do you fly in the day, darling

[stauncherhearted]

[A June catch-all! Pick an option and say hello, or start something more specific in the comments. Hit me up on plurk if you want a specific starter!]

-

A Just another Saturday night out, Nancy's lips painted blood red and staining the side of her low-ball glass. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, black pumps and fishnets on full display under her short leather skirt. It's a night out, another night working. People around here knew who she was, what she offered. It was easier in supernatural bars, Nancy knew, to find vampires looking for a feeding, or even just a john wanting some company.

She props an elbow up on the bar, and looks down the the way, eyes peeled for any familiar, or unfamiliar, face. She'll just try not to think about how great it would be to be watching Netflix right now instead of work.

B Do you believe in fate, baby, ask me, ask me, the music played in her earbuds as Nancy jogged in place at a cross-walk. Trainers on her feet and hair pulled up in a pony-tail, she was doing her usual exercise routine. Always good to be fast on your feet, she'd learned as a child, and running was a great way to keep that up. Even if she had ways to get away, her feet were still just as important.

Besides, there was something relaxing about running, she'd found. She could shove the world away and concentrate on the music and running and the city. She'd found her way down to the Thames, and was running on the paths near it, past youths with skateboards and graffiti'd walls, business men grabbing a bite to eat right outside the Globe. It was astounding the way the culture and history blended together so seamlessly. She'd never get over that.

The light turned green, and on she ran.

C Choose your own! Private starters in the comments.

Comments

for stiles

[stauncherhearted]

Well. Taking Stiles to the ball had been a disaster. After some hasty damage control via text, she'd arranged for the boy to come visit the next day for dinner. Show him a really good time.

And she was going to do just that, with a new pack of beer in the fridge, a little bit of canway, if he was into that. Putting some in a small pipe, Nancy allowed herself a few hits of the drug as she worked on dinner. Nothing too fancy, she was just throwing together a beef lasagna, hoping that was something he'd enjoy. Worst came to worst, she knew, they could always go down to the pub. Or order a pizza. Pizza was always a good option.

Finally, the food was in the oven, and she'd already started on a bottle of beer, music playing softly in the background, and Juliet playing on the white couch. Now Stiles just needed to show up and she could continue the damage control, making sure he was okay, answering the myriad of questions he had. Y'know. Usual friends hanging out things.

[mensrea]

Usual friends-hanging-out-maybe-kissing things. Stiles is still recovering from a hangover, and yet he manages to show up only ten minutes late with a rose in hand. Though he usually prefers the comfort of plaid button-ups, he arrives in a preppy, collared polo that looks like it belongs in Jackson Whittemore's closet. He even brushed his hair so that it's not the usual chaotic mess.

Darting up the steps to her apartment, he rings the bell as told and waits. In spite of everything, he's in a fairly good mood.

[stauncherhearted]

no kissing. at all. if it had been a date, they would have kissed at the ball. sorry.

Nancy knows he's approaching before the bell goes off, so she'd practically at the door when it does. throwing open the door, she smiles brightly at Stiles. "Stiles! glad you made it! you look- oh my gosh, you brought me a flower! I'll put it in water." giving him a hug, she accepts the flower and shows him into the small flat. a kitchen and living-room combination with a large couch, and coffee table, with her bedroom beyond that to the left, as well as a full bath.

moving to the sink, filling up a small glass, she spoke: "I hope you don't mind Italian- and there's beer in the fridge help yourself. let me just get this rose settled." and with that, she dropped it into the vase, placing it between them on the counter.

"so, welcome again to my house."

[mensrea]

A myriad of expressions flash across his face as he reacts to her appearance. The smile directed at him has his stomach churning with that familiar butterfly sensation, only for the simplification of his gift to send him reeling. Flower!? It’s not just any overgrown, overpriced weed. This is a rose! The pinnacle of romance and feelings and all that mushy stuff! But his concern is alleviated by the brief hug, his mouth popping open in a little “oh” of pleasant surprise.

“Italian is great! And uh, yeah, lemme just…” Trailing off, he digs in the fridge to retrieve a beer. He doesn’t actually want to drink, but a bout of nerves has him desperate for something to cling to. If anything awful happens, he can blame it on the alcohol. “Okay, awesome. So do you, like, want any help with anything?”

B

[detectiveofthewest]

Heiji blew past a kid on a pair of rollerblades and into the street, but he did a bit of a double take when he spotted Nancy.

"Hey, ain't expect to see you around again. Glad ya recovered from that disco fiasco!"

B

[stauncherhearted]

Someone is speaking to her, and it takes her a moment to pause in her running, and actually take out her earbuds in time to hear him.

"Me? Oh, yeah. Just running." She gestures to the path she'd been on. "Hangover from hell, but I got rid of that pretty quick the next morning." Thank you, magic. Thank you, years of drinking. No thank you, Cooper, for taking some of her blood and making it harder to recover so quickly.

"What about you- listening to any better music?"

[detectiveofthewest]

"Yeah, those're pretty rough. I don't wanna interrupt your run or anything, though! Where ya headed? If you ain't mind some company, I can try and keep up."

Well, okay, that was a little disingenuous. Even in this form, he could easily leave a normal human in the dust. ...It was easier on four legs, though.

A

[emotioneater]

"Out fishin' tonight, are we?" Cooper plops down into the seat next to Nancy, raising a hand and ordering a beer from the bartender. He's dressed much more casually than he was at the ball. He's wearing an old plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off and a leather vest that's looking quite battered and worn. Topping off the look are a pair of construction boots that have been laced up around feet that look just a little too big for his skinny frame. No matter how he dresses, he still looks like a kid trying to look older than he actually is.

[stauncherhearted]

for her part, she thought he looked a bit silly. An American Southener, she thought idly, but didn't comment on it. she was fully aware how hypocritical it was going to look.

"and you just took the bait. how are you, Cooper?" she batted her eyelashes slightly as she leaned towards him so that her blouse gapped, playing up the role she claimed for herself.

[emotioneater]

He's like a fish who knows there's a hook underneath that worm and yet still bites. Cooper glances down, unable to help himself. He's a guy, after all, and he has needs. He takes a swig of his beer as soon as it arrives. "Better than most. Not as good as some. And annoyed with a select few."

A, I couldn't resist

[eyeforaneye]

It's not the kind of place that he'd spend a usual Saturday night, much more interested in rest and recuperation or simply anything that involves a large amount of privacy, but despite the claustrophobic air he maneuvers through the bar only to take a bold seat right at her side.

The bartender is waved away for now, his stern expression seeming to age him a few years though it's still clear that he's young and it shows in the look the man gives him. Not that Sasuke minds too much.

"Hey."

[stauncherhearted]

Huh. A bold move, but Nancy raises her glass in greeting. "Hullo," she says casually. He does look young, somewhere around Nancy's age. She knew not to judge books by their covers, but she doubted he was here for romance for an hour or so.

"You should try the Koppaberg." She gestured at the tap. "Their cinder is amazing." It wasn't Rekorderlig, but it was still good.

[eyeforaneye]

'Kopparberg'. The name alone brings back an unpleasant memory of his completion of secondary school and the party that followed. Or more accurately the morning that had followed that.

"I'm not much of a drinker. I came over here to speak to you. Preferably somewhere with more privacy."

b! i hope you don't mind lazy brackets

[apolly]

[apollo's not sure why he moved into an apartment so far away from the food store, but that's exactly why he saved enough for a bike before even moving to england, since it was his easy solution to get around LA in the first place.

... if his tire didn't decide to go out.

he would've been fine with falling if he wasn't about to fall into a woman who was doing absolutely nothing wrong, which makes it the most scary few seconds of apollo's life—]

Hey, LOOK OUT— [CRASH DID YOU DODGE]

nope!

[stauncherhearted]

[It was luck that Nancy managed to look up before the bike crashed into her, sending her sprawling to the sidewalk unceremoniously, ipod knocked from her hand, skittering away from her. Somewhere was the man and the bike, but for now, she just had to actually sit up and take inventory of her injuries.

It started with a skinned knee, elbow, a scratch on her cheek, and a rip in her jacket. Her hands she'd thrown out in front of herself and only managed to scrape the palms of her hand.]

Ow-fuck! [Sitting with her legs in front of her, she groaned, closing her eyes.]

[apolly]

[apollo makes it by with skinned knees, forearm, and a mark on the side of his face as well, not to mention the pain from where the bike landed on the inside of his leg. well, god damn it.

though the first thought isn't himself weirdly enough, he scrambles to stand up and push the bike to the side and run right over to he (almost) hit. but by the look of her wounds, apollo isn't convinced just yet.]

Oh my god, are you okay!?

A.

[viduation]

[ he hadn't come here to drink, but that's how he ends up, leaning on the bar in a deceptively nonchalant pose, nursing a bottle of beer. he's slow to sip at it. the purpose of his visit had been information, but like so many other attempts, it had been a dead end. he's not sure why he's still hanging around. maybe it's just for the sake of appearances, or maybe he's hoping that his luck will change (ha). but it's quiet enough and the drink is decent, so he stays for the moment.

when he catches Nancy's scent amidst that of everyone else in here, it takes a moment to place it. perfume, make-up, and iron. he looks around, seeking her out.

his eyes flick up and down, eyebrows raising for all of a second. she looks somewhat different than she did on their first meeting - but then, so did he.

after offering her a nod in greeting, he ends up heading over, but he's seemingly in no hurry to say hello. ]

[stauncherhearted]

[Oh no Derek was here. Someone she knew and someone that had no idea what she did. Oooh no. Lifting up her drink, she threw it back, before slamming the now-empty glass on the bar. Then, signaling for another, she nodded back at Derek.

He could come over if he wanted, she supposed, but that was the end of that as a man approached her, whispering low in her ear. Pausing, she turned towards him just slightly, but not before catching sight of Derek again.

Oh no.]

[viduation]

[ seeing that she's apparently speaking to someone, Derek draws short in his approach, closer to her now but maintaining distance. he doesn't want to intrude, even if the shift in her expression has him frowning - curious, perhaps concerned. anxiety ripples off her, and he isn't sure why. he waits, wordless but not quite unobtrusive. ]

B

[falsify]

He's been keeping an eye on Nancy for a little while; trying to understand the witch who broke free of Fagin's hold. It's never happened before, not that he knows of, and he wants to understand it - what's so special about her that made it possible? Moreover, Fagin hasn't tried to exact any kind of revenge that he knows of. Nancy may be powerful, but she doesn't appear to know how to harness it, it couldn't possibly be that hard to deal with her if Fagin so wanted. Part of him suspects Fagin intends to try and get her back under his control, it's the only explanation he can think of.

It's not something he can figure out just by watching her, is what he's come to understand most of all. Time to make contact.

Eames stands on the other side of the crossing, waiting for Nancy. He doesn't step in her way or wave or anything like that, actually he's kind of curious as to whether she'd recognise him. Despite not making any overt effort to get her attention, he does look straight at her as she crosses the road, making no secret of the fact he's here to talk to her.

[stauncherhearted]

She met the man's eyes across the intersection. There was something familiar about him, she thought. Something about the way he looked at her... She could sense his magic, even from here. That, and the eye contact, she knows he's going to speak to her.

She waits until the light turns and walks, rather than jogging, over to him, pulling out her ear-buds.

"What can I help you with?" She arches an eyebrow up at him. She probably looks quite silly to anyone around her, a petite girl in running clothes talking to this well-dressed man. There's really no way around it, though.

Now that she was closer, she could recognize him a bit better. She purses her lips just slightly, trying to place his face across her memory.

[falsify]

"Nancy," he says with a smile, trying to read her expression. She does't know who he is, he decides, but that's no surprise. They've never interacted, after all. "I'd be offended that you don't recognise me, but it's been some time, I suppose."

He casts a glance up and down the street, idly wondering how much attention anyone is paying to them. Aside from the odd curious look, nobody seems to care all that much. The beauty of major cities, he supposes - nobody cares about anything that doesn't immediately affect them. "My name's Eames," he adds as he looks back at her, "I'm an... Associate of your ex-guardian."

C - backdated to the 12th

[hallapologies]

There's a knock at the door. A small one, as tiny and bony as Pel's fists are. A hood is pulled up over her silver hair, leaving her quite obscured through the peephole.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy's home, as luck would have it, tucked in on her couch with a blanket, bottle of wine and netflix. Juliet, her kitten, was off somewhere doing something cat-like, and she certainly wasn't expecting company. But when the noise came, she rose to her feet. None of her wards had gone off, so the visitor didn't mean her any harm... Or found a way past them.

Standing on her tip-toes, she looks through the peep-hole, frowning.

"Who is it?" she called through the door. Better safe than sorry.

[hallapologies]

"It's Pel." She's shaking, hands shoved in pockets, head bowed low to obscure her face because she's afraid she's going to cry.