn’t do all that much when it came to illuminating the road ahead of him without the aid of the bright summer moon. He let his head fall back against the headrest, then tilted his face to look at her again. “I’m not one of those bleedin’ heart assholes, yunno,” he started drolly, “but I ain’t stingy neither.” When she brought up wound-cleaning, he snorted and rolled his eyes with perfunctory derision that he didn’t sell half as well as he did at 18.

“Still don’t think I’ve got soap and water down pat?” he asked, purposefully simplifying the process. Suddenly, he straightened and then leaned a little toward her, but still kept a careful distance, reaching over her lap to access the glove compartment. He usually got bored sitting still for too long and right then he felt particularly antsy all of a sudden, fingers itching to mess with the window crank or fiddle with the radio dial, and he had a thought on his mind. Taru knocked the side of his fist against it, then pulled it open. Inside, right on top, there was a mess of empty cigarette cartons, a broken pair of sunglasses, an odd-colored rock the little baby Briar had given him, and an unopened bag of peanut M&Ms.

First, he grabbed the bag of candy and dumped it into Pippa’s lap, and then continued to sift through the items until he found what he looked for: a small flashlight and a Swiss Army knife. When he was finished, he closed the compartment and held out the folded-up knife between his middle and forefinger. “Hold onto this?” he prompted, falling back into his seat. He had been able to, faintly, smell what might’ve been her shampoo. Very quickly, he decided he couldn’t sit there much longer without the engine humming under him—no stretch of road to distract him.

“What other skills do you think I’m so sorely lackin’?” He grinned again then, a little toothy, a little sharp, and a whole lot like a dare. The keys were pulled out of the ignition and then his door was pushed open. Brusque and impatient with the world at large, he moved to stand on the dusty road.

#thread / taru. #i..... do not know what happened. i did not mean to match. we're just gonna teehee<3 our way through this sjdhkdfj

[pipparossi]

Pippa wasn't sure what to expect when she agreed to a drive with Tyler. She certainly didn't predict coming to a stop at some desolate road. To one side, the landscape offered little, with a row of trees and a partly-paved sidewalk losing a battle to some roots. Though to the right was another story. There was an abandoned barn stood on a vast open field, dark hills in the distance. It wouldn't be much to most people, but for Lockhorn County, it was almost... beautiful. She'd forgotten that that it could look like that here.

Tyler's grin prompted a smile from Pippa. She watched him for a moment — perhaps a bit too long — until she realized maybe she was supposed to. It was then that her focus shifted from his face to hands, taking in how he released the clutch and then the gear lever only after the engine came to a stop completely. At the sound of his voice, her eyes found his face again, amused by the sight of his raised brow.

"Might be," she said, even she absolutely was. "What's the going rate for an hour of Tyler Kobayashi's time these days?" She asked, shifting in her seat so her body was more angled toward him. "You know, I have some skills I can teach myself. To trade. You ever learn to clean a wound properly after all these years?" Looking at him then, she could still picture him: eighteen and bloodied, visiting her in the dead of the night. She never got the details, what he'd done or where he'd just come from. Just that he needed some cleaning and patching up. And she always did help.

I had no idea you guys were together. Taru shrugged, distracting himself by glancing in the rearview mirror at the peacefully sleeping dog. He and Steph started to date halfway through what would’ve been his senior year, so Pippa definitely wouldn’t have seen much of them together. But they’d been good friends before that. They were friends for a long time. Taru scratched at his jawline. “Yeah,” he said uselessly, not bursting to share any other information on the matter and grateful for the fact that Pippa didn’t ask for any. He felt that same dull ache he always felt when he thought or talked about Steph for more than a few moments—regret, guilt, that whole bag of shit. Just another situation he should’ve handled differently.

He was actually appreciative of the long list of jobs Pippa took on throughout her undergraduate career, letting out a low whistle by the end of it. If there was one thing someone couldn’t say about Pippa Rossi it was that she was lazy, he guessed. Riveting? she prompted. “Fascinating,” he answered, the corner of his mouth quirked up. Mostly, he thought it sounded exhausting. Taru had a schedule, a mostly stable routine now that he hit thirty trips around the sun. But at no point could he stomach anything too rigid, to have every day accounted for down to the minute. Humans needed wiggle room, time to give in to impulses and make rash decisions—or he did, at least. It felt like suffocation if he didn’t. He took another turn, a left onto Maple Street.

10, 15 minutes. She was right. That wasn’t too far, but still, his lips thinned as he thought, only tempted out of distraction by the sound of her laugh. Taru himself let out an unexpected one when he felt her hand connect with his arm in a lighthearted smack. In light of her answer, he’d intended to play at disappointment—to point out that when she was off planning all 24 hours to her day, he’d been mastering the real important skills. How to drive manual cars, develop solid race strategies, roll a perfect joint… and more embarrassingly, how to use the whittling kit his grandpa had gifted him. But then he was caught by the implication of her following question.

“Reckon I’m kinda offended you’re out there assumin’ I’m not impartin’ wisdom on the regular,” he started wryly, shifting gears as he slowed down on the next road they turned on to. There wasn’t much there, American beeches and a half-paved sidewalk that was bursting from the roots that traveled beneath it to their left. To their right, through the dim night, there was a large open field—an old barn sat forgotten, partially dilapidated and fully abandoned, the dark blue-ish hills cresting like waves behind it. The whole picture was a whole lot prettier in the daylight, but the sky was clear and there wasn’t much sound but the gentle hum of crickets and tree frogs. That and the car’s engine, which softened to a purr.

As he pulled over, he shot her a grin. “I do,” he continued, then as if imparting a warning: “Just not always for free.” He kept the clutch in and the transmission in gear then set the parking brake. After he turned the key and shut off the car, he waited for the moment for the engine to stop completely then released the clutch and then the brake. Taru did it slowly, methodically, and with ample opportunity for Pippa to watch. Once done, he raised an eyebrow in her direction. “You anglin’ for a lesson?” He paused a beat, then added in a lowered tone, mimicking her use of his full name: “Pippa Rossi.”

#thread / taru. #i shortened it. can u believe???

[pipparossi]

tkobayashis​:

.

“That’s ‘cause I’d give a dog a much cooler name, like—Sledgehammer or Reaper,” Taru started, his grin cutting, metaphorically side-stepping Pippa’s question for a second. Though the thought of a dog that looked like Kiko answering to a name like Siege or Beast was laughable. And besides, he never thought of himself as a dog person. His grandma once had a bird. A cockatiel, he was pretty sure, named Peppermint. Taru would sit on the faded overstuffed armchair in his grandparents’ living room, on his knees, and peek into her cage as she twittered about. Hina at the kitchen table with her back perfectly straight as she helped sort the mail or whatever, Minoru on the floor watching Richie Rich or Fraggle Rock. Peppermint was able to mimic bits and pieces from the theme songs of both shows.

After his grandma died, Peppermint started tearing out the feathers on her stomach and slowly stopped eating. And one day, the cage was empty. His grandpa had given her away, he said. Taru wondered if Earl had just snapped its neck like he would a chicken. Taru thought he could’ve taken pretty good care of Peppermint if he had been given the chance. “But my ex named her. You remember Steph Kent?” Steph was studious and serious and kind of mean in high school. And in a school that small, he figured they crossed paths.

West Virginia University. Seemed far away despite being well within state lines. “College parties sound like hell anyway,” he said dismissively. Most parties were hell actually. With too many people and the wrong kind of music, he’d always find himself in a corner with a beer as both Steph and Randy darted around making actual conversation. He snorted a laugh as she continued. “But a soft blanket and ice cream… Well now, who could ask for more? Staunch chocolate guy, myself,” he said wryly but with some genuine amusement. He tried to imagine it, tried to imagine taking steps out of Lockhorn and into a new kind of life. It was easy to see it for Pippa: poised and kind and smart. His brain recoiled at the thought of himself in that position, for more than one reason. It wasn’t like it was what he ever wanted. “But what I’m gettin’ is that college is about as mind-numbin’ and full of shit as I always thought,” he continued, the second half not something she offered up evidence of but what he still firmly believed anyway. He thought about how she mentioned working and actually felt curious enough to ask about it. “What kinda job you’d do? Said you worked.”

Hush you. Taru smiled, then stopped. He reached up to rub his palm against the center of his chest for a couple seconds, then dropped it to grip the steering wheel again. He and Pippa never talked all that much about anything more than the practicalities of wiping the trail of caked blood from his temple. They knew each other in the way that everyone seemed to know one another, then she moved next door at the tail-end of high school, and then she was gone again. He didn’t know why her laughter meant anything to him. His brow furrowed a second. “How far’s your cousin’s place from work?” he asked, tapping his thumb against the leather beneath it. “Sounds like a shit deal.”

What do you think I should get? she asked him. Nothing that’ll rip holes in my pocket. Taru let out a low, disappointed whistle. “Damn. I was gonna suggest we go in search of that hot pink Miata. Sounded like that’s what you’re secretly gunnin’ for.” He haphazardly knocked his hand against the indicator and turned right onto South Fayette Street. Slower than he’d usually take it as he thought. It sounded like Pippa needed something that would just get her from one place to another with minimal issues. “But yeah, lotta Fords do fit the bill,” he continued and lifted his right hand to count off on his fingers. “Versatile, practical, economical.” He paused, then added drolly: “Soulless.” He knew a guy in Beckley who was selling an ‘83 Ford Fiesta for cheap about a month ago. Taru wondered if someone took it off his hands yet. “But if you can’t drive stick that really limits me here.”

-

“Steph Kent?” It took Pippa a moment but a face eventually came to mind. “Oh yeah, I know her.” They never ran in the same circles but her sharp mind had quite the reputation. Especially in a school as small as theirs. A sort of relentless intelligence that couldn’t be ignored. Admirable, really. “I had no idea you guys were together,” she admitted. Then again, that shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. It wasn’t like Pippa paid much mind to anything outside Matt and their circle back then. She and Tyler may have known each other but it wasn’t like they were friends. Friendly, maybe. But it would be dishonest to claim they were anything more than that. 

Her mouth curved upwards into a smile. “A timeless choice. Though I’m more a vanilla girl myself.” In more ways than one, much to her dismay. Pippa resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her own predictability. “It’s... not for everyone.” After her years pursuing higher education, she could definitely admit that. “But it’s also what you make of it. I’m sure other people had a more enjoyable experience than I did.” To her, college wasn’t a time of self-discovery full memories to cherish. It was a stepping stone to get what she actually wanted. She was sure if there was less pressure on her shoulders, she might have enjoyed college as much as Matt did. 

What kinda job you’d do? Said you worked. “I did a few things. I started with on-campus job opportunities. You know, Data Entry Clerk within the academic departments. I was Library Assistant for a while. Then later, I tutored. Sometimes I’d pick up a shift for a friend at one of the diners near school. Towards the end, I worked part time as a patient care technician. Really helped with the line of work I wanted to get into.” Listing it all out, it was no wonder why Pippa didn’t have much fun at college. She was always on the go. When she wasn’t, she was studying. Whatever time she had between that was split between recovering from the load she took on and Matt. “Riveting, right?” She said after a beat at her own expense.

“Not too far,” Pippa answered after thinking about it for a bit. “Maybe 10 or 15 minutes? Dom works at the Old Forge Sheriff’s Department.” He was the only one of her cousins who still lived in Lockhorn County. Not married. No kids keeping him here either. He just loved the place and couldn’t think of anywhere better to be. “It’s not an ideal situation but it’s what’s working right now. Once I get that car, I’m sure it’ll be a lot better.”

The mention of the hot pink Miata had Pippa letting out a soft laugh. “Hey, maybe one day, right? Never say never after all.” Even if getting a car like that was entirely out of character for her. It was far too exciting to belong to someone like Pippa. She watched Tyler closely as he worked through what options she had. At ‘soulless’, she gave his arm a playful whack. Then, as if she didn’t just assault him, gentle as she may have been, she proposed something. “I can’t drive stick... but I can learn?” She’s been learning all sorts of new things lately. How to make soap. How to press flowers. Crocheting. She was getting quite good at all these things too. Maybe learning to drive stick could be her new go-to. “You ever thought of imparting wisdom on others, Tyler Kobayashi?”

#thread / taru. #heyyy heyyyy <3 #i Do Not want to admit how long or often i looked at the sen gif

[pipparossi]

jo-williams​:

…

it was rare that josie had some free time without her toddle by her side, but when she did have those moments to breathe and be alone, she found herself missing him anyways. or more honestly, she was missing john. but she tried to not think about that too much. it was easier to push those thoughts away. thankfully, she was pulled from her thoughts before they were able to take root when she heard her name being called by a familiar voice. she turned to see pippa walking over to her and an easy, friendly smile pulled on her face. “hey, how’s it going?” she greeted, unsure if their one run in at the bar was enough to ignore years of no contact to have a more friendly greeting. but josie was never the most friendly person to start. “oh, is everything okay?” she asked, assuming something bad had happened to prompted pippa wanting to talk to her, always a pessimist. 

-

“It’s going...” Pippa’s voice wandered, contemplating her answer for a moment. “...alright? I suppose? I can’t say I have anything to complain about.” She pushed out a breathy chuckle through smiling lips. It took her a moment to grasp that, but wow, she had nothing to complain about. Her life wasn’t by any means perfect or anything like she imagined it’d be but it was steady. And not to jinx herself but tentatively on the up-and-up. It wasn’t plagued with so heavily grief anymore. She had woken up today and thought of the things she was looking forward to rather than the things she didn’t have. It was quite nice to realize that. Pippa’s warm smile widened. “Oh, everything’s fine,” she assured with a wave of her hand. “It’s actually... pretty exciting, maybe? I guess it depends on what you find exciting.” She chuckled sheepishly before moving on. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you because I wanted to invite you to something.” She dug through her purse then, pulling out a flyer and handing it to Jo. “I’m starting a class. At the Community Center. I’ve been taking on a lot of new hobbies lately and I thought it’d be nice to share one of the ones I’m better at with a few people if they were interested. It’s for crocheting? Not the most exciting art form there is out there but it might be worth a try if you’re looking to dip your foot into something new. And obviously, I’d love to see more of you.” She gave a sheepish half grin. “Would you be free to sit through a boring ol’ crochet class for me this Saturday? You know, in the name of Huntin’ High Cheer?” Was that manipulative? To bring up the fact that they used to be on the cheer team together? Pippa didn’t mean for it to be. She just thought it’d be a nice reference to how close they were in school – a closeness Pippa hoped they could slowly work there way back to since she’d be residing in Lockhorn County for the foreseeable future.

#thread / jo. #i saw this buried in my activity bar pls feel free to ignore it aksjhg

[pipparossi]

banksrainier​:

—

Banks hadn’t made it on a truck that day, being assigned some of the grunt work around the station instead of tackling a call with the rest of the guys on the same shift as him. He took it without a complaint, even if it felt like it didn’t matter how much he was going to bust his ass there — he was only ever going to be seen as the juvenile delinquent that he was. Even if the records were sealed, it was written all over his face every single day that he looked in the mirror. It left him with time on his hands that were perpetually dirty, but less of a chance to get into trouble by the time the exhaustion set in on his way home. Still, there were times like today when he wanted to do more than clean up around the station and pick up the messes that were left behind by the others ( he could do that at home ). So when he heard a voice call out from the front, his hands were full of one of the boxes that he had been in the process of moving into one of the storage spaces in the back but turned towards the sound. “Can I help you?” They didn’t look like they were in need of any emergency assistance, which was good since most of the rest of the others were out on calls and left only him. “I’ve got to warn you though, if you have a kitten stuck in a tree — they took all the ladders with them.”

-

The voice startled Pippa. She jumped back, nearly dropping the flyers she held in her arms as she clutched at her chest. Coming to find that it was just young Banks Rainer, the tension in her body eased. “Banks,” she said his name in a relieved breath. “Hey there.” Pippa pushed her lips into a smile. I’ve got to warn you though, if you have a kitten stuck in a tree — they took all the ladders with them. She let out a laugh, nodding her head at his particular brand of humor before she spoke. “Well, lucky for me I don’t have any kittens stuck in a tree. I’m just here to talk actually. Or share?” That felt like a more appropriate term. To make more sense of her word choice, she plucked a flyer from the stack she was carrying and held one out to Banks. “I was wondering if I could post up some flyers here. If you boys have some kind of bulletin board.” She tucked some of her hair behind her ear – a nervous tick – before she spoke again. “I’m teaching a crochet class at the Community Center this Saturday. And I know it’s not the most macho thing in the world but it’s a real good hobby to have when you want to pass the time, which I’m sure you boys try to do in between fires... I’d love if you could come. And you know, obviously, any of the other fellas here who might be interested and can make it. Do you think you could spread the word? And maybe let me stick some of these up around the station?” She gestured to the flyers in her arms. “I promise I won’t cover your walls with them. Just one or two here and there.” 

#thread / banks.

[pipparossi]

ohkcda​:

-

They couldn’t help the way their smile spread and another soft chuckle tumbled from their lips at the reveal that Pippa was named for Phil Hill. They couldn’t remember if they actually knew who that was, maybe knowing the name from talk at the bar but not a whole lot about him specifically. “ Well, was ol’ Phil at least pretty good at racing? ‘Cause that could be a little bit of a brag– but if he sucked, ” They finished their statement with a suck of their teeth, looking back over at her with grin spreading on their features. If their tone wasn’t obvious enough, they hoped their grin made it clear they were only teasing. Not like anyone would be able to guess that was how Phillipa got her name. Koda never would have. They considered it for a moment, generally not on the Ginny train due to the feminine nature of the name– until Pippa said Gin. “ Now hold on, I kinda like that, ” They said, easily considering the idea without the chance of being annoyed by jokes. “ Gin. ” They repeated, “ Is it too late to take back all the things I said about the name Virginia? I think I’m comin’ around to it. ”

Dakota’s a very pretty name too, by the way. And I’m not just saying that. Koda’s head dipped for a second, attempting to hide the bashful smile that tugged at their features for a moment before they looked back to her. “ That’s kind of you to say. ” They said, their tone toeing the line between jestful and genuine. As Pippa seemed to become flustered by their requested they chuckled softly again. But what she said next– whether she meant it or not– did catch Koda off guard a little bit. Because, yes, obviously they would love for Pippa to make them dinner. It immediately sent their brain on a spiral of little images that were so far removed from the life they lived. But, it was sort of just a figure of speech, wasn’t it. She probably didn’t mean it. Even if she did remember them, she probably didn’t mean it. They smiled gently as they handed off items in their hands, “ You don’t have to do nothin’ like that– I swear I don’t mind. Cross my heart. ” They assured, lifting a hand to draw small cross over their heart with their finger. That gentle teasing reaming to their tone. But they did feel the need to say something else. About her mother. If they remembered drunken ramblings, they remembered her mother being unwell. “ I’m sorry to hear about your momma though, ” They said, looking at her for a second longer, sympathetic– before they looked away again. This time down as they turned key in ignition and truck came to life around them. 

-

Pippa laughed a little. “Well, if we’re going off what my dad used to tell me then he was the American driver to win the Formula One Championship, which...” She made a face. “I guess is pretty impressive? I don’t know. I was never a car person no matter how much he tried to teach me about all of it. I’d always rather be off doing something else.” Though considering her father’s unexpected passing when she was just seventeen, she wished she could go back in time and plant herself in front of her daddy whenever he started going on about cars. Instead of running to spend time with Matt and their old crew. If she knew then what she knew now, she’d glue her eyes on him and take in every word he said, commit it to memory. Lord, she missed him. Tears threatened to prick at her eyes if she lingered on the thought too long. She was thankful Koda was so funny, making her laugh when she so felt like shedding a tear.

“You are far too kind,” Pippa said with a slight shake of her head. Maybe dinner was a bit much for someone you just met. Maybe paying a visit to The Windy Shot would be much better. Give her a hefty tip. Regardless of what Koda told her, Pippa felt the need to repay the kindness she offered. I’m sorry to hear about your momma though. The condolence made her breath feel caught in her throat. She wasn’t expecting it, especially since it’s been years since her momma passed. Well, three. But people tended to stop caring after the first. “Yeah... uh, you’d think it’d get easier after having lost one parent before but uh... it doesn’t. Surprisingly.” In fact, it probably hurt more. Because now she was totally alone. She didn’t even have Matt anymore. 

Not wanting to linger on such a sullen topic, Pippa placed her hands on her lap and pressed her lips together. “So... nice truck,” she said looking around inside it, enjoying the low thrum of the engine now that it’d roared to life. “Forgot how much y’all love trucks out here... you been driving it long?” It was so obvious she was trying to change the topic but she hoped, with everything in her, for Koda’s kindness to come through once more. To take the bait and just... go with it.

#thread / sam. #the worst part is i genuinely think pippa would love horses sddjhsfhsfh

[pipparossi]

clemfontaine​:

.

I’m so proud of you. Clem blushed, both flattered and a little overwhelmed by the statement even said in passing. It wasn’t that no one ever said it to her before. Her mamma held Clem’s face in her hands once in a while and said it slow like she wanted Clem to really hear the words. To believe them. Her daddy told her she was smart or that she was a big help around the house. He looked pleased when Clem got all no-nonsense or when she said something a little judgy about a neighbor or some folk from over in Hazzard he didn’t like. He never mentioned pride. “I had some mighty big shoes to fill,” she said. “I had to step up my game. Though I’ve got a few people on the team, so I can’t take all the credit.” Much as she wanted to. “And now Vanessa Hendricks is interested in joining, too. She’s just turned fourteen. Got her doing some Mamma’s helper jobs, sort of a trial run…” She trailed off in her ramble, then nodded when Pippa turned toward instruction. She was grateful to feel useful. Clem looked from one table and then the next, then nodded once again. “I like the sound of it. It’ll look nice,” she said and moved to stand on the far side of the table on the left, ready to push it toward the other. 

Do you think twelve pairs of hooks is presumptuous? Clem smiled slightly and shrugged one shoulder. “I believe in the power of manifestation. Setting intentions, and working hard on them,” she started. “If you’re fixing to bring twelve sets of hooks, twelve people’ll eventually come. Just have to have the faith and keep plugging away.” It occurred to her belatedly that it sounded very Field of Dreams. If you build it, they will come. But still, it was an old belief in her family. She just hoped Pippa didn’t think it sounded hokey. “How many people have you talked to about it? When I wanted to take the babysitting business more seriously, I realized flyers were real handy but sometimes you get the best results talking to people one-on-one. Then they know your face, hear your spiel.” Clem started to push the table. It let out a short little squeaking sound as it dragged across the floor. “I cornered more than one mom at the Family Dollar, believe you me. Not ashamed to admit it.” And I do have the time. For you? Always. Her smile widened. “You been to the Cracker Barrel since you got back? Their coffee’s gotten a little better if you ask me. Tastes less like dishwater, anyhow.”

-

Sheepishness swept through Pippa at the compliment but she moved past it quickly. “Well, it sounds like you’ve got the beginnings of an empire well underway. I’m very excited for you. How’s your momma these days anyway? Haven’t had a opportunity to run into her.” She crossed over to other table, positioning herself on one side and ready to give it a push to meet Clem’s table halfway. “On three? 1...2...” She pressed the piece of furniture forward on 3, hearing it groan against the floor of the community center before it met with the table Clem manned. 

I believe in the power of manifestation. Setting intentions, and working hard on them. Like a vision board? Pippa almost wanted to ask but didn’t for fear of coming off ignorant or condescending. Instead she nodded her head slowly, listening and letting herself find assurance in Clem’s words. If you’re fixing to bring twelve sets of hooks, twelve people’ll eventually come. Just have to have the faith and keep plugging away. It was a very hopeful process but Pippa wanted to commit to it. It seemed far better than worrying herself silly.  “A handful of people. Some ladies outside the salon. Some girls from the hospital. I told my cousin about it and gave him some flyers to share with the folks over at the police department. And I, uh,” she chuckled. “I actually went by the fire department to spread the word. Figured they would appreciate learning something they could do in their downtime in between waiting for fires. So hopefully something comes from it. Fingers crossed.”

Has she been to the Crack Barrel since she’s been back? The answer was yes. But she hardly remembered it. It was when she had freshly returned, drenched in misery over her break-up. Dom wanted to do something nice for her. But she was still at that stage where she couldn’t find joy in most things and her appetite was practically non-existent. She had a water and probably two spoons of the soup she ordered. Hardly counted as as ‘going’ there. “Err, yeah but not properly. I was mostly keepin’ my cousin company, didn’t get much of anything for myself.” It wasn’t a lie. “Less like dishwater? Never thought I’d see the day.” She giggled. “Can’t wait to taste it for myself.” It would have been the kind of thing she wanted to share with Matt if they were still talking. If they were still ‘them’. “You go there a lot?”

#thread / clem.

[pipparossi]

ohkcda​:

-

The grin remained on Koda’s features, effortlessly charmed by Pippa’s nature. The way she smiled, the way she spoke, the way she laughed a little at herself. “ Don’t beat yourself up over it, I don’t think many people look at someone and go, oh, that’s a Dakota. Nickname or otherwise. ” They allowed with a smile, meaning that, again, Dakota wasn’t a necessarily common name. Or, they’d never met or even heard of anyone else called Dakota. “ Someone told me once it means friend. I dunno if I reckon that’s true but it’s sort of neat. ” They chuckled lightly as they reached their truck. Freeing hand once again, this time to retrieve keys attached to their belt loop by carabiner. Unlocking the truck while balancing groceries against their chest, another chuckle escaping at the reveal of West and Virginia. “ Oh man, see? That’s what I’m sayin’– I got off lucky with Dakota. I was probably this close to bein’ a Ginny too. ” They held up their thumb and forefinger once they had opened the truck door, looking across the enclosed space at Pippa on the other side with amusement. 

Philippa. Jeez. It was a nice name, a really nice name. The sort of name that made Koda think she wasn’t meant to be here. Not in Lockhorn. She was supposed to be somewhere nice, somewhere befitting of such a name. “ It’s a pretty name– not that Pippa isn’t. Pippa’s pretty too. ” They didn’t know why they needed Pippa to know that the name she’d chosen to introduce herself with was pretty to, but they did. “ But I like it. Philippa. ” The repeated the name, soft smile pulling up the corners of their lips. Allowing a beat, they found themself wondering if it was so wrong that they were enjoying this second meeting? Was it so wrong for them to enjoy meeting her all over again when she had no idea? “ You ‘right if I hand these to you? Not sure you want me drivin’ one handed. ” They joked, interrupting their own thoughts with a grin returning to their features.  

-

“Friend. I like that. I don’t know what Phillipa means... hopefully something as nice as ‘friend’. All I know is that my dad named me after this racecar driver he liked. Phil Hill.” Pippa made a face at the name. She imagined Phil Hill’s parents didn’t like him all that much to make his name rhyme like that. Pippa let out a small laugh at the reveal that Dakota was probably thisclose to being a Ginny, smiling at the bartender from the other side of the truck. “I could see you as a ‘Ginny’. Yeah, people could call you ‘Gin’. You’ll probably get loads of people at the bar making puns named that. Could be very irritating but could also earn a lot of tips.” She chuckled.

At the compliment, Pippa made a face, feeling sheepish. “Yeah? Well, thanks. Dakota’s a very pretty name too, by the way. And I’m not just saying that.” She meant it. She’d never met a Dakota before. She liked that the name was a bit long and had 3 syllables like hers, and she liked the way all of the syllables sounded together. Her eyes widened when Koda mentioned the groceries, so taken by the conversation that she completely blanked on the fact that the bartender couldn’t very well drive with all of that in her hands. “Oh gosh – yeah. Sorry. Yes. I will take those. Hold on–” She pulled open the door on her side and helped herself in. Once seated, she set what groceries she was holding down on her lap and held her arms out for Koda to pass on what of the haul she was carrying.  “Gosh, I’m probably going to have to make you dinner after all of this. First you offer me a ride home and then I forget you can’t drive with groceries in your hands? If my momma were still alive, she’d’ve banished me to a corner to think about what I’ve done, forgetting my manners.”

#thread / koda.

[pipparossi]

tkobayashis​:

.

“Yeah? Well, you’ve seen one more than I have,” Taru noted, leaning against the door he just closed behind the dog as he spoke, hands tucked into the pockets of his worn leather jacket. It was a warm night. He wouldn’t need to wear it long, but he often found he would anyway. Stubbornness or stupidity: take your pick. “Guess there’s one where the big monkey’s got its own kid. Big white gorilla baby—named Kiko. Ingenious,” he said sardonically. Ki-Ko, King Kong. Wonders never ceased. He tilted his head toward the dog in the backseat. “That’s her name.” He lifted his hands in a show of innocence. “And I had nothin’ to do with it. Just thought you oughtta know if you’re gonna be sharin’ a small space with each other. One of those things society demands, I think.”

A gentleman, thank you. He grinned dangerously and closed the door behind her. The window was open and he gripped the edge, then shifted onto his elbows to lean in and reply. “How long’s it been? Years of nothin’ to catch you up on. Reckon that’ll have the opposite effect we’re lookin’ for here.” He pressed his tongue against the inside of his cheek. “Didn’t you go to some fancy college?” He’d rather pull his teeth out than know too much about academia, but he’d prefer to ask about what took Pippa away from Lockhorn than stand there and lay out what kept him there. Taru didn’t usually care much about what people thought about him, but he hated the moments when he thought lowly about himself. He wasn’t a teenager anymore; he’d grown out of that shit, or he was supposed to. “Sounds like it’d be borin’ as hell. Maybe you should tell me how you survived it. Should be rivetin’.”

He paused a moment there, looking at her sitting in his car, and then suddenly tapped the edge with his palm and straightened to make his way around to the other side. He dropped himself into his seat with little to no finesse, not unlike how he threw himself onto the barstool back in the Windy Shot. He shut the door firmly behind him, and Kiko let out a disgruntled huff from the backseat in protest of the loud noise. He scoffed a laugh without meaning to. A hot pink Miata. He stuck the key into the ignition, then pressed down on the clutch with his left foot. Taru glanced over at Pippa as he stepped down on the break, then turned the key in the ignition. The car roared to life beneath them, half-wheeze and groan.

He was making a face the moment she said before you make a face. “Sensible.” He said it like it left a bitter taste in his mouth, like how he’d say licorice or politics or Northstar V8 Engine. He sunk a good chunk of his savings into the glorified heap of junk they now sat in, but he’d rather that than something sensible. “Thank shit you got rid of it,” he continued, looking away as he shifted the car’s gear and pulled away from the curb. “I’d be too embarrassed to be seen with you if you hadn’t.” Did you want to make sure my oil and tire pressure levels were good? To see if my, uh… transmission fluid needs changing? “Fuck off,” he said almost-cheerfully. “Didn’t you know? You can tell a lot about a person by the car they drive. Gotta be an awful practical person, Rossi, with your little Ford Taurus. You replacin’ it anytime soon?” He paused, then ribbed: “Maybe a Saturn?”

-

“Kiko...” Pippa repeated, nodding her head as she let the knew knowledge Tyler just shared with her settle in her head. “That’s cute.” Just thought you oughtta know if you’re gonna be sharin’ a small space with each other. One of those things society demands, I think. Pippa chuckled, helpless against finding Tyler’s brand of humor effortlessly amusing. “Who named her exactly?” She asked curiously. “Since you’re so against the idea of it being you,” she teased with a small laugh.

Didn’t you go to some fancy college? Pippa pressed her lips together. “I went to WVU, yes...” It wasn’t something she liked to talk about. Especially since she was aware not a lot of people from here had the means to attend college in the first place. Talking about her experience with higher education made her feel... pompous, even if she didn’t intend to be. She always tried to discuss it quickly and vaguely whenever someone brought it up. Maybe you should tell me how you survived it. Should be rivetin’  "Ha – well, I barely did if I’m gonna honest with you. I hardly remember much of it outside of studying and working. I think I went to about... 3 parties? During my time there. And I barely wanted to go to them at that.” She sighed. God, Tyler must have thought she was so boring. But it was a very taxing to study Nursing on top of working to help pay for her other needs. “My only solace those four years was a very soft blanket to wrap myself in at night and ice cream. I know all of the Ben and Jerry flavors intimately. I swear I think the only reason the Freshman Fifteen didn’t hit me was because all the walking I had to do,” she said with a dry laugh.

Pippa never thought she could be fond of the way someone told her to fuck off but Tyler was proved her wrong. It pulled a hearty laugh out of her, pride swelling in her chest that she drew such a reaction out of him seeing as he was a mechanic himself. She also liked how the skin of his cheeks pulled when he was amused, revealing dips on either side of his face. God, was she staring? She should stop that. You replacin’ it anytime soon? Maybe a Saturn? Pippa rolled her eyes at his ribbing. If she were more comfortable with him, she might have told him to fuck off (in jest, of course) right then but their budding friendship was simply far too new, regardless of all of those nights she used to patch him up when they were younger. “Hush you,” she settled for instead, chiding him fondly. “But yeah, I think I am. Right now, my cousin drives me to work whenever I have a shift but our schedules don’t always line up as of late so it’s definitely something I have to look into. I’ve just been biking on the days he can’t take me and after being on my feet all day, I gotta tell ya: it’s not the most exciting trip home.” She chuckled.

“What do you think I should get?” She asked after a moment, turning toward Tyler. “For a car. Remember: I am the sensible type. And affordable too. Nothing that’ll rip holes in my pockets.” Lest Tyler suggest something outlandish and way out of price range.

#thread / taru.

[pipparossi]

clemfontaine​:

.

You always know the neatest things. It was impossible not to preen at the comment. If there was anything Clem liked more than being told she was bright or creative or sensible, it was the implication from someone like Pippa (a college educated woman who had lived outside Lockhorn and had an established career) that she was smart. Or, at the very least, well-informed—which was, of course, what she always aimed to be. Someone didn’t spend as much time in the library as she did without some purpose. She wanted so badly to poke at that statement, to have Pippa say it again. Or to maybe say something even more complimentary. She remembered when she was a kid and Pippa came over to babysit, the way she’d lay out all the books she’d read since she last saw her out on the kitchen table. Tuck Everlasting, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Anne of Green Gables. An unspoken look, see, don’t you think I’ve done good? Don’t you think I’m as clever and pretty and interesting as you? 

Clem exhaled a quiet laugh and nodded once. “Makes perfect sense,” she said. “Though you’ll have a hard time fitting my head through the door once I’ve mastered the coaster. Or—God, can you imagine when I’ve gone and done a little blanket? I’ll be insufferable, you’ll want to bar me from the building entirely.” She continued to smile lightly as Pippa spoke, ready to answer the question about Faith Wilding when what Pippa continued with struck the smile frozen on her face. Clem shook herself out of it. “Well, the book’s from… ‘94, I think? If I’m remembering right. And it said she had an exhibition scheduled at a museum in Boston. A sort-of-recreation of the Womb Room.” A girls trip across state lines. It sounded as amazing as it did impossible. “It’d be amazing to see it, but—I don’t know. Busy, busy, busy. Y’know?” She shrugged it off, then looked toward the supplies Pippa put down on the table. “So what do you need me to do? I’m in your service for the whole afternoon if you’d like.” She paused. “And I was actually thinking… We could grab a coffee after we’ve got things set up? If you have the time. Maybe put up a couple flyers on the way.”

-

Pippa let out a good-natured laugh, positively amused by Clem. “I would never,” she said through her giggles despite it not being necessary. She listened intently as the other woman spoke about Faith Wilding and her scheduled exhibition in Boston. A recreation of the Womb Room! The news of it made Pippa perk up, feeling as though things aligned just so that she and Clem could see it. But then: Busy, busy, busy. Y’know? Pippa’s lips slanted but she nodded in understanding. That’s adulthood for you. “I get it. You’re kind of a big deal around here now, huh? From being baby sat to being the babysitter.” She giggled. “I’m so proud of you,” she said casually as she ruffled through the materials in her basket. At Clem’s question, Pippa recalled the task at hand. “Right. Well, I was thinking we push these two tables together so it makes one big square and lay out some cloth over it–” Just so it looked pretty. “–and then set up some chairs all around. I got 12 pairs of hooks–” She gestured to them in the basket. “I figure we lay a pair in front of each seat along with a ball of yarn? Or two?” Twelve felt like a very eager number. Would 12 people even show up? The question was written across Pippa’s face. “Do you think twelve pairs of hooks is presumptuous?” She couldn’t help but ask. It would be so embarrassing to prepare this much for only one or two people to attend on the day.

Hearing Clem’s offer for coffee after setting up at the Community Center, Pippa jumped at the opportunity. More than happy to spend some time with her. It was either that or go home and work on that scrapbook that really wasn’t shaping up to be what she wanted. “Of course. And I do have the time. For you? Always.” She made a face, as if she was in disbelief that Clem could even ask such a thing, before nodding her head with a smile. “It sounds like a plan.”

#thread / clem. #askjdhgkjdf

[pipparossi]

ohkcda​:

-

Koda chuckled again, that same sort of soft chuckle that was key in laughing with someone and not at them. The smile lingering easily on their features. They liked the way she spoke, the way she attempted to hit the joke back over the net at them. And they liked the way it didn’t quite flow. “ Oh wow, double bagging, ” They nodded their head like they were impressed, “ I like it, that’s prepared, or– you know, it could have been. ” They teased gently. 

They forced themself to keep their cool, even as they felt their heart beat a little faster in their chest as they nodded. Assuring that they were more than willing to give her a lift. It’s familiar– not with Pippa, they’d had a couple drinks that night, but still it was familiar. And it made them nervous, not a feeling they liked to admit they ever had. They chuckled a little when she did, glancing down for a moment for a small reprieve before back up again. “ Well, there’s times to be brave but I don’t think this has to be one of them. ” They said. It would definitely be out of their way, if Pippa lived where she used to or not. They were here for groceries themself and they hadn’t even stepped foot in the Family Dollar. Didn’t matter, it’d still be open later. “ It’s probably not outta my way if you were gonna walk, ” They pointed out good natured-ly, nodding their head back towards their truck before they started to move in that direction. “ C’mon, don’t want the milk gettin’ warm in the sun. ”

“ Dakota, ” They answered with ease as they walked back towards their truck. Being called Dakota didn’t bother them, Koda was just quick and in the rural speak of Lockhorn County, it tended to end up being d‘koda anyway unless you were trying to make a point like Darby Briar. “ Which I guess is still pretty different for around these parts. ” They conceded, “ I just count myself lucky I didn’t get stuck with Virginia or somethin’. ” They joked, looking over at her again with that easy smile of their’s. They were probably just as lucky they didn’t end up with any other state for a name, or whatever else had been rattling around their mama’s head 24 years ago. “ What about Pippa? That short for somethin’ too? ”

-

“Really? Gosh, okay... thank you,” Pippa said, truly appreciating Koda’s generosity as she followed her to her truck. She’d have to find a way to her repay Koda for this kindness. Maybe pass by the Windy Shot again some time soon and leave a hefty tip if she was working. “Dakota,” she echoed the name, shaking her head at herself for not piecing it together from the nickname that was revealed to her. “Koda, Dakota, that makes a lot of sense. Can’t believe I couldn’t figure that one out.” She started to chuckle but then it quickly grew into a laugh when Koda said she was lucky she didn’t get stuck with ‘Virginia’. “Yeah, that’s a bit on the nose. Just slightly, just a teensy bit,” she said, obviously joking. “You know, back when I used to go to Huntin’ High, my senior year Chem partner was a guy named ‘West’ and he had a little sister named ‘Ginny’. Didn’t think anything of it for the longest time. It wasn’t until graduation that I found out that ‘Ginny’ was actually short for Virginia.” A quick pause to let that big reveal sink in. “Their parents literally named them West and Virginia. My mind? Was blown.” She laughed a little again. “Talk about loving where you’re from.”

“Phillipa,” Pippa answered, flashing a smile at Koda. “Yeah, it’s a bit of a mouthful so Pippa happened. Back when I was a teenager, I used to hate it. Made me feel like I was still a kid that no one took seriously. But then you get older, you get busy and realize you don’t really have the time for all of those syllables, so... I really like Pippa now.” She laughed softly at her admission.

#thread / koda. #me having to misgender koda in pippa's reply bc she doesn't know yet: koda babey i'm so sorry😭

[pipparossi]

tkobayashis​:

.

“Upside down’s the smart way, by the way,” Taru eventually continued when he stepped back out, picking up the thread of conversation just to voice his approval. “Keeps dust out and shit.” Is she… yours? The question threw Taru for the sole reason that he still didn’t quite think of the dog as his property or possession or whatever. It felt more like they had a mutual understanding and begrudging (and often frangible) respect. Or more like he was roommates with a furry, helpless toddler. He adjusted his hold on her. “She is now, I guess,” he started with a shrug, absolutely refusing to feel awkward about it. Kiko had been Steph’s, just another thing she left behind when she went to D.C.—onward and upward, looking for better things. Long-distance lasted a whole month before it all ended one last time. Taru never felt like he was part of those ‘better things.’ “You know those King Kong movies?” he asked, moving to open the backseat door of his old Camaro. He tossed the dog bed in first, then placed Kiko down on top of it. She walked in a couple circles, pawing at the edges, then finally settled with a dramatic little huff through her nose. He rolled his eyes. 

Sure, Pippa said. So long as you stay within the speed limit. He let out a quiet, exaggerated groan as he closed the door, turning back to Pippa with poorly-concealed wry amusement. “Jesus. When’d you get so boring?” he asked, though in his experience Pippa had never seemed the type to want to go speeding through the hills of Lockhorn County. In fact, in his experience, he didn’t spend much time with Pippa at all when he wasn’t already bruised and bleeding. They didn’t exactly run in the same social circles back in high school, but he had still found himself rapping his knuckles against her window some nights to clean up his messes. It was sort of a wonder he didn’t find himself hung up on that. “Speed limit’s for amateurs.” He side-stepped to open the passenger side door, gesturing his hand sarcastically to signal she could get in. “Can I do some sick donuts at least?” Though he wouldn’t, only because the dog in the backseat would probably go fucking flying. “Sideways drift? It’s after ten, I’m an old man. Gotta stay awake somehow,” he said, though if patterns proved anything he’d probably be awake for hours yet without any help from car stunts. As he waited for her to settle in the car, another question occurred to him. “Hey. What kinda car you drive? If you’ve got one.” He didn’t actually know. She hadn’t come by the garage while he worked there.

-

She is now? Pippa took that as the dog wasn’t Tyler’s to begin with but has since taken it in. That made more sense to her. She thought it was kind of him to be responsible and care for something that wasn’t his. Very sweet. “King Kong movies?” Pippa repeated, watching as Tyler got the dog situated in the backseat of his car. “I’ve seen one of them. The one with Jessica Lange.” Not her choice. Matt’s pick during one of their many movie nights. “Why?”

Jesus. When’d you get so boring? For a moment, Pippa wasn’t here – amused by Tyler’s humor and the look on his face. For a moment, she was back in Annapolis, hearing Matt groan that very sentence when she’d share that she didn’t feel like doing anything on this day-off or that. She blinked the memory away, forcing her lips into a smile at the sight of him opening the car door for her. “A gentleman, thank you.” She said, chuckling as she approached the door and Tyler listed what she assumed were car tricks..? “How about you stay awake catching me up on what you’ve been up to since I’ve been away instead?” She suggested, slipping into his vehicle. Certainly not as fun as a ‘donut’ or ‘sideways drift’ might have been but it was surely a lot safer.

“Would you believe me if I told you I drove a hot pink Miata?” Pippa said, her brow quirking and a smile already playing on her lips. No, she wasn’t that cool. But she did admire a super cute white Miata years ago when she and Matt were car shopping before ultimately deciding on something practical together. “Don’t have one now.” She’d sold it before flying back to West Virginia. “But I used to drive a Ford Taurus.” A beat passed before she added, “And yes, before you make a face, I know. It’s a boring car. But it was the sensible choice. And affordable too.” A lot of her decisions had to be just that back then. Back when she and Matt were saving for things, like a wedding that’ll now never happen and eventually a home – another thing that wouldn’t be theirs. “Why? Did you want to make sure my oil and tire pressure levels were good? To see if my, uh... transmission fluid needs changing?” That was just about all she remembered on what cars needed. Matt took over bringing it in for maintenance after Pippa got overcharged for an oil change this one time and she’s subsequently forgotten a lot of the terminology since.

#thread / taru.