no damsel

“Yeah.  We’re both blondes.  We have so much in common.”  Despite the fact that literally seconds ago, she had been trying to draw comparisons between herself and Debbie, the minute the boy brought it up, Kathleen scoffed.  She squirmed a little bit, straightening and leaning her palm against the edge of the rack.

As he spoke up again, she gave him a long, hard, and strange look.  This guy walks up out of God knows where, exchanges all of a sentence with her, and suddenly offers her a spot in the band?  Kathleen would have rolled her eyes and walked away, were it not for the fact he was so inside her head she could feel him scratching at the wrinkles of her brain.  It felt weird and unusual.  It…wasn’t something she was used to.

“I do sing, but for another band.”  Well, she tried to sing.  And they were trying to be a band.  But that was beside the point.  “You’re a little slow on the draw there, Mr. We Literally Just Met.”

--

“Blondes, brunettes, it’s not about a hair color, it’s about a vibe.” He muses easily, putting the record back, “she always had this... cool, aloof thing about her... in her live performances it was just this cool air, like she didn’t give a damn about who was looking at her.” 

His shoulders slumping only slightly at her dismissal, he shrugs, “That’s actually pretty cool.” he says, “I mean, maybe we ‘literally just met’, but I think I can see star potential in someone. Plus, you keep blowing me off, like you’re too cool for record stores, but you obviously have some passion for music, seeing you’re here and all. So I’d say that band is lucky to have you.”

Maybe he was being a little strong, but he didn’t think someone should doubt their own talents just because they weren’t Debbie Harry. Hell, they only made one of her. “You know, if you’re interested... try some Heart. Sisters, one played the guitar... pretty badass.”

Rap?  What?  Kathleen went still.  She definitely couldn’t rap.  The universe didn’t want her to rap.  She lifted her fingertips off the record sleeve so just her palms were touching the sides, her mouth pressed into a line.  After a moment, she just quietly slid the thing back into the rack.  “Uh huh.”

Shaking the hair out of her eyes and trying to distract herself, she finally got a look at the boy - and the very striking, minimalistic album he was looking at.  She didn’t see a name…was Blackstar the artist or the title?  Her brow furrowed before stealing a glance at the little name card sticking up near where he had grabbed it.

“Oh.  Bowie.  My brother likes him.”

“Oh come on.” he justifies, picking the Blondie record back up for Kathleen, “this is a good one. Heart of Glass is in my top 100 songs of all time. I bet you could belt it out too... you know, you kind of got a Debbie Harry thing going for you, with the hair and all...” he muses, knowing that he’s thinking about one thing. 

The band just hadn’t found their niche yet. Bowie had been thinking that there was maybe too much testosterone, even though everyone carried their weight pretty damn well. “You should like him too. I think you’d like Young Americans... that has Fame on it.” He says easily.

“And seeing you like music... I think you should be the singer in my band... you do look like you can sing.”

@daphncblake​

Could she do the Debbie Harry thing?  Kathleen turned the record over in her hands, practically doubled over the rack with all the other “B” artists and staring hard into the glamour shots splashed across the cover.  She already had the hair going for her.  And Debbie was bad but cute but still with a touch of glam.  Kathleen could pout - she was practically halfway there.

The back of her neck prickled, sensing someone getting close her her just out of her field of vision.  “Do you mind?” she grunted.

From the second Bowie learned who his namesake was, he knew that music was his calling. Sure, he taught himself bass and guitar, played some keyboard and tried to drum, but he always wanted to learn more from the rock stars that came before him, which was where the music came in. He didn’t care what he listened to, and he didn’t have a strict genre, but it had to be inspired, at the very least. 

Raising his brow at the sour tone of the girl beside him, he looks to the bin below her. “I was grabbing Blackstar.” he states, “but Blondie is cool. Did the first official rap song and everything.”

The night had to be perfect, because it was Sawyer’s doing. Everything had to be just right in his eyes - the blankets arranged nicely on the roof, not too messy but ruffled up just enough to be comfortable, the snacks (Evie’s favorite, of course) arranged on one side and his laptop perched on the other. He couldn’t help but want things to be the best for Evie, especially now as his crush continued to grow. Sawyer’s attention was caught by the sounds on the side of the house that must have been her making her way up the roof. He waited for her to get up on her own, grinning as he saw her come into view. “You’re a pro at that, now,” he greeted, holding out a hand to lead her over to the setup. “Soon you’ll be scaling buildings, and then I’ll be scrambling to keep up.”

@daphncblake​

Not only had her upper body strength improved because of Sawyer, but she was starting to feel more comfortable too. Even though she had quite a hopeless crush on him, it didn’t mean she couldn’t value him as a friend too.

The blush almost engulfing her face as he meets her at the edge of the roof, she pulls herself up with some gusto, trying to smile as she catches her breath. “It’s still not as easy as you make it look...” she counters, the blush still very apparent on her cheeks as he takes her hand. “Sawyer... what is all of this?”

_

“Does modelling run in your family? You were fantastic at the fashion show, it seemed so natural to you and now I see why.” Herc replied with a genuine smile, though ever since he met Daphne anything she did seemed to be executed to perfection. “Ah yes the heart.. turns out its not just vegetables and exercise that keep it healthy…” he mused, feeling that sharp longing pain in his chest that appeared whenever he thought about Megara. He folded his arms across his chest, as if it would ease his pain. “Someone wronged you? Are they stupid?!”

Giving Herc a natural smile, she looks to him kindly, relishing in the compliment. “I wish. I kind of turned my back on anything my mom did, because my siblings were so into it, and I wanted to be different... that’s where Mystery Inc came in, but I guess I’m a natural, in a way, from watching her so much.” She admits sweetly, “if it was all veggies and exercise, I think you and I would be pretty well off.”

Flushing lightly at his words, she brushes him off with her hand, “It’s a pretty complicated situation,” she says lightly, “but even I get wronged sometimes, and it’s usually by the people that I love most, doing dumb things... it’s the way fate works in twisted ways, I guess...”

“Edward Cullen isn’t worth the ink used to print his personality.  End quote.”  And Penelope slapped the book cover one more time to punctuate herself, as if the characters could actually hear her thoughts.

A book burning?  Her eyes opened a little wider than usual.  Her first immediate thought was yes, yes, oh God, yes.  Then immediately after: no.  Burning books is only for zealots and psychopaths and the other who’s who of America’s Most Wanted.  And after that: it’s just one book.  A book that had already gotten a lot of grief in one form or another.  And even though she originally planned on donating it, that would mean it eventually end up in the hands of some other unlucky soul, which was the last thing Penelope wanted.

Nibbling on the inside of her mouth where her lipstick didn’t show, she replied softly, “What did you have in mind?”

“A scathing review,” Daphne says, “however, we’re crushing the hearts of millions of girls who don’t know the misogyny laced in the pages yet. It’s really a blessing and a curse, isn’t it?”

Pen obviously held some deep set trauma with this book, so Daphne thought they could alleviate it pretty easily by doing something so extreme. It was a coping mechanism Daphne had taken too strongly after the first time Freddy broke her heart, so why couldn’t they do it with a book? She was sure burning love letters helped, so this could too.

“Some wine, maybe a cheese plate, while we sit outside relaxing, tearing it page for page, throwing it into a fire, and airing our grievances with it... what do you think?”

Herc chuckled at her words, a little out of breath mixed with a little of not knowing how to properly respond. His experience with women so far was incredibly confusing so he decided to opt for a polite smile. “–Ah thank you, Daphne.” he grinned, whilst wiping some sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. “I am working very hard to maintain this shape, although to be quite honest its not all that rewarding..” he explained, wondering how movie stars with impeccable v-lines always had girlfriends and yet he couldn’t even have a date. “How is your work-out fairing today?”

“It’s not just about the shape, darling.” She drawls, taking a look at his face instead. “I don’t think you realize that it’s all about heart. My mother was a model and she didn’t make it just based on her looks, though that was the starting point. When she started losing what made her special in their eyes, she always had my father, at least...” She says, “so... even though my work out was amazing, and I feel better because I ran off some pent up rage... I think we need to work on our hearts next.”

Penelope rolled her eyes.  She had her fair share of memories attached to the book and its sequels as well.  But she hadn’t picked it up since before her transformation, and now those memories only made her want to gouge her eyes out.  Hindsight was 20/20, indeed.

“Unfortunately, I can’t argue with you there,” she grumbled.  “But even then, you must admit it hasn’t aged well.”

“It’s terrible.” She admits, “I mean, the narration is awful and whiny, Edward isn’t that great of a man to risk your entire life for... but the drama is delicious.”

Looking to Penelope and to the book once again, she smirks, a wicked thought enveloping her. “So, should we have a book burning to commemorate?”

Freddy wasn’t sure whether to be nervous or at ease knowing his presence wasn’t met with frustration from Daphne, he chose to feel the latter as a quiet relieved exhale left his body. A smile even formed on his face seeing her which honestly felt just as good seeing as though Freddy couldn’t remember the last time a genuine smile graced his face since he threw himself into his own mystery. “A week hold, huh? I’m surprised you’re not wearing the latest for this week.” he teased lightly, closing the space between them even more as he walked closer to where she was seated. “Yeah, I have. Sorry for, uh, falling off the grid on all of you. You know how I get once I fixate on something.”

A grin forming at his smile, she can’t help but blush at the gentle teasing that she had always been used to. It was giving her a glimpse into the person Freddy had always been, someone she was unabashedly obsessed with. “Well, you didn’t see it.” She replies easily, “I thought about retiring it, but there’s something about you not seeing it that makes it new still.” Looking up at him now that he’s closer than he was before, she smiles, trying not to let the aggravation show on her face. “I know... but you know we’re here to help... right? You know you can trust me...”

Freddy was trying to make strides in mending his relationship with Daphne. It seemed as if things were beginning to work out after the impromptu date Freddy had created but of course like most things in his life the good didn’t last (mostly because of him) after the date Freddy went AWOL once again as he threw himself into research. The truth of his birth and father had rocked him to his core that Freddy needed more time to mend and process his entire life had been a complete and utter lie. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to tell the gang quite yet. It was his baggage after all, did they need to know? He knew eventually they’d find out but right now he didn’t want to focus on that. Right now his priority was making sure he didn’t royally fuck up things with him and Daphne again. “Is that a new dress?” he asked, leaning in the doorway of mystery inc’s lounge space. It was an attempt at conversation and showing he payed attention. At least he hoped the dress was new. He didn’t need this to backfire so soon. Freddy kept some distance between them, trying to feel out the space because sometimes Daphne was so damn hard to read. @daphncblake​

She hated to admit it, but she had been spending time at Mystery, Inc once again to hopefully catch a small glance at Freddy. He’d done something beautiful for her, and she could feel her heart tugging toward him again, but the worst thing was that he’d disappeared... again. It wasn’t like this was unusual behavior, but it had always frustrated Daphne. She knew that there had always been something lingering beneath the surface, something that had been bothering him, but it frustrated her that she was open like a book with him, and he had been shut tightly ever since they made the journey to Elias. It was hard to contain her anger over it all, but she would, especially for Shaggy and Velma. Hearing the familiar voice, she disguises her excitement easily, crossing one leg over the other as he approaches. “Astute.” she replies with a smile, “it’s new as of a week ago, so I highly doubt you’ve seen it. You’ve been busy.”

Penelope’s head snapped.  Her eyes bugged out and, subconsciously, she clutched the book even tighter - like it was a wild, diseased animal she needed to keep a curious child from touching.  

“What in the great wide hell are you on, darling?  Have you read this, recently?” she muttered.

Of course, the book was a relic of time at this point, but in Daphne’s mind, it had kept her sane in the thralls of high school, when her mother and father were far too busy keeping Hollywood entertained.

“No, but it possesses memories,” she replies, “and a mountain of wealth for the authors and the actors in the movies... who did well enough, considering the source.”

Reflexes fast (but unfortunately not fast enough), Penelope slammed her hand across her copy of Twilight which had shifted its way to peeking out of her purse.  “I’m donating it.  I won’t hear a word.  Back away.  Slowly.”

“Don’t you dare.” Daphne expresses, “If you’re going to abandon one of the great literary to film masterpieces, at least give it to me.”

“So, I just gotta know. Are you aware you’re standing in wet cement, or were you waiting for someone to point that out for you?”

Looking down at her brand new shoes in utter disbelief, she lets out a grunt, moving herself with enough force that she ends up getting out, though her shoes are beyond repair. “Nick. I’d like to think that every time I run into you, bad news just happens to follow. How is that?”

Herc stepped away from the weight bench with short and fast breaths. The pole had almost broke into two clean pieces with the amount of plates he had been using, he wanted to bulk up his strength.. incase Hades decided to throw a curve ball at him. He was standing in front of the mirror now, glistening with sweat and pulled off his shirt to cool down. In the background his noticed the unique presence of one @daphncblake·. He spun around with a smile and began to wave, shouting across the music and room. “Daphne! It’s me Hercules– how are you!?”

Daphne had decided that she hated the gym. Sure, you could go there, get bulk, or whatever tickled your fancy, but she knew the amount of running she usually had done with her friends had kept her fit. The sheer lack of ghosts in Elias was severely ruining her endurance. Barely making it a mile on a light jog on the treadmill, she got off, exasperated, until she heard someone calling for her. As she turned, she was pretty sure she was now happy that she decided to come here today. “Herc, the man that couldn’t grace me with a firefighter calendar, here in the flesh... honestly, this view is better than a photo in the calendar, though...”

Hercules grinned at himself in the mirror, admiring the cut and color of the fabric against his skin. He felt amazing, and confident in Penelope’s creation. He was now glad that she had basically scared him into accepting the offer to model for her, that girl is tough. He spun around and waved jazz hands in the air. “What do you think? – I actually like the sequins!”

“Well I think we both look stunning.” Daphne says confidently, looking at Penelope’s creations that they were both currently wearing. “Plus, she used my signature color. Purple... it’s everything, don’t you think?”