#interaction.all

[emelinecormier]

— matty foster emmy's apartment, downtown.

Sometimes, they'd find themselves waling around dimly lit alleyways on the backstreets of Providence Peak. Other times, they'd take up on her stoop or a park nearby. That night, she'd invited Foster into the warmth of her apartment, one that might not be hers for much longer if she stuck with her commitment of trying out actually living with her wife while subletting her own apartment. It was weird, how quickly they lived together when they first dated and how hesitant she was now. A lot had changed, though. There weren't a lot of suburbs in Baton Rouge, so naturally they'd lived in the city, a place where Emmy had always been happy. Now that Verda had a solid grasp on the suburbs and a dog, she couldn't help but wonder how she fit into it all. "Feel free to help yourself to come leftovers," She suggested, dropping the bags she'd brought home from the restaurant on the table, pulling out the containers of still-hot food before turning to Foster. "You want a drink? I've got water, beer, shitty beer, and wine. If I were you, I'd go with the shitty beer, but that's just me." The chef was always inclined to a good Bud Light over any locally crafted bottle that ended up in her fridge. She dropped some plates and forks onto the counter beside the table and glanced at the view from the windows of her apartment that towered high above the dark streets of the city. "Gonna be hard to give up that view."

@foster-notmatty

#interaction.matty #interaction.all #mention.verda

[sagefranklin]

— dylan westwick dylan's home, claret park.

It was funny, how much of Atlas' life seemed to be tied to the neighborhood, despite the man living in an entirely different one; his oldest daughter, his youngest daughter, his close friend... if she didn't know any better, she'd wonder if the man spent his free time just strolling the streets of Claret Park, picking up people to build a found family with. The thought alone was enough to make her laugh softly to herself as she made her way to Dylan's front door, not too far from her own home just a mile or two away. A box took up her right hand as her left hand reached up to knock on the door, a gift bag decorated with rainbows and newborn baby items gently swung from the place where it rested on her left arm with the action. Then, she stepped back until the door opened, cracking a gentle smile of greeting at the sight of the other woman. "Hi," Sage offered in a whispered greeting. "I hope now was a good time to drop off some things, I won't stay, just thought I'd get these two you before the two little ones end up in college."

@dylan-westwick

#interaction.dylan #interaction.all #mention.atlas

[sammypersaud]

— ingrid lozano ingrid's trailer, bighorn hills.

"Poppy sends her love," Sammy greeted, approaching the familiar porch that he build over a decade ago, still holding up... barely. The work wasn't his finest, but it wasn't like it was going to immediately blow over after a light windstorm and it always felt like he was coming home to it whenever he found himself there. He sat the bag of takeout containers in front of Ingrid, courtesy of Farm to Fork's to-go service... and his credit card, before settling nearby. "How was the bakery today? Steal any good pastries to bring home?"

@ingridlczano

#interaction.ingrid #interaction.all

[maisie-espinosa]

— open starter cheers!, university heights.

Usually Maisie made an effort to go to a liquor store in another neighborhood or a vineyard in Summit Lake to get the alcohol she needed, not wanting to task any of her students with running into their professor while doing a beer run on a Saturday night, as no student should have to worry about during their reckless university days. As long as they were being safe, she believed they should do what they want and have fun. But, she was running on a time crunch to get everything perfect for the few friends she was having over that night and needed a bottle of gin for cocktails that she'd forgotten to pick up earlier that week and now didn't have time to run to another neighborhood to do so. Instead, she braved a walk to the local liquor store, hoping that she wouldn't bump into any of her students as she searched down the aisles of the store, so focused on reading over all of the brands, trying to figure out which was the best one for the recipe she had pulled up on her phone, when her shoulder bumped with someone else's, causing her to step back quickly and glance at the person with an apologetic look and an immediately sign for Sorry!

@providencepeakstarters

#interaction.all #providence.starter

[mollywilliams]

— kennedy davis williams' house, bighorn hills.

It felt weird, approaching the house during a time when she knew that her brother would be gone. But in all fairness, she wasn't there for him and Atlas being around might only complicate the situation more or, at the very least, but a type of pressure on both of the woman that would only make things more tense. Also, Molly really wasn't sure where else she could look to find the blonde in the wild, so the home in which she once shared was her only chance. When the knock on the door led to reveal a blonde on the other side, her breathing stopped, the only motion displaying she was even still alive was her hand with held up a small bouquet of flowers she'd grabbed at the shop in town on her way over. "These are, uh, for you. For showing back up here again. I hoped they might soften the blow of seeing me."

@kennydavis

#interaction.kennedy #interaction.all

[coraxclark]

location: soccer field near a park, probably Claret Park. status: closed for @vaughn-markus​

She knew he received the same offer as her. Jonah’s parents mentioned that before she agreed to come, as something for her to consider before she agreed to the invitation to attend one of Jonah’s last soccer games of the summer. Stupidly, she didn’t think it mattered and hadn’t even expected him to show up - yet there he was, approaching her at her spot on the top of the bleachers overlooking the field; a position she often preferred when it came to visits with the son she gave up over a decade ago. At first, when her visits were lacking more than they happened, the boy was young enough to want to interact with her, a toddler’s curiosity pulling him to bring her his toys, ask about her hair or clothes or sad eyes on occasion. As time went on, he grew older, no longer showing that same interest in the woman that was sometimes around but more often not. She preferred it that way, feeling like observing was the right amount of getting to watch him grow into a successful young man without interfering in his life. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually show up.” Cora muttered as the man approached, squinting through the sun as she glanced up at him. “I don’t... usually do this, but they said he seemed excited so.”

#interaction.markus #interaction.all

[50centexecutivembaclass]

Body language—this displays how you’re feeling deep inside, a form of communication that predates speech. For truly effective communication, what your mouth says must be in harmony with what your body says.Emotional IQ—your emotional self-awareness, your maturity in dealing with others in the full range of human interaction.All the transferable skills are interconnected—for example, good verbal skills require both listening and critical thinking skills to accurately process incoming information and enable you to present your outgoing verbal messaging persuasively in light of the interests and sophistication of your audience so that it is understood and accepted. Develop effective skills in all eight of the subsets that together comprise communication skills and you’ll gain enormous control over what you can achieve, how you are perceived, and what happens in your life.

MULTITASKING

This is one of the most desirable skills of the new era. According to numerous studies, however, the multitasking demands of modern professional life are causing massive frustration and meltdowns for professionals everywhere. The problem is not multitasking, the problem is the assumption that multitasking means being reactive to all incoming stimuli and therefore jumping around from one task to another as the emergency of the moment dictates. Such a definition of multitasking would of course leave you feeling like wild horses are attached to your extremities and tearing you limb from limb.Few people understand what multitasking abilities are built on: sound time management and organizational skills. Here are the basics:

Establish Priorities

Multitasking is based on three things:Being Organized Establishing priorities

Managing your time

The Plan, Do, Review Cycle

At the end of every day, review what you’ve accomplished:What happened: A.M. and P.M.?What went well? Do more of it.What went wrong? How do I fix it?What projects do I need to move forward tomorrow?Rank each project. A = Must be completed tomorrow. B = Good to be completed tomorrow. C = If there is spare time from A and B priorities.Make a prioritized To Do list.Stick to it.Doing this at the end of the day keeps you informed about what you have achieved, and lets you know that you have invested your time in the most important activities today and will tomorrow, so you feel better, sleep better, and come in tomorrow focused and ready to rock.

[emelinecormierarchive]

location: tequila little time, university heights. status: open @providencepeakstarters​

It wasn’t usually Emmy’s M.O. to get completely plastered at a Mexican restaurant and end up ranting to the unlucky soul that ended up sitting next to her. But there she was; completely plastered, at a Mexican restaurant, ranting to the poor soul next to her. Her words slurred and she had lost count of just when her bottomless Monday margaritas had turned into purchasing tequila shots straight from the bottle, but after the fifth margarita it hadn’t mattered much anyway, the words had already started spilling from her mouth. The shots only caused those words to become less decipherable with each one and as she slapped her hand on the bar with a shake of her head as she finished a sentence, she didn’t even feel close to washing the memory of seeing Val earlier that day out of her mind. “And she... she has the audac...” Emmy thought for a moment, glazed glance looking around, as though the posters in a language that she was supposed to understand would give her any hint of the English word she was looking to finish was. Finally, it came to her and she excitedly snapped her fingers as her gaze returned to the person beside her. “Audacity! The audacity to freaking buy a location feet from my restaurant. Like, eskize mwen? Koman li oze!” Emmy shook her head as she ignored the stares from the waitresses when the language she had picked up from Amelie when growing up came spilling out in drunk frustration instead of the one most expected, instead signaling for another shot from the bartender. “Do you want one?” She asked the person next to her, not waiting for their answer before she added to the request. “And, uh, one for my friend too.”

#interaction.all #providence.starter #// i'll be posting another tomorrow too so pls love me easy #also emmy is a mess i'm so sorry for her

[sage-adler]

location: expresso yourself, claret park. status: open @providencepeakstarters​​​

With Emmett leaving the house soon after they arrived back from Florida with the insistence that she call him if she needed anything at all, Sage found herself in a routine that left her wishing she could be watching paint dry instead. Feed. Rock. Dirty diaper. Feed. Rock. Maybe Sing. More dirty diapers. It was a drastic difference from what her life had become in the last four years, a far cry from nights at The Jagged Yard and days sleeping in until it was time to work again. It was routine, though, and the muscle memory of being a mom returned the instant the hospital laid Magnolia in her arms. But it was still, no offence to the absolutely adorable baby that was resting in the stroller as they made their way down the street toward her favorite coffee shop, an absolutely boring routine. One that seemed even more so without someone by her side to laugh and cry and managed the routine with her. Sage longed to get out of the house by day number three and finally she succumbed to a small walk to Expresso Yourself, hoping the people watching and a croissant might give her some entertainment to last through the week. 

Magnolia slept soundly in the bassinet attached to her stroller, cooing every so often but still fast asleep as they made their way past the door with the welcoming bell and to the register to order her daily black coffee and a chocolate croissant, gliding the stroller to the table in a corner by a window as soon as she ordered to get settled. Within a few minutes, her order was placed on the table in front of her and she smiled appreciatively, about to take a sip of her iced coffee before her gaze caught the sight of someone moving around her table. “Sorry,” Sage quickly apologized and moved the stroller a little closer to her table, without even glancing at the person, “Strollers are convenient until they’re not. Always feels like they’re in the way.”

#interaction.all #providence.starter

[emelinecormier]

— matty foster amelie's, downtown.

She was working. Like always. It worked out in her favor recently, because it gave her a chance to get out of the home she'd just moved into, the home that she already spent days in, staring at the well-decorated walls, trying to convince herself that she fit there. It usually kept her out from under Verda's watchful, nervous gaze too, the woman busy with her bakery during the day and Emmy typically away from the house until nighttime rolled around and she barely had time to roll into bed before her alarm clock went off again. She'd spent her life working, from the moment she turned double digits, night and day and day and night, climbing the ladder that eventually got her here. To a time in her life when she didn't have to work all hours of the day. To where she could be home in time for dinner with her wife, take days off to go on the honeymoon trip she'd promised the other woman. To hand the work over to someone else who was in the middle of paying dues that Emmy had long since paid. But it was hard to hand the reigns over when she was hesitant about it, when she'd be giving up her last excuse to escape with, when she'd be trusting someone who never met Amelie to do right by her. Foster was different. They'd spent enough time together in the dead of night with a few cigarettes and their own uttered secrets for her to know she could trust him. More than she could trust anyone else she'd interviewed for the head chef position. Maybe this was her chance to allow someone else to do right by Amelie, so she could do right by her wife instead? Only time would tell, she supposed, as she met Foster in the lobby of the restaurant and motioned for him to bypass the line waiting to be seated in favor of following her to her office to talk. "Do you want anything? Food? A drink?" Emmy questioned as she let him into the room in the back of the building, a quiet place for her to think in peace away from the hustle and bustle of dinner service.

@foster-notmatty

#interaction.matty #interaction.all #// i'm so sorry this is a lot

[sagefranklin]

— yasemin dogan franklin house, claret park.

The nerves ate her alive; her chest stuck somewhere between a fluttering excitement and a worry that the other woman would simply never show up. There was a part of her that considered making a pantless joke, but only held her thumbs over her phone screen for a split second before groaning in frustration with herself and locking it all together, slipping the device into the pocket of her joggers as she glanced toward the tiny blonde contently playing with her toys just a few feet away, unaware of the internal strife she'd caused her mother by one simple misdial. "See what you've gotten us into?" Sage teased, ruffling the toddler's hair slightly as she stood from the spot on the floor they'd been hanging out on, deciding that her anxious energy was better spent putting away a few miscellaneous items and pacing instead. She didn't know what the protocol for this was — if Yasemin actually showed up. Should she send a text to her sister? Make her aware of what was happening, just in case the other Franklin would dare show up out of the blue? Or maybe she should ask for permission? No, that sounded silly, right? They were all grown adults and Asher already said that she never would have minded the relationship between them, just the lack of honesty. Before she could decide, the doorbell rang and pulled her from her worry. Her attention fell completely on the woman who waited beyond the door and Sage took a deep breath before closing the distance between her and the entryway and pulling it open. "Hey. Hi," She started, swallowing any other variation of a greeting that threatened to bubble up. Her gaze cast downward and she couldn't help the soft, awkward chuckle, "Looks like you found pants. That's, uh, that's good."

She was saved from potentially furthering the flush she felt creeping up the back of her neck and spreading toward the tips of her ears by a tiny blonde blur skirting around her, headed straight for where Yasemin stood on the doorstep. A toddler sized cannonball threw itself against the woman, excitedly calling her name.

@yasdogan

#interaction.yasemin #interaction.all

[sammypersaud]

— ingrid lozano samar's vendor space, spring market.

Things had been touch and go with the woman on the other side of his vendor space ever since their argument a few weeks prior, but that's how it always was with them. They fought, they made up (or made out), then they did it all over again. Of their own accord, of course. If he didn't want to, he wouldn't. But Ingrid was... Ingrid. She meant the world to him and he wasn't ever going to give that up (and he couldn't tell the truth and say he hated the fight at the same time). "You're scaring away all of my good customers, y'know," Sam called out in the direction of where the other was sifting through some smaller knick knacks and pieces he had displayed. What he said was the opposite of true. Typically, Ingrid helped sell more pieces than he did on a normal day when she wasn't bothering him at his stand during the farmer's market. She just had something convincing about her. "Shouldn't you be bothering pool boy or your new roommate anyway?"

@ingridlczano

#interaction.ingrid #interaction.all

[maisie-espinosa]

— lorelai tseng the silk road, downtown.

Meeting with the woman she was happy to call her friend was far and few in between, finding that many things happened in their lives before they were able to catch up again, which gave them plenty to talk about when they were finally able. Maisie glanced around the restaurant the other owned with her equally as fabulous co-owners after she'd signed a quick hello in greeting to Lorelai, nodding toward the door at the front of the dining area. Want to get out of here? I'm sure you don't want to hang around where you work any longer than you have to.

@lorelai-tseng

#interaction.lorelai #interaction.all

[mollywilliams]

— lucas williams wolf wild rescue, bighorn hills.

She was bored. It was the simple reason for why she went searching for Atlas not at his house, but at the rescue where he would rarely be, but the rest of his family would surely be at far more often. She was bored — and maybe a little curious. Molly had been in town for months, maybe even almost a year at that point, though she was far too disinterested to actually know how long it had been since she broke into Atlas' house on her first night in town to figure it out; a year was nothing compared to the grand scheme of her entire life and the decade she'd spent avoiding actually seeking out her brother. But, curiosity and boredom got the best of her and she found herself wandering around their tiny welcome center, finding someone who seemed to be doing paperwork at the front desk as she lingered just off in the distanced by a display of pamphlets. "I heard you've got wolves around here, that true?"

@lucas-williams

#interaction.lucas #interaction.all

[coraxclark]

location: the sweet spot, downtown. status: closed for @ingridlczano​

Once Cora had a taste for the sweets that the cute baker could somehow create using just her hands, she couldn’t resist them, finding her way back to the bakery just days later in search for some much needed sweets. After moving out of Gabriel’s house and the rush and excitement of the unknown left her body, she couldn’t help but feel a little anxious about what was ahead for her. She was still ignoring Markus, didn’t have a job, and currently living with the best friend she had somehow developed unspoken feelings for. Her life was growing more complicated than she preferred and she was eager to bury that in conversation with said cute baker and the taste of the sweets she delivered. However upon entering the bakery, Cora noticed an unfamiliar face at the register. Equally as cute, but definitely not who she was expecting. “Any chance the owner of this place is in today? I was hoping she’d be able to recommend another life changing dessert for me to try.”

#interaction.ingrid #interaction.all

[emelinecormierarchive]

location: at your service, university heights. status: open @providencepeakstarters​

It was late after she and Val had managed to stuff her belongings into the woman’s roommate’s car, of all the cars it could have been, and even after lugging the boxes up the elevator to the apartment she hadn’t seen in almost two months and bidding the other the most awkward goodbye she could muster, Emmy still couldn’t will her body to sleep. Too many things ran full force through her mind and as much as she tried to close her eyes and forget about it all, she couldn’t. Instead, she rolled out of bed for the seventh time when the clock shined eleven-ten and she slipped on a pair of joggers that she was almost positive didn’t even belong to her before tying her shoes up and padding her way out of her apartment building. Most things were closed and with the university being out of session, she relished in the quiet streets and the cool breeze of the summer night before coming across the brightly lit gas station situated on a corner just a few blocks from where she lived. If she wasn’t going to be able to sleep, at least she could fill her body with sugar and frozen artificial flavors. As she was pouring her fourth flavor into the large cup, she could only imagine what Amelie would have to say about her eating habits ever since Emmy had been pulled away from Providence Peak the day the woman ended up in the hospital. Amelie was never one for anything but the freshest food and Emmy was sure the woman would have plenty to say about her choices. Maybe she almost hoped that the bad food choices would bring the woman rushing back to earth to scold her for making them - if only the world worked like that. It didn’t, though, and Emmy capped her slushee and moved toward the front of the building toward the cashier, her attention caught when an item fell to the floor with a slight plastic crinkle but the person who dropped it kept on walking. She quickly scooped it up and called out to the person ahead of her. “Hey, dude! I think you dropped this.”

#interaction.all #providence.starter #tw death mention