kiera renee denver.

Lot's been happenin' in Misty Mountain, as of late... Y'all got to come up with the questions last time, and this time I've come up with some of my own. Reblog this post to participate, and get to askin' your fellow Mountaineers the hard hitting questions... I've got a feelin' the inside of your heads are lookin' mighty dark as of late.

🎧: you haven't tried to leave town yet... who's the only person you'd do it for?

💋: if you knew your last kiss was tomorrow, who would you want it to be with?

😱: buck was a pretender... if you thought another one was walking around, who would it be?

🧣: who have you just wanted to strangle lately?

👖: the world is ending! who are you slipping out of your jeans for one last time?

🛒: what's the last meal you'd wanna cook for yourself?

💄: surprise, my kiss was poison! you have two minutes to live, but you finally got to kiss me... in your wildest dreams, who am i?

💍: fmk: buck, [blank], [blank] 

👅: reveal one awful thing you thought about buck whitaker.

👾: reveal one awful thing you think about someone close to you.

🤨: reveal one awful thing about yourself.

🌶: have you ever gotten so mad you wanted to to kill someone? who? 

🎞: do you think you're strong enough to kill? 

🍸: what's the worst thing you've ever done while you're drunk? 

✨: if someone offered you the chance to forget everything that's happened in the last few months, would you do it?

😡: tell me off like i'm someone you're mad at.

😬: imagine you knew buck would die that night at the water tower. would you have tried to save him?

😢: would you have shot bobby hugh?

😁: would you have shot lou or major? 

👁️: what do you think you would see if you looked into the Man Eaters head? 

 🔪: do you think it's wrong that sheriff buddy is in jail for a crime he didn't commit? 

 🔥: would you take the fall for someone else's murder? 

💀: be honest... do you want to bang an abignale? which one? 

⚠️: if vesta asked you to shoot a gun, and lined up a "witch" in your crosshairs... would you pull the trigger?

Well, well, well... It's been a little while since we got to have a little chat, huh? We're all just DYIN' (too soon?) to know what's on your minds over here, so - what do you say to pullin' up a chair, and havin' a good little bout of Front Porch Gossip? Some say it heals the soul!

"For you, maybe. I have located the stash and it's in my parents' kitchen. To have the level of energy necessary for grunt work, I will be having a sugar crash the likes of which Misty Mountain has never before experienced," Rosie quipped, the words not a total lie.

With all of the horrors she'd endured lately (the mysterious voice in the shadows with Lou, the troubling nightmare, etc.), sleep had been elusive. She was relying on candy to get through the day. But the exact level of her consumption was heavily exaggerated. A lighthearted comment, easy banter that was reminiscent of Before.

And maybe Kiera was feeling the shift too, because her question hadn't been ignored, the conversation cut short. Instead, Rosie watched her carefully to see how it was received. To note the exact tone and expression with which a response was delivered. Because while once upon a time she'd known Kiera even better than she knew herself, that was no longer the case. She needed some sign that their friendship, though strained, was not over. The carousel ride at the Flurry Festival had given her hope, but Valentine's? The holiday that meant the most? That was truly the deciding moment.

Rosie had been so careful to make it a good day, to avoid any confrontation that could blow up in her face. But taking in the girl's words, she could only be thankful that she'd taken the chance. High risk, high reward. Because Kiera wasn't cruel. Flowers were their thing. She wouldn't have mentioned them unless it meant something.

"If she'll have me." She couldn't help the grin that had spread across her face.

Even so, she could feel the warmth of the other girl’s smile as she shared Kiera’s sentiment. “I think she’d be a fool to pass that up.” Perhaps the cynics were right about Valentine’s. Forced and fake, playing the part for a day. “Heard you’ve got some pretty good reviews.” Then again, there were worse things to do than try and breathe life back into a friendship, even if it would likely fizzle with the aforementioned sugar crash.

Endured was a word that sat heavy on Kiera’s chest. That Rosie had gotten the thing she wanted and held it like a burden. “Those were the worst years without a doubt.” A conscious effort to push through the bitter taste in her mouth. It was a nice moment that didn’t deserve to be ruined.

Her gaze flickered to the paint cans, then back to the half-finished booth. She could still feel the tension of the past hour coiled in her shoulders, the weight of a dozen different things she hadn’t had time to unpack. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, letting someone else take a little of it off her hands.

“You start there,” she nodded toward the opposite end of the canvas. “I’ll meet you in the middle.” The phrase sat strangely in her mouth, unintentional weight behind it that she quickly shoved away. It was just painting. Just getting a job done.

She dipped her brush back into the paint, stealing a glance at Kiera out of the corner of her eye. “Did you ever finish one of those Paint By Numbers things? Or’d you get bored halfway through?” There was the faintest trace of amusement in her voice. If Kiera was gonna be here, they might as well pass the time.

Surprisingly, it’s Abilene who breaks their professional silence first.

“Abilene Pryor,” Faux offence filling each word as her gaze flickered up to the other girl. “Are you calling me a quitter?” Even if it was met with nothing in response from Abi, Kiera got a small giggle out of it. “Yeah, I finished them. Fire place always had a funny looking canvas propped up against the wall until I got too old for it.” So painting was almost nostalgic, and she’d probably be lingering around until Liliana whisked her away or Abi asked her to leave. “You got anything like that?”

From a glance, you could assume it wasn’t exactly the same – but Kiera would never say that. “I bet you can play an instrument or sing really pretty.” Nothing factual to back up those claims, yet they tumbled from her lips regardless. “Real voice of an angel, y’know.”

"Lookin' for some good karma, then?" Pity would never blame a person for doing something 'good' in exchange for brownie points from the world around them. Hell, the few times she went out of her way to do something Kind Of Good, it was just to meet her Good Person Quota of the month -- something to keep her life... as on track as it could be. The pessimists said that there wasn't such a thing as a selfless act, that even the kindest things were done to make a person feel good about themselves... Maybe she was a pessimist -- she probably was! -- but at least she could recognize that doing something good to feel nice didn't take away from the fact that it was still good.

Serendipity accepting Kiera’s offer of roping her into further events was met with a bright smile. With someone she knew a little bit better, there probably would have been arms thrown around her – but believe it or not, Kiera was trying to be chill and cool in front of the other girl. “Obviously, I won’t put your name down without talking to you first.” But she had the green light to talk to her!

“Which, by the way, I hope it’s okay to ask –” Not that she really waited for approval. How do you tell someone if a question is okay to ask or not, if you haven’t heard it? “Do you like it when people call you… Pity? Because, like, there’s so many options. Like Ser or Ren. And your full name is gorgeous. Shouldn’t have to shorten it if you don’t want to.” Unless Serendipity herself had started the nickname. “Not that you’re not totally cool enough to pull it off.”

She leaned back slightly, eyeing the half-finished paint job with mild disdain before wiping her hands off on the back of her pants. Something she was sure her mother would chastise her for later. "Paint’d be useful," she admitted. "Extra hands," she hesitated. "Well, guess that depends on whether you can paint inside the lines."

Abilene had no patience for mess, not when she was already stretched thin, and her own work looked like child's play. But something about Kiera’s offer made it harder to dismiss outright. She wasn’t here to make small talk, wasn’t hovering for the sake of it. She was offering something.

“I can do that, yeah.” She wasn’t in the running for any best artist awards, but she could follow instructions well. Whatever artistic vision Abilene had started, Kiera was sure she could seamlessly slip into. “My mom was obsessed with Paint By Numbers when I was a kid.” Or perhaps that was just an easy thing to keep a small child occupied with.

Kiera gracefully moved to take her spot next to Abi. Not too close, cautious of smothering the other girl, but enough to help. “Do you want me to start on this side and then meet in the middle? Or is there something else you want me to do?” Of course, she took meeting the first criteria as acceptance.

Without a specific assignment for St. Cupid's prep, Rosie'd decided to do a little bit of everything. Coffee runs. Conversation to distract from tricky group dynamics. And finally, a little decorating.

She hadn't meant to seek Kiera out, but... force of habit. She'd naturally gravitated towards her oldest friend, and they'd been working in near silence ever since. And though others may have been around, an occasional murmur about the task at hand was the only sound out of Rosie's mouth for at least the past ten minutes.

She'd needed to concentrate, she reasoned. Roses are a particularly difficult flower to arrange. The excuses she used to reassure herself were flimsy at best. Truthfully, she simply didn't know how to approach Kiera anymore. While once upon a time she would have made a quip about the holiday or teased their upcoming plans, they hadn't spoken in weeks - since the Flurry Festival. Months ago.

What were you supposed to say when making small talk with the person you used to tell everything to?

"No, yeah," Rosie agreed, one final adjustment of the garland they'd just hung up punctuating her words. It was good to have something to focus her attention on, a reason to not turn to her friend with pleading eyes, begging for a return to years past. "If there's anything I've learned from my time at the museum, it's that Misty has to outdo itself ever year. I think we are spendin' more time setting up than they used to, but then again we also don't have a sugar rush from Valentines candy to make time go faster."

Chancing a glance in Kiera's direction, Rosie kept the breezy tone of the conversation going, even while asking a question that blurred the lines. "Speakin' of all loved up, will you be enjoyin' the festivities with a valentine this year?"

“There’s probably a stash we could raid somewhere.” But no attempt was made to start a search. Especially considering circumstances that had Kiera a little more aware of her figure in recent months. “Although, I think it’s kinda nice to know there’s not gonna be a brutal sugar crash on the fifteenth.”

Rosie’s next question made Kiera stumble a little. Surprisingly, not it the way that made her close right up. Just enough to notice how much she had been relying on Rosie’s name. Did anyone care enough to relay that back to the other girl? Should she be upfront about the assumption she had been spreading to anyone who cares to ask about the smile on her lips. “Well, there are some roses put to the side for someone.” Enough of a hint to hope intentions were obvious, but vague enough to deny if Rosie turned around with some ‘I didn’t think we would do that this year,’ dismissal.

Despite everything, there’s a brief moment where Kiera just wants to spill to her ex best friend. Call it holiday nostalgia – or more accurately, the fact this year wasn’t like all the others. But what was there to actually say? ‘We’ve been really busy, but I’m sure it’s gonna happen!’ The question was more of an assumption in Kiera’s mind. A potential. Except to say that, the question would come of who. Then how did he end up interested in you. Blackmail, stripping. The giddy excitement of telling Rosie there was finally a boy that liked her had to die in her throat.

Instead, a coy smile playing on her features. “Are you? With a valentine this year?”

In any case, at least she could justify it by saying she did not know Karen very well. Much like the majority of the residents, she would only go so far as to call her an acquaintance -- 'friendly' acquaintance if she felt daring! She did help her decipher that the orange was just an orange, after all -- that was very friendly of her. She was really doing it! She was really reintegrating with great success! Now if only she knew for sure that Karen's name was, indeed, Karen...

"Ain't gonna turn down free food." -- not the real reason she signed up (no, she signed up because it would be an excellent way to observe, to scrutinize, everyone in the town without them directly observing, scrutinizing, her back), but a decent cover! Yes, she would not turn down having a meal she did not have to prepare for herself, that was absolutely the reason! And the power tools, but... that was genuine, she quite enjoyed the power tools. And then... oh, at least she had already laid the groundwork with Karen to engage in... horrifying small talk! "Doin' it outta the goodness of your heart?" She truly was braver than the Marines.

Goodness of her heart, though no doubt backed by good intentions, somehow felt like it had a weight to it. Perhaps fuelled by guilt that she was not as good as she assumed when the sun went down. Or by the fact she was assumed as the most boring kind of person. Dramatic, much?

“You get back what you put out there.” It was a stupid mantra passed down from her mother. Years of things put out in the universe still waiting for them to be returned. “Plus, my parents thought it’d be a really good opportunity.” To give back to the community? Get brownie points? She wasn’t even sure, but she knew better than to question directions.

It didn't seem like that much of a deal to speak the truth: Lulu, like the rest of the Bankses, had stared in the eyes of death, unafraid. "Well, it's true." She gave the other girl a shrug, nonchalant. "One of the only things in life that's certain, ain't it? Doesn't mean I'm temptin' anything to acknowledge it. Just means I like to live my life scared of nothin'." Not even sitting in the front row every Sunday could have God on someone's side, proven by the only funeral she'd be attending this decade.

"I know how to make cocktails no one's ever heard of and which whiskey's the most expensive when I wanna fuck with the men who look at me wrong." Lulu offered a small smile, understanding the quirks that came with a job that made the wages they did.

“I guess you’re right.” Though it was a sentiment that still made Kiera uneasy, there was nothing in Lulu’s words that were wrong. It really was the only guarantee they had. Scared of nothing, it was a sentiment she wished she could share. Even now with her adventure to live life a little closer to the edge, there was always that nagging fear of being caught. “Are you really not scared of anything?” Or was that just something people said? Was fearless an impossible standard to hold herself to?

The fun fact shared went over Kiera’s head for a moment. Too caught up in trying to think of cocktails she could name or how expensive whisky could be a revenge. Until it finally clicked. An olive branch. Understanding. Something they had in common despite being nothing alike. “At least those sound like really cool things to know.”

She was right. It was quick - but Major had always busted his ass about finding the next thing, despite the constant firings. He was lazy, yeah - pretty much a magnet for trouble... but nobody could say he wasn't resilient!

“Don’t like dependin’ too much on Lulu if I can help it. Figure it's about time I, like…” He trailed off, shifting his weight from foot to foot before looking back at her. “Started actin’ like a real man, or whatever.”

“Anyway, I was thinkin’… you ever, like - go to one of those interviews and actually know what to say? ‘Cause I never do.” He waved a hand. "Figure you could, like. Ask me some'a those questions, and I could answer 'em. Practice, or whatever."

“Well, I wouldn’t say you haven’t started before this.” Not that Kiera knew him well enough to make that call. “You had a job, you were making a wage.” And though she didn’t know exactly how long he had managed to keep it, long enough to consider something of a friendship starting between the two. Not that it was especially difficult because the smallest amount of kindness and attention went a long way with Kiera.

“Okay, yeah, tell me a little more about the job. Wait! I mean…” the over dramatic ahem to clear her throat before the faux serious and professional tone took its place. “Tell me, Mr Banks, why do you want to work for our company?” And what is our company, but they wouldn’t ask him that.