"You look amazing," the woman has no idea who she's talking to, unsure she just hasn't meant them or if their mask is really good at disguising their features. "I got an extra glass of champagne... Do you want it?"
"You still face painting at the fair?" Christina asks, standing in line next to Aaliyah as she turns her head to look around. Taking someone who was someone that could easily be scared would probably be entertaining for others but for her, it made her a little anxious so making small talk seemed like the best idea.
It wasn't the first time he'd gotten hurt doing some odd job on the farm. But it was the first time the injury required medical attention. The last thing he remembered was being on Monty, trying to get the cattle back into the barn before something had spooked the horse enough to throw him to off it's back before it went black. He'd hit his head for sure, and when he slowly came to he was confused. This most certainly wasn't his cozy cabin in the middle of nowhere, the sterile smell and noise made that clear. But the hand that suddenly squeezed his had him quickly looking to his right, making his head throb from the sudden movement and his own hand come up to clutch it. "Aaliyah?' He questioned and his wife's face became clear beside him. 'Shit... what happened?'
he’s outside on the terrace, sitting on a chair with a coat large enough to keep him warm in the brutal weather. why he had stepped outside, he wasn’t sure, but as a plane flies by, his drunken thoughts get the better of him, and he speaks what’s on his mind, to no one in particular. “i like planes,” he states, a pause being taken, “they go places.” what is he even blabbering about? he’s forgotten. “like if you wanna escape, bam, get on a plane and you’re out.” he needs to shut up.
marcelo nearly gasps when a non christmas themed song begins to play. “are they playing... a non christmas themed song right now? am i dreaming?” overdramatic? yes, but’s it’s true. they’ve been playing the same christmas songs on a loop already, up to the point where he has a headache. still, marcelo can’t help but make a face. “wow.... can’t lie, this song kind of sucks, though.” he admits, letting out a sigh. “this dj is fucking awful. i’ve been tortured by his song selections and mixes all night long.” he shudders at the horrors.
A distant sound of an alarm echoed through the empty streets of downtown. But, as one grew closer, the faintest beats of music could be heard cutting through the crisp night air. He left no time to regret, kept his dick wet, with his same old safe bet. The lyrics grew louder and louder as if someone had popped on a record and connected the turntable to some very powerful speakers. And that someone happened to be wearing four inch Louboutins as she stepped over the broken glass of the window she had shattered with ease.
"We only said goodbye with words, I died a hundred times," She hummed along, swaying her hips to the beat of the music as she danced down the rows of records, dragging her current snack's unconscious body behind. He'd be fine. Chad or Chip or whatever the hell the Broken Records' store employee's name was, was taking a nap and, sure, she could likely read his name tag to learn what his name actually was, but that would require her to give a shit, which, at the moment, she couldn't find herself particularly bothered to do. She'd rather drag sweet Charlieboy here by the wrist around the shop as if he was her own personal big gulp. Charlie's wrist she had taken a bite out of in one hand while a nearly empty bottle of whiskey dangled loosely from her other, but not loose enough to let any of the liquor spill out onto the ground. Meena's ears perking up as she heard a crunch of glass behind her. Not bothering to turn around as she told her fellow vampire, "Fancy a drink, love? Or would you prefer a dance?"
Polite smiles and small talk only got him a little way when dread still pooled in the pit of his stomach. A held breath and anticipation of the other shoe to drop became an addition to daily life, things weren’t terrible…yet, nothing bad was on the horizon…yet, gossamer thin threads of happiness even seemed to loop into his life…but how long would that last? Something always happened, good did not last, feelings of safety were all but shot to hell along with his nerves when he resigned to it not being a guarantee. And it wasn’t. With the news breaking about a dark coven leader and mass murders, Jonah felt justified in his fear, which grew as gossip spread, whispers reaching him that caused hair to prickle up at the details. Other things reached him too, and maybe he leaned into them more now, wanting to know more about this world meant not shying away from the dark anymore.
It felt wrong to walk into Eclipse, nothing on the place itself and not even because it wasn’t his usual hang but rather on the uncharacteristic thoughts that led him here, and really he both felt and likely appeared to be a fish out of water too as he forcibly sat himself at the bar. Spotting Aaliyah, he gave her a wave, “H-hi.. uh we met-t at the dinner my cousin threw? I was Nurse Joy…” Were explanations necessary? They had met prior to that too. “I’m not Joy, I’m Jonah…” Leg bounced free of will, clear indications that he was far out of his comfort zone and half his mind screamed to leave but he had to stay here. “I-I was wondering if you could help me with something?”
“You know, back in my day, this sort of thing was frowned upon,” Theo commented as he moved into the space next to Aaliyah. This was in reference to the tiny pixie that felt she needed to take up everyone’s attention as she slammed the doors to the hall wide open. Frankly he hadn’t known why he showed up in the first place, could’ve been boredom, curiosity even as to what disaster would unfold next, whatever the reason, he was here and began to regret with each passing second. “Can always count on this town for theatrics at least. Care for a drink?”
he just couldn’t shake it. every night for the last week wyatt was having the strangest most vivid dreams. they truly felt real, like he was just walking through some memory, but it was utterly impossible for that to be. the setting was always some night club in the early 40′s. well before he was even born, and he was sat at the bar, listening to music. someone was singing but he never saw who, or could ever make out any words of the song but it just... felt like he’d been there before. like deja vu..
then during the day, he’d have random thoughts, random visions going through his head of the same thing. a woman’s laugh, the smell of cigarette smoke, that same music. he truly didn’t know what was going on with himself, and all of this had started the moment he got his new neighbor. he’d seen aaliyah here and there since she’d moved in, had helped her one or twice with something that needed fixing but, that had been the extent of their interactions. and he could shake the fact that he felt like he knew her face either.
which is why he found himself on her doorstep tonight, flustered and just... needing to talk to someone about what was going on with him. wyatt knocked on the door and waited, almost pacing a bit, and when aaliyah opened the door and he looked at her, there was another flash in his mind. the woman he’d been hearing sing in his dreams, it was her. ‘you.’ was the only thing he said at first, simply staring at her.
Camille: I need ur help
Camille: I need to wrap some presents
Camille: And you know i mess up the corners :(
Camille: I'll provide tea and cookies in exchange
@aaliyahq