𝑱𝑶𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑬 𝑷𝑬𝑨𝑹𝑪𝑬 - ( intro ) , ( musing )

ask.

———

“They’ll be ready soon, I can certainly put one aside for ya. What flavor are ya feeling? My favorite helper put ‘em together for me,” the baker boasted, gleeful to hype their employees as often as they possibly could. In their philosophy, spreading the good vibes around would bring them back to Anka, like charitable deeds. Karma was important to the witch, as was their treatment of others. ( The once ice queen that they were had thawed to a glistening sunflower soaking up every inch of the summer sunshine and they had only their friends so long ago to thank, the ones who’d pulled them out of greed’s foul mouth. ) Reaching for the plastic baggies to tuck a couple rainbow-colored sugar cookies into, they let out a string of giggles, exclaiming, “What’cha been drinking this morning? Irish coffee?! Ain’t no way you’re gonna get me up on a wild bronco, honey. An’ if someone in the audience is dumber than rocks enough to do it, they’ll be eating their own hats ‘fore they know it.” The day was better now that they and Isabella were talking — who wasn’t happy to see some of their closest friends? Stella had already wandered over, looking mighty interested in something ( someone? ) else. “Ya gonna enjoy all’a the fun for me while I’m stuck here at this popsicle stand?” they implored, exchanging the cash for the wrapped cookies graciously and pinching the bill between their manicured fingers, stuffing it into the zippered bag. Their personal cut was shoved right into the space between their bra and their girls. 

“HOW  ABOUT...”  ISA’S  EYES  scanned  over  the  selections.  “Peach.  I’m  planning  to  share  some  with  Ellie  and  Mars.  And  maybe  do  some  baking."  She  had  never  stuck  to  one  type  of  magic  practices  ,  though  right  now  she  had  carved  her  own  little  niche  of  baking  in  the  current  weeks.  Was  she  good?  Debatable  ,  but  Isabella  could  make  a  mean  cuppa  cuppa  cake  when  she  wanted  to.  “If  you  give  em  to  me  early  ,  I’ll  make  sure  to  bring  you  some  of  the  cobber  I  make.”  She  smiled  ,  a  quick  mischievous  spark  in  Isabella’s  eyes  as  she  looked  at  all  the  baked  goods  ,  trying  to  figure  out  what  she  wanted  next.  Her  head  shot  back  up  though  at  the  mention  of  broncos.  “Hey  ,  I’ll  have  you  know  that  I  have  sat  five  seconds  on  a  bucking  horse  once  when  I  was  fifteen,”  She  huffed  ,  picking  up  another  cookie.  “I’ll  get  the  money  out  for  this  one  in  a  second,”  Isa  took  another  bite  out  of  her  second  cookie.  “Oh  yes.  We’re  going  to  be  having  the  most  fun  without  you  ,  Anka.  It’ll  be  so  fun  waiting  in  food  truck  lines  for  an  hour  and  eating  food  that  will  probably  kill  me  in  twenty  years.”

———

“Representing your homebase, how loyal of you,” Atticus teased, a smirk toying the corners of his lips, “I admit I’m a better poker player than a horse bettor. Do you think he’ll win, then?” If memory served him correct, the representing horse of Annesburg where the Bellrose family had softly made their landing was Ethereal Code — the silver-haired doubted he could tell hide from hare who would win by gawking at them, and he had the common sense to acknowledge that a long string of wins didn’t fasten a position at the top. “I’m sure mum will be busy keeping tabs on the bar for their Happy Hour while they recap the races on the radio until our ears bleed —” Which he planned on favoring a book on the veranda with his spouse and nothing outside of an ordinary evening.

Arrogantly-set monolids narrowed then, hyperaware of when his sisters would start fussing and prodding as sisters did — between the Bellrose girls and the other two-thirds of the biological triplet set, it was actually like having a herd of rabbits following him around with their shrill calls of oh, big brother!! ( Somehow, Atticus was the sibling on any side of his family someone wanted to scrutinize that was babied to no end, whether twelve when he’d been placed into his new home or thirty. ) “You’re twenty-seven. Don’t tell me you can’t entertain yourself, Jolene,” he told her bluntly, without a harsh edge in his tone that showed he didn’t mind. ( Growing up with so many siblings, it was inevitable. ) His petite hand extended to take her ironically larger one and clasp it in his own, sipping from the lemonade and turning to scan the food vendors in the vicinity and cogitate the options. “Hot dogs, it is. Why not?” No reason to continue practicing kosher if he’d given up on Judaism, he’d always thought. “We could split the fries, then.” Sauntering toward the vendors and tugging her along with, the taller man was eager to break away from the crowded area, he squeezed on her hand when they fell into line. “It’s on me, oui? Tell me how you are. Just don’t make me sit through sweaty cowboys steer wrangling. We could view the dog show.”

“I’D  BE  CRUCIFIED  IF  I  didn’t,”  She  said.  “Though  ,  me  and  Charlie  have  a  bet  of  our  own.  If  Ethereal  Code  wins  ,  he  has  to  change  his  name  to  Bellrose  and  I’m  a  rose  girl  again.  If  the  Strawberry  horse  wins  ,  I’m  still  a  Pearce.  Dreadful  ,  I  know.”  Charles  wouldn’t  go  through  with  it  ,  she  knew  that  ,  but  the  idea  of  her  going  from  Lutz  ,  to  Bellrose  ,  to  Pearce  ,  to  Bellrose  again  was  quite  the  funny  idea.  When  she  had  first  gotten  married  ,  the  idea  of  not  having  her  family  name  was  quite  the  daunting  one  ,  but  four  years  in  ,  it  became  second  nature  to  introduce  herself  as  ‘Jolene  Diana  Bellrose  Pearce’  or  just  ‘Mrs  Pearce.’  Most  back  home  would  call  her  Ms.  Bellrose  ,  so  that  was  a  slight  comfort.  

Jolene  rolled  her  eyes  at  his  comment  ,  letting  him  take  her  hand  in  his.  “Oh  ,  you  know  I’ve  never  played  well  alone.”  Half  an  adult  joke  ,  half  a  true  statement.  Her  brother  always  knew  how  to  push  her  buttons  ,  that  was  for  sure  ,  but  this  didn’t  bother  her.  The  only  thing  that  bothered  Jolene  was  the  fact  she  hadn’t  had  anything  but  some  pancakes  and  a  piece  of  candy  over  three  hours  ago.  

She  brushed  some  hair  out  of  her  face  ,  looking  around  the  rodeo.  “Well  ,  there  hasn’t  been  much  to  tell  aside  from  my  landlord  being  a  bitch  ,  as  usual.  If  we  had  the  money  for  it  ,  I’d  be  looking  for  a  place  to  buy  in  Annesburg  ,  back  home  ,  though  Charles  wants  to  stay  in  Strawberry  ,  if  we  ever  buy  a  house.”  Though  Josie  obviously  adored  her  husband  ,  the  life  of  a  gangster  was  something  that  she  was  not  something  she  was  used  to  ,  even  after  four  years  of  marriage.  “We  will  though  ,  if  I  have  something  to  say  about  it.”  A  stubborn  woman.  

“What  about  you  and  Micah?”  Brown  eyes  went  from  her  brother  to  the  food  truck  ,  trying  to  see  what  was  on  the  menu.  “Speaking  of  her  ,  should  we  get  her  something  to  eat  too?”

[ pride rodeo. ] // @fraulxins​ ; jolene

“We’re gonna wait ‘til auntie Ava’s party to eat, stay with Daddy,” Cyrek implored, tugging Soomi’s hand to draw the white-haired girl back to him, “I can’t chase you the fuck down with the terrible two in the stroller. Mummy has her hands full with Lula and AJ right now.” Splitting their kids half-and-half seemed like a decent idea, until he was trying to navigate the pop-up shoppes and their tents with his sun-allergic secondborn and two-thirds of the triplets in a stroller who were, somehow, out like lights amid the hustle and bustle. His own stomach growling had to be ignored ( and he guaranteed, the idea would be piss poor if he wanted to make it through Ava’s surprise party without upchucking on the fully grown adult dressed like a princess ). Figuring out what to buy Ava for her birthday, especially at the last minute when he’d only just scraped together a few bucks for a cheap gift, was a fucking nightmare — miss hellraiser diva was actually the most difficult sibling of his to shop for ( he’d figured out Atticus would be happy if he bought him a book that sounded remotely sophisticated, and the other two triplets were satisfied with it’s the effort that counts and shoddily drawn cards from his crotch goblins ). Now, Pride wasn’t exactly something he was enthused to celebrate with the schedule reading his full evening at the Milk Bar for Happy Hour next weekend, and his lukewarm ( okay, shitty ) experiences prior — as exuberant as he used to be about them, he figured the gang would be running all over creation having a field day with the festivities.

That included Jolene. Actually, Cyrek hadn’t been the one to notice her — Soomi was enamored with a pin attached to Jolene’s purse, and he expelled a dry sigh when he halted the stroller to scold his four year old about fussing with strangers. “Chica, this isn’t yours, we don’t have permission to just touch it —” he started to explain, when Soomi practically shrieked Jojo! Auntie Jojo! God, talk about his ear-piercing spawn. The punk recoiled to clasp his hands over his ears until the excitable toddler settled down a little, lifting her arms in the air eagerly and exclaiming, Auntie, play princess in the castle with me? “Sorry,” he informed with a grimace, “We’re goin’ to a birthday party. She’s kinda… bouncin’ off the fuckin’ walls about it. I’m just lookin’ for a gift for my sister.”

JOLENE’S  NAME  BEING  YELLED  was  not  something  that  she  was  particularly  unfamiliar  with.  Between  her  siblings  ,  her  husband  ,  and  the  children  of  the  gang  ,  it  was  something  she  was  quite  used  to  ,  actually.  It  was  almost  like  a  second  nature  to  constantly  be  listening  for  the  young  ones  to  be  shouting  her  name  ,  just  in  case  she  was  needed.  Good  practice  for  when  she  was  a  mother  as  well  ,  since  she  was  sure  that  she  would  end  up  with  a  few  of  her  one  at  least  one  of  these  days  ,  if  her  and  Charles’s  plans  were  going  to  end  up  how  they  wanted  them.  

Her  purse  seemed  to  be  particularly  interesting  to  one  of  Cyrek’s  girls  ,  a  little  pin  made  of  silver  with  her  initials  (  Jolene  Diana  Bellrose  )  ,  the  first  gift  Charles  had  gotten  her  before  they  got  married.  The  blonde  woman  took  no  issue  in  Soomi  being  interested  by  it.  “Oh  ,  don’t  worry  about  it  ,  Cy.”  She  took  the  purse  off  of  her  shoulder  ,  crouching  down  to  Soomi’s  level  to  let  her  look  at  it  a  bit  more  ,  blue  eyes  looking  between  Cyrek  and  the  little  girl.  

“I  could  help  you  wrangle  them  ,  if  you  want.  Charlie  is  off  drinking  and  doing  whatever  he  does.  I  could  help  you  shop  too  ,  I’ve  got  some  extra  cash  in  my  purse,”  Josie  said  ,  pushing  herself  off  of  the  ground  and  out  of  her  crouch  ,  pushing  her  purse  back  onto  her  shoulder.

“LOOK  AT  THAT  HORSE  ,  Mars,”  Isabella  said  ,  the  toddler  on  her  hip.  The  auction  stables  were  thinning  out  later  in  the  day  ,  due  to  people  buying  them  out  and  people  who  were  auctioning  their  horses  bringing  them  home  later  in  the  day  if  they  couldn’t  find  a  buyer  that  they  liked.  Good  for  Isa  ,  she  had  thought  ,  she  could  see  if  Mars  liked  horses  in  a  lot  less  of  a  packed  stable.  The  horse  in  the  stall  had  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  the  two  girls  ,  hesitantly  ,  but  still  approaching.  Looking  between  Mars  and  the  horse  ,  Isa  held  her  hand  out.  With  a  sniff  ,  it  seemed  the  horse  decided  that  it  didn’t  like  either  of  them  ,  and  with  a  squeal  and  a  small  kick  it  returned  to  the  middle  of  it’s  stall  ,  causing  both  the  adult  and  the  child  to  jump  a  bit.  “Alright  ,  well  ,  no  horse  then,”  She  sighed.

———

Atti! The shrill beckoning of his name could only come from either one of his triplets, or his sister, Jolene — he doubted Nadia had the gall to shout for him in a sea of people, nor could he imagine it coming out as anything other than a knock-off of his brother’s rasping cords were it Haerin. Turning around, grey eyes floated in search of the blonde through the sea of people — these events were hardly his type, riddled with hive-inducing anxieties that crowds had on him and the raucous sense of intimacy he didn’t care to share with strangers ( it didn’t just preclude to Pride, he would have felt the same at another packed formal gathering ). Dashed in his usual glowing vanity save for the grayromantic and demisexual flags he’d permitted his spouse to paint on either cheek, an awkward but petite smile greeted the bombshell blonde and his eyes met with the foam cup extended toward him, holding out a dangling long sleeve to accept the offering. “I didn’t realize anyone was expecting me,” he dryly humored her, looking down at the cup and stirring it with the straw as the asinine noises of a livestock auction buzzed the entire fairgrounds, “Is the horse racing not meant to be next weekend? Although, it’s not my thing… Neither is the mustang riding. It doesn’t amuse me to watch airheaded cowboys get bucked off wild horses and I’m not much of a gambler. Or a bar crawler.” 

In fact, he was barely interested in rodeos — but he thought that the sight of ponies and… cows could lift Micah’s spirits, as well as meeting up with her sister. One might call the trophy husband a buzzkill for his lack of proclivity to mindless fun, and in return he would have said that not many people with his level of intelligence understood him, either. Sipping from the lemonade, Atticus cast his eyes in search of the tent for the baked goods sale, gesturing in its general direction with dainty digits that barely protruded from his thin sleeve. “Oui. She’s about. She went to see her sister — and I suppose, that means we should spend time together. Nadia must be around, she wouldn’t miss something like this. Shall we go looking for her?” Three was a party, or something like that. He imagined their foster mother was biding her time preparing special menus for Happy Hour next weekend, the proud owner of one of the bars in Obsidian that sustained lively business. “Está com fome? It’s about time for me to take my pills over lunch.”

“YEA  ,  IT  IS  BUT  I  think  they’re  taking  bets  earlier.  Charity  n’  stuff  ,  it’d  make  sense  to  take  bets  before.”  Jolene  shrugged.  With  her  charity  experience  in  High  School  ,  they  would  take  donations  for  a  week  before  the  actual  event.  Easy  way  to  get  donations  ,  especially  with  an  event  as  big  as  this  one.  “I’m  gonna  bet  on  the  Strawberry  one  ,  Empire  Maker  ,  next  weekend.”  She  took  another  sip  of  lemonade  ,  brushing  some  light  blonde  hair  out  of  her  face.  Rodeos  had  never  been  her  thing  ,  even  when  her  adoptive  parents  would  drag  their  kids  to  them  in  their  youth  ,  but  she  always  had  found  herself  enjoying  them  nonetheless.  Charles  was  the  whole  reason  she  was  here  now  ,  he  seemed  to  like  these  more  than  anything.  

“Suppose?  You  don’t  want  to  spend  time  with  your  baby  sister?”  Josie  teased  ,  shaking  her  head.  Even  since  they  were  little  ,  it  had  been  her  favorite  thing  to  do.  Even  if  it  wasn’t  that  wanted.  Which  is  wasn’t  ,  like  ninety  percent  of  the  time.  “But  yeah  ,  I’m  hungry.”  Due  to  Atticus’s  vast  knowledge  of  languages  ,  it  had  only  slightly  rubbed  off  on  her.  French  and  Portuguese  were  only  small  inklings  of  understanding  in  her  mind  ,  but  she  could  understand  what  Atticus  asked  her.  

“What  d’ya  want?  They  have  funnel  cakes  ,  burgers  ,  chili  ,  hot  dogs.  I  kinda  want  a  everything  hot  dog  ,  personally.”

IF SHE WERE TOTALLY HONEST, Nadia was just excited to participate in the pride events that were taking place around town. That explained exactly how she found herself at a horse auction, using the excuse that she was scouting for possible horses the circus could adopt. In reality, she was just enjoying the act of viewing the large animals, taking in the name given to each. As she tried to peer at one, she took a step back when the girl in front of her spoke up. “Oh, no, you’re fine. Sorry if I was leaning over you or anything.” Twiddling the amethyst around her neck, that was said to relieve stress, Nadia took a step back, as to welcome the other to take all the space she needed, “Honestly, I’m not here to bid on any of the horses. I kind of just like looking at them. Especially when their manes are put into cute like braids and styled.” Nadia stopped herself from continuing to talk too much, nodding towards the horse that stated the discussion. “Are you here to bid on one? She’s definitely a cutie,” she commented as her head nodded toward the horse. As an owner of a cat and a snake, she had enough animals to take care of, especially with a time-consuming career. 

“NO!  NO  DON’T  WORRY  ,  you’re  fine.”  Isa  thought  the  little  paint  was  pretty  ,  but  she  couldn’t  afford  one  right  now.  Nor  did  she  have  the  space  to  keep  one  ,  especially  with  her  crappy  house  and  working  as  a  nanny.  “I  would  love  to  bid  on  one  ,  though  I  don’t  think  my  one  bedroom  house  in  a  city  doesn’t  really  offer  me  a  lot  of  space  to  keep  her,”  Isabella  joked  ,  looking  to  the  horse  again  who  had  started  to  make  her  way  over  to  the  door  of  the  stall.  “Besides  ,  I  think  she  isn’t  saddle  broke?  I  haven’t  sat  on  a  horse  in  years.”  She  laughed  ,  fixing  black  hair  behind  her  ear.  “What  about  you?  You  thinking  about  buying  her?”

“ATTI!”  JOLENE’S  HIGH  PITCHED  voice  and  accent  could  be  recognized  from  anywhere  in  a  room  ,  or  a  rodeo  it  seemed.  “Where  have  you  been?  I’ve  been  lookin’  for  you.”  And  her  husband  ,  but  she  could  easily  assume  that  he  was  off  drinking  for  the  happy  hour  discount.  Even  if  he  wasn’t  ,  he  would  come  searching  for  her  when  she  didn’t  come  looking  for  him  first.  “Wanna  drink?”  She  asked  ,  holding  out  a  foam  cup  to  him  that  she  had  gotten  from  one  of  the  stands  in  the  little  market  area.  “Some  kids  were  selling  lemonade  ,  thought  I  might  buy  some.”  She  shrugged  ,  bringing  the  plastic  straw  of  her  own  cup  to  her  lips  to  take  a  sip  ,  letting  out  a  small  sigh  when  she  finished.  By  God  ,  it  was  hot.  “Are  you  betting  on  a  race  horse  today?  I  would  but  Charles  says  he  doesn’t  want  to  spend  any  more  money  than  we  already  are.”  She  rolled  her  eyes  ,  slight  annoyance  with  him  but  the  excitement  over  seeing  her  older  brother  overrided  that.  “Where  is  Micah  ,  did  she  come  out?”

[ baked goods sale, valentine fairgrounds ; june 11th. ] // @deadeyestart​

Oh, they were already having so much fun. Anka had woken up early to catch the worm for their Saturday and strung rainbow beads through their hair to match their outfit, a rainbow-colored, frilly cowgirl dress and their late husband’s black suede Deadwood cowboy hat. The brim was pulled down slightly while they worked under the tent to prepare the baked goods they’d carried down from the bakery on the tray — funfetti monster cupcakes with kooky eyes and wacky faces thanks to Haerin’s wondrous cake decorating, cookies, blondie brownies with food coloring dye ( and lemon bars, their favorite! ), a vast selection of pies and, of course, jams that were labeled with cute little ribbons replicating Pride flags. “Oh gosh, watch out, partner, these are still waiting t’ set up!” the brunette exclaimed, their mitts cupping the tray and moving it to the table out of reach of the general public’s hands, “Everything else is all ready to go. What’s looking the best to ya out’a all the hard work?” They had to say — the icing work had really outdone itself today, and they were curious what people’s favorites would crop up to be. “Are ya enjoying all’a this hubbub at the rodeo so far? I’m excited to see the steer wrangling tomorrow myself. Wonder if anyone’ll last the eight seconds on the bull?”

“YOU CAN’T EVEN SPARE a jam for me?” Isa teased , a smile growing on her face as she approached the stand of Anka. Knowing well that they would be in the Valentine rodeo , Isabella had to make time to visit them. What else would she do while Mars was off with Ellie? Day drink? A very viable option , but that wouldn’t look too great on her. “But a cookie would be mighty fine,” She said with a hum , eyes scanning over the selection before picking up a chocolate chip cookie. Quickly , she opened up her purse , picking out the money she needed and setting it on Anka’s table. She took a bite as her friend spoke , bringing her hand up to her mouth to cover her chewing. “Absolutely not. I’m more excited for the bronco bucking , you think they’ll let people from the audience do a round?” She asked , head tilted to the side a bit. “They used to do that in my hometown.”

———

The rodeo was a foreign entity when Ziv had initially come to the country, that huge slab of land between Canada and Mexico declared Obsidian had a few cultural quirks he hadn’t even associated during their time in Warsaw. ( Their idea of alcohol was a little blander than their liking, too, but surely their tongue had desensitized to all that now. ) When it came to horses, the actor was, indeed, familiar with the equine. The stables where they’d resided in Poland had been a past-time to help them crunch through college, and the remainder of their earnings from their adolescent gigs. The past few years, they’d resigned themselves to merely admiring the majestic creatures, though they knew their prosthetic was a different realm from the four-legged beauties ( half the racing owners out there would be happy to snap their fingers and say goodbye to their horse when it turned lame, rather than out to pasture to live happily without the racing stripes ) — still, they hadn’t yet worked up the confidence to give it a try again. Dark orbs scanned the stalls docked with mustangs for auction, Ziv couldn’t constrain the thought that wild things shouldn’t be resigned to the boxes. Footsteps crunched along the half hay-laden walkway, and they stopped to peer into each stall, attire as gaudy as the occasion called for with a pink feather dashed into their long blonde waves. “You’re not blocking my view,” they assured; if anything, they were keeping a respectful distance — the paint looked spooked enough, as any feral animal would be with all those prying eyes, “She definitely doesn’t look ready to ride. Thinking of buying her?” Their head cocked inquisitively, taking a shuffling step closer to read the mare’s assigned clipboard. If they ran into Stella later, maybe they’d ask the brunette if she were remotely interested in seeing the horses. “Baby on board. Cute. A two-for-one package.”

“OH  ,  NO.  I’M  A  nanny  ,  I  can’t  afford  a  horse  right  now.”  Isa  shrugged  ,  looking  back  to  the  horse.  “She’s  in  foal?”  She  pushed  herself  fully  off  of  the  wood  ,  peering  beside  Ziv  to  see  the  clipboard.  “No  ,  even  if  I  could  ,  I  wouldn’t  buy  her.”  She  brushed  some  dark  hair  behind  her  ear  ,  looking  between  the  mare  and  the  man.  “I’d  need  a  horse  ready  to  ride  right  now.  What  about  you?  Looking  for  a  project?”    He  didn’t  really  seem  like  the  person  to  work  for  a  project  horse  ,  but  hey!  Isabella  had  met  a  whole  lot  of  odd  people  when  she  moved  to  Obsidian  and  Valentine.  Who  was  she  to  judge?

“You  wouldn’t  be  able  to  do  too  much  with  her  if  you  wanted  to  start  working  right  after  her  quarantine  ,  since  she’ll  probably  have  a  foal  and  then  need  recovery  time.”  She  could  remember  her  father  trying  to  work  his  own  project  horse  when  she  was  about  eight  ,  her  and  her  mother  watching  as  he  absolutely  failed  to  get  on  the  wild  mustang  for  the  first  time  ,  but  his  pride  didn’t  allow  him  to  admit  that  he  wanted  help.  

“There’s  another  mare  with  similar  markings  in  the  stall  down  on  the  left  side  ,  number  fifteen  I  think?  She’s  a  lot  more  broke.”  It  felt  weird  to  talk  to  someone  about  horses  again.  Most  Isabella  had  talked  about  them  in  the  past  three  years  was  in  passing  to  Ellie  ,  and  occasionally  with  Mars.