washing machine heart

"that," finn intercepted with an amused smile, "would require them talking to each-other when they aren't forced to." parker chuckled in agreement, about to follow up with another quip when anthony returned. in his hands he balanced three drinks, parker quick to take his usual—a whiskey sour—so that he could hand the others to gen and adeline.

Gen grinned, already about to come out with a comment about their parents talking to each other when the drinks arrived. "You're my new favorite person," Adeline declared with a grin and it was all Gen could do to roll her eyes fondly as she said "Cheers,"

silja nodded at the new information, eyes casting a glance outside as if she knew where rumi cafe was. she was good at tucking feathers of information into her proverbial hat, though, so tucked the tidbit went.

She'd expected that to be the end of it, Gen didn't know the other person and she couldn't really be expected to...well she didn't know. Waste her time on handholding someone that she didn't know? Especially what she assumed was a newbie trying to learn the ropes? Gen could be charitable (sometimes) but only if the person was worth the effort. Still she decided to play ball, at least today (maybe she should start a charity) "Yes, I'm a junior - journalism and creative writing," She shrugged before asking "New to town?"

Maybe he just wasn’t in the mood. Maybe their colleagues’ writing really was that bad. Or maybe he was just tired of what seemed like the longest semester of his life… Either way, Edward knew that if he heard another extensive description of the texture of the snow or the color of fallen leaves, he would absolutely HAVE TO plug a fork into a socket and kill himself. This is what happens when you make a member of the Film Academy binge-watch a Hallmark movie marathon. Not that Edward was a member of the academy by any means (even if he acted like he was), but he certainly deemed his tastes way too refined to subject himself to hearing 3 (three!!!) reinterpretations of Love, Actually back to back.

Gen let out a snort as she picked up her slice of pizza. She had to give it to writing club, at least they could be relied on sometimes to get the good pizza. Even if she did have to suffer through a whole lot of bad writing to get there, Gen knew that she was probably at least a bit up her own ass but she liked to think that she could y'know actually write.

with: @genuptoncrane location: the hamptons house when: dec 27th, early morning

Gen hadn't been sleeping anyway, maybe thankfully for Monty.

Nat nodded, taking it all in and trying to find some sort of relief in Gen's words. But either she had been newly inducted into the house of pessimism or she was rightly reading between the lines. Scrambling cops seemed more dangerous than cool, calm, and collected. It meant they were under pressure, which likely meant they'd be putting everyone else under pressure too. But she didn't want to come across as a bumbling idiot, especially not in front of Gen Upton-Crane, so she cracked an easy smile. "Oh, thank god. As long as we've moved on from self-righteous wannabe Criminal Minds, I think we'll be good. Did your lawyer make them squirm? I would have loved to see that."

Gen was trying not to think about it all now, breezing over things had always tended to work for her so why stop now? "Tell me about it," Gen said with an eyeroll "Honestly I think some of them are already picturing how they'll be in a Netflix version," Gen could picture that at least, talking to camera about how they had to solve it. Justice for Ogden's Golden Girl and all that. "John had fun with them," Gen said with half a smirk "He earned his paycheck," The Crane lawyers were better known as pitbulls after all.

A derisive snort in Gen’s direction, a roll of her eyes, and a hand lifted towards the bartender, motioning him over (despite the fact that he was in the midst of another order, Cara knew he would oblige quickly). “I know how to get blackout plenty well on my own, thanks,” she said, sarcasm heavy on the last word as she replied to Greer’s former roommate, the bartender obliging her by sidling over and sliding another shot in front of her - a shot of vodka. Her personal choice for drinking heavily with. She’d stick with the clear liquors. 

"That's obvious," Gen retorted with a snort, she'd never really thought of baby Morrison as such a pill before but maybe thanksgiving pulled it out of her. As much as Gen had found Greer irritating, maybe it was an inherited trait among the Morrison women or was that terribly anti feminist of her? She'd have thought that the Morrisons would hover more, not wanting to lose another kid but then again if Gen had learned anything about parents it was that they hardly tended to give a shit. "How long do you intend to be blackout for? As long as thanksgiving lasts?"

"parker," she introduced, offering adeline—aunt addie—a smile. "this is finn," she continued, briefly turning to motion towards her brother, "and the one who went to grab drinks is andrew." finn reached out to offer a courteous handshake while parker leaned in to catch gen's request.

The family resemblance was pretty uncanny, though Gen wasn't a stem major it was funny how it was easy to tell who most people in the room were related to. She didn't know who had won the genetics battle but clearly someone had there.

Well, that didn't really give her much to go off. But Genevieve didn't seem shaken, so maybe that meant they weren't rabid dogs this time around. Unlikely, but Nat would borrow hope from anywhere she could so she didn't get so deep into her own head that she got stuck there. "What was the general vibe? Are they being hard asses or do they seem pretty chill?"

"Up their own asses," Gen said with a shrug, because that was how it felt like. "Honestly I don't think they really know anything, they were hard asses but the vibe was weird," She shrugged again "If you asked me, I thought they were kinda scrambling," Maybe they thought Greer had been murdered but Gen wasn't entirely sure that they had anything other than that. Which honestly was kinda garbage for people who were paid to do this for a living.

if silja had walked in a pace or two slower, she would've been well aware that she was lining up behind malibu barbie. the blonde stood out among the humdrum of the bustling juice shop—and it wasn't just because silja had bumped into her. there were distinct differences between people who spent most of their time on the west coast, east coast, or in-between and she was willing to bet already that the blonde fell into the former.

Gen tilted her head, maybe she was new? She thought that most people had worked out most of the Ogden hotspots or at least the place to get decent food in like the first week of semester. Yes, Gen would turn up her nose at the dining hall on the regular but it was dining hall food of course she would. "Depends what you want," Gen conceded "Rumi Cafe does god awful coffee but the pastries are okay, most of the time,"

Jacqui winced when she heard the nearby gasps and tittering, wrinkling her nose up as she glanced up at Gen with a hint of sympathy on her face. “I think people are a bit on edge right now,” they murmured quietly. They certainly had been for the last few days, ever since sitting down with the agents about Greer again. “Perhaps not the best time for hyperbole.” Not with the tension currently lacing campus. But hey, that was just her recommendation - the sentiment behind Gen’s irritation was certainly understood. What was it about printers that none of them ever worked reliably?

Gen's eyes automatically rolled at the audible reaction, she was going to sound like a boomer or something but God were people really being such babies? "Maybe if this place had printers that actually worked, I wouldn't have to resort to hyperbole," Gen rested her head on her hands as the printer beeped mockingly. "That'll be a hot tip for the FBI, we can tell them that people get homicidal when the printers don't work,"

"oh, i do consider myself one. are you sure you are? i feel like there's way better final girls out there rather than the one with the 'she's the only one that can beat him' sword storyline." link loved being pretentious and insufferable on any day, but it was that much of an extra kick when it was directed towards gen. "also, i wouldn't only recommend some work on your ideas of feminism in horror movies, but maybe your listening skills as well. i can say it again, though, not the height of horror, but still, it's got its charm in the horror world."

Gen wondered if Link had been born insufferable or if he'd been training for a gold medal at the Olympics of Insufferability. If he was trying for it he was bound to win.

Liam raised an eyebrow in Nate's direction, a smirk playing on his lips as he met his brother's eyes - he was well aware of Nate's history with mothers. Though the flirtation wasn't exactly new territory for him, either, he inevitably got some enjoyment out of it being in front of his younger brother. The infallible rivalry between two brothers who had only had competition fostered between them.

In the end it didn't matter what Gen had said or what she didn't say because Violet Upton-Crane's megawatt smile was on, the one that had made her a billion dollars and an American darling.

who: @genuptoncrane where: the juicery when: between thanksgiving and winter break

Gen was a normal girl who did normal things, like going for a juice after a spin workout.