closed to eames;

[baisant]

It's just another night at Guilty Pleasures. Which Jean-Claude supposes is part of the problem. He has had a lot of 'just another night at work's lately. Perhaps because work is where he feels most safe, most at home, but even there he is struggling.

He has not been in a good place, as of late. Not since the loss of the election, if he is being truthful. Not since Asher blew into his life, and then out of it again, and left Jean-Claude's heart heavy with the weight of the past and his mind spinning with the loss in the present. The loss of the election, for there is no cleaning up after what happened at his fund-raiser. Asher's debacle was too public, and it left the city with too many questions with nowhere near enough time for him to address them all.

And now they are left with Cesare in the seat. And though he supposes there are worse that might have taken that place, it stings. The fact that he had wanted this. The fact that he knows he might have been able to make a difference there. The fact that he remains where he is, clawing to hold together the scraps of their nest, under a regime that will never appreciate their people. He has failed them. And he has failed himself.

So he may or may not have been hiding away licking his wounds this whole time, depressed even despite the passage of time. And he may or may not be doing a very poor job of hiding it.

August Catch-All for Girl

[thelastjoy]

A. Late August; Open

Girl stood underneath the low awning of a shop, wrapped fish and chips held to her chest. It was late enough that most of the buildings on the street were closing up, natural light dying and artificial street lamps casting a sallow glow. Girl murmured gently, the noise lost to the hissing and screeching of the tabby hunched atop the awning.

Girl held up a chunk of the fish, trying to feed it to the upset cat. The creature swiped at her fingers and Girl jumped, dropping the corner of meat. She stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking off grease and blood with a whine before trying again. There were enough red marks on her hands and so little of her meal left to show it wasn't the first time it had happened. There was probably something to be said about doing the same thing over and over, and still expecting a different result.

"Come on, kitty," she said sweetly, ignoring that the cat hunched further as she got closer with another piece of food. "You don't have to be scared of me. Just come down."



B. [Wild card it or pm for a specific prompt. Closed starters are in the comments.]