𝘼 𝙇 𝙀 𝙎 𝙎 𝙄 𝘼   𝙂 𝙀 𝙊 𝙍 𝙂 𝙀 ...

if  we  stay  where  we  are,  where  we're  stuck,  where  we're  comfortable  and  safe,  we  die  there...  when  nothing  new  can  get  in,  that's  death.    ⸺    original  character  dependent  on  vancityroleplay.

—

“Play your cards right and maybe I’ll teach you the tricks of the trade,” Naz quipped back with a little laugh. She didn’t need to admit there weren’t any tricks to it, just nine years of learning how to numb herself to the world around her, lest she succumb to her grief. Of living inside the fantasies in her head rather than dealing with reality. 

What one saw as a useful superpower, she just called survival. 

And if she somehow managed to come out on top of it, or even somewhere in the middle of it, without frown lines marring her face? All the better. “I’d almost pay to see you opt for smashing, but I never advocate for wasting a perfectly good drink.” She got it, though. They were driving an otherwise nice evening dead south. “What if we went somewhere else, instead? I’ll buy if you’re up for the chance in scenery.”

setting  her  drink  down,  georgie  held  up  both  of  her  hands  and  bowed  her  head  with  them  in  an  act  of  praising  nazli  for  her  good  will  of  offering  to  teach  her  such  valuable  life  skills.  “my  liege,  i  am  more  than  ready  to  pick  a  card,  any  card,”  she  continued  the  act  with  a  laugh,  lowering  her  hands  to  take  grasp  of  her  glass  of  beer  again.

Not that she needed a reason to see him, but there was no way she was just seeing him just because. Though he was sure it looked like that to others. “You do know that I’m busy around here, right?” He whispered, “Though never too busy for my beautiful wife.” He smiled, trying to keep appearances up. 

He took her hand from his chest, and squeezed it gently before putting it down. “Whatever time works best for you, I’ll make sure to be there.” He’d probably forget it until it popped up on his calendar fifteen minutes before and he had to rush home. “And you couldn’t have told me this through text?” He knows she could’ve, but she for some reason wanted to show up around here. 

“mm,  never  too  busy  for  your  wife,  that’s  the  right  thing  to  say.”  it  was  obvious  that  georgie  took  more  amusement  out  of  their  situation,  and  she  thoroughly  enjoyed  milking  it  for  all  it  was  worth.  hence  showing  up  at  his  business  for  a  free  beer  and  a  chance  to  fiddle  with  the  strings  he’d  let  his  parents  strap  to  him  like  a  puppet.  it  was  endless  entertainment  for  her,  especially  when  she  wanted  to  put  on  the  act  of  a  doting,  clingy  wife.

for: @georgiefms​

where: roxy burger

“I need you to fill me in on–” There’s a necessary pause as Silas literally counts on his fingers just how many lapses in information he believes he’s working with before immediately giving up on that. “Everything, pretty much.” 

He has a baseline that he’s working with thanks to her visits while he was actually locked up, but now that he was out the gaps in what had occurred and the things Georgie had filled him in were growing more apparent by the day. For the most part, he wants to know what she knows of whatever the hell Jordan’s been up to, but he knows better than to bring her up by name and immediately sour their otherwise pleasant reunion. 

He reaches for the red basket of fries that was sat in the middle of the table between them, plucking two to toss back into his mouth, speaking again once he’s swallowed. 

“I’m so far outta the loop I don’t even know where the loop is.”

“i  don’t  know  how  i  can  possibly  keep  us  both  up  to  date  with  the  loop-de-loop  that  is  life,”  georgie  snorted,  reaching  for  a  fry  to  bend  in  half  and  dunk  into  the  condiment  cup  filled  with  ketchup.  in  all  honesty,  after  her..  disagreement  with  jordan  at  the  pub  just  days  previous,  she  couldn’t  help  the  bitterness  that’d  been  rising  in  her  since.  of  course  she  knew  that  silas  couldn’t  have  crashed  at  her  place,  not  with  her  husband  and  her  child  residing  there,  but  something  about  jordan  rubbing  the  fact  in  her  face  so  smugly  had  salted  a  wound  she  didn’t  even  realize  was  there.

she  didn’t  even  know  if  he  was  aware  of  her  and  jordan  running  into  each  other,  but  she  felt  compelled  to  ask.  they  did  live  together,  after  all.

More often than not, Alma was finding those who wore rings on their left hands to be scorned. Maybe she was looking for every reason to continue with her plan to clip her marriage to Theo short as per their agreement, and so she lingered on those ready for a split. Either way, her and those she found were always still twisting the gold band but never taking it off. Something had to keep them giving in.

“I think it’s only fair I get to see what Bear looks like after a remark like that,” Alma said with a grin. “Maybe what I’m lacking is a dog that gives my husband a run for his money.”

Jordan knew she should have kept her mouth shut and ignored Georgie’s existence. It was easier to avoid these interactions for countless of reasons, the main one being her own guilt. Even though she hadn’t been given much choice when it came to Silas going to prison, she’d stopped contacting him throughout the last few years. He’d kept her out of prison and she’d essentially left him there to rot. It was more complicated than that, of course, but she wasn’t going to entertain a conversation with his friend about that. “You’re so fucking dramatic.” Jordan mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But sure, do it, at least then you’d shut up.”

Jace exhales when he hears her voice, turning around to look at her. He stares at her as she pretends to read the note she wrote to herself. “Gonna have to get in line, Alessia.” He places his hands on the surface of the desk as his attention turns back towards the schedule for the day. “He left for the day about ten minutes ago. I’m sure you can run up to his house and talk to him there.” He knows that Georgie has always had an issue with him since her dad (his uncle) moved away from her to come take care of him. He knows he would probably be in some hole in the ground if it hadn’t been for his uncle and that was something he never took for granted yet it apparently made him enemies along the way.

The single malt pleasantly burned its way down her throat. Camille swallowed another mouthful to conceal her amusement, relating to the woman’s anecdote more than she strictly wanted to. “You couldn’t be more right, unfortunately.” She shook her head, exasperated at the mere memory. “God, building furniture? Perish the thought. I fully paid for delivery and assembly, just to avoid the headache of my idiot ex attempting to put baby furniture together, and you know what? Absolutely fucking worth it. I doubt training would help at this point? Not with sports-obsessed neanderthals who couldn’t care one whit about more intellectual pursuits, anyway. Just teaching them ‘sports good, only sports bad’ might take decades alone.”

Isla’s head tilted towards Georgie, her drink following in hand, “Why can’t they fight like women do-” She sighed before taking a slow sip of her drink, all the while listening a little harder to what they were saying. Isla cleared her throat muffling the clear sound of laughter. Shrugging her good shoulder she hid her smile behind her glass, “They can’t help it they get so emotional over their games.” She spoke back quietly, using the same insult many men used to belittle a woman when she felt strongly about anything. “Oh well. Just scoot a little away in case they get really emotional and start throwing a fit.”

He loved going to work because it was a break from being around Georgie. Of course he loved Kaia but when he was around Kaia, he also had to be around his wife. Most people couldn’t get enough of their significant others, but this wasn’t a normal marriage. A shotgun wedding and a baby later, and Berkan was now living the picture perfect life. Or rather lie. 

It wasn’t long before his staff was telling him that his wife was here, and he immediately wondered what she wanted. “You know it’s technically not free. I eventually have to pay for it one way or another,” But that wasn’t the point, and she probably already knew that. She wasn’t stupid at all. “What’s going on? Did you just feel like visiting me today?”

“what,  like  i  need  a  reason  to  come  see  my  husband?”    georgie  wondered  aloud,  glancing  about  their  surroundings  to  make  note  of  any  other  presence  that  could’ve  been  lurking.  thankfully,  they  were  alone,  but  she  always  made  a  point  to  ensure  they  went  the  extra  mile  to  be  consistently  perceived  as  the  happy  couple  they  were  supposed  to  be.  to  drive  home  the  idea,  she  encroached  his  personal  space  with  a  hand  affectionately  brushing  a  stray  lock  of  hair  from  his  face.

location:   mecca bar & lounge

WHEN: february 14, 2021 WHERE: kitsilano; georgie’s  WHO: beth hughes & alessia george ( @georgiefms​ )

“Open the fuck up!” Beth demanded, fist banging against the wooden slab.

Fine, so maybe she was already drunk. It was Valentine’s Day, and even her grandmother had someone to kiss—and Beth was lonely, and only knew one way to get herself warm quickly and efficiently. The courage the clear liquid lent was a mere bonus. One she’d maintain she didn’t need, fueled by her fury as she was. A fury that thundered against the front door of someone who’d shut more than a physical door on her. A fury that wasn’t fury at all; unless fury, as Beth believed it to be, was synonymous with a humiliating hurt.

oh,  fuck.  fuck,  fuck,  fuck.  the  profanity  only  continued  to  repeat  like  a  mantra  in  georgie’s  head,  watching  beth  throw  her  fists  at  the  door  to  get  her  to  open  up  from  the  camera  she’d  installed  at  the  insistence  of  her  mother.  georgie  never  did  anything  carelessly,  she  did  everything  with  purpose  and  intent.  but  with  beth,  everything  between  them  happened  without  a  care  in  the  world  for  anything  or  anyone  around  them.  they’d  get  lost  in  their  own  world,  and  only  return  the  next  day  with  spotty  memories  of  the  one  they’d  created  for  themselves  for  the  night.

but..  everything  had  changed,  when  things  with  her  and  berkan  had  taken  a  sudden  detour  down  two  line  lane.  as  soon  as  she’d  realized,  texts  and  calls  had  gone  unanswered  for  seemingly  no  reason  on  beth’s  end.  but  she  didn’t  exactly  expect  beth  to  show  up  at  her  front  door,  and.  did  she  really  have  any  other  choice  but  to  answer  it?

The ongoing argument was not one that Viktor wanted to partake in. Containing his passion for hockey came easier when he was presented with these kind of scenarios, eyes flitting from the two men to Georgie, nodding along quietly with her commentary.  “It’s…kind of amusing,” he admitted, careful about his choice of words because pissing off his fanbase could become a headache. “That they are arguing about it at all when neither of them play. It is a bit like bragging about achievements that are not your own, yes?” 

“Yea, well…personally I tend to mind my own business. It’s all a lot less relative that way. I respect your opinion though,” he said, offering a nonchalant shrug. He had enough going on, enough to keep him from being all that engaged in what was happening around him. He wasn’t much of a people watcher in general, to say the least. Unless someone was paying him to pay attention, he didn’t see the point.

There were always mixed feelings for Lochlan when it came to spending time at City Brew Pub, the first place he regularly played at when he moved out to Vancouver. “I’ll bet ya a beer that one of them takes a swing at the other and misses.” A laugh escaped him, his gaze moving from the guys she was talking about and back over to Georgie. “I never really got the whole hockey obsession in this country. I mean I get that it’s alright to watch when the Canucks are winning, but hell…still had to force myself to sit through that. Does that make me a bad Canadian? And yeah…boys and their pissing contests. Ridiculous.”

That was such a smooth and subtle move of calling men dogs and Angelia loved it. A grin quickly formed and for a short while her drink was forgotten. “You could say that again.”

“Men can’t help themselves with anything.”

Of course, that statement came from a bitter woman who’d been through the ups and downs of disappointingly finding herself ensnared in complicated relationships with those creatures known as men.

“Sports and rivalries seem to bring out the worst and most annoying of them though.” Her grin deepened, “want to see some real drama queens? Turn the game off.”

Swirling her drink, Camille granted the tomfoolery in the corner a brief glance. The conversation, clearly audible over the general din of the pub, sounded about as scintillating as a toe fungus extraction. “Apparently, they took the metaphor to heart,” Camille commented dryly, “no playing nice, tumbling around cutely or intrinsic loyalty, but plenty of pissing to mark their territory and humping anything that moves. Trust men to take the wrongest possible meaning, hm?”