&&. a walking horror film

STATUS: Closed ( @roxannegold​ )

“Alright, so get this-” The brunette instantaneously pulled out the chair on the opposing side of the person, taking it upon herself to sit down. Rather abrupt, it would’ve come off as rude if it were anyone else besides her. “I had this EXTREME dream the other night where I was Christina Ricci in ‘Casper.’ Hold up- it doesn’t stop there, folks!” Ramona paused for a moment, letting the intensity of her storytelling build. “The FUCKING PURGE starts to happen. Right in the middle of a happy ending with the friendly ghost, himself!” Her voice incredulous.

“So, I guess what I’m trying to get at, is: Would you take on a ghost lover? Also, how would you handle the purge when it becomes a legitimate thing in the near future?”

Josie didn’t know how she ended up at the boiler room with the daughter of the du Pont-Moreau family whom she had crossed paths with a couple of times. It was definitely not what she envisioned herself doing on a random weekday night but somehow, she wasn’t bored. It was definitely a story she could tell if she ever needed to name drop someone. She let out a chuckle just at the thought of online dating, she never needed to worry about these types of things. At least, not yet anyway but that was a worry for another time. Right now, she was enjoying the vibe of the lounge and the company she had was entertaining. “Honestly - and this is going to sound really lame, but I’ve been with the same man most of my life. Not to say he doesn’t have horrible date planning or ideas but other than that, I’m boring,” she offered. “Probably the wrong choice to get some gossip out of,” she joked as she took a sip of the drink in her cup. 

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The blonde instantly groaned at the lack of juicy gossip. “Like, ew - gag me with a spoon, why don’t ya?” Her eyes naturally rolled, her finger stirring her drink habitually. “I was really hoping you’d surprise me, too.” Her tone defeated, making it come across as self depreciation in the ways of getting her own hopes up to watch them all crumble down. “I don’t believe in the whole marriage thing.” Heather stated, popping an olive into her mouth. “I think we’ve evolved passed that? Everyone has sex on the brain, and men are far too easy to manipulate. Why settle down, when you can just relish in the attention of someone in your contacts?” The young woman voiced before shrugging, “But, what do I know?” She threw some of her drink back before mentioning, “Is the sex still good, at least?”

Online dating wasn’t something that Hennessy was too knowledgeable about. In fact, he had never made a profile. Something about it was off to him, and - not only that - he didn’t know how to talk about himself. It was something he thought he would get over as he got older, but… well. At least he didn’t have any horror stories which it seemed were the only thing that the girl was able to supply. Did it work for anyone? Not from what he had heard. He would stay away from that, thank you very much! “I don’t actually date that much,” he admitted, swirling his drink in his glass and shrugging. “I think it works better when I just… you know, don’t.”

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It was intriguing to hear such a confession come from someone so easily. At least, to her it seemed easy, or maybe that was just the warped perception she held due to the alcohol. The blonde debated on sharing that she, also, did not partake much in dating; ultimately deciding to hold-off so that she could see just how open this individual was, before stating so herself. “What works better?” Her hazel eyes flashing with a genuine curiousness, a tiny disconnect as she attempted to decipher the speech that seemed color-coded in its deliverance. “There’s no such thing as dating anymore, to be fair. It’s all about who you can get in bed for the night.” Her shoulders popped up in a casual shrug.

The sound of a familiar voice made Sparrow jump slightly. Oh shit. Out of the people in town who he should have talked to about coming back, Ramona may have just topped the list. He ought to have said something to her about returning instead of just showing up, but he’d been hoping he’d have more time in order to come up with an excuse to do so. He paused, staring at her for a moment and cleared his throat. “I’ll, uh. I’ll pay you back when my bank stops fucking around.”

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Ramona blinked. Of all the things he could say in this very moment, he chose to talk about paying her back rather than why he hadn’t told her he was back? Bewildered was an understatement, her arms instantly crossing over her chest. “Uh-huh. Anything else you want to say to me?” It was a classic line of hers, mostly stated before she brought the hammer down. “Preferably, I’d like to know why you’re back and why you didn’t tell me?” She helped him remain on track with what she was trying to pry from him.

HUMMING TO HERSELF AND SHUFFLING THROUGH THE TELEVISION’S SETTINGS AND VIDEO GALLERY  ,  young Aera tapped her chin with one finger in thought and took her sweet time in figuring out whether she wanted the popcorn settled in a different bowl  ,  or was it worth having two bowls when only one was far more convenient  .   “  I’ll have what you have,  ”  finally she replied  .  Decision-making was never her strongest suit  ,  hence why she let her friend choose the movie for that night .  Settling the remote down on the couch  ,  the little artist approached the kitchen in order to help Ramona with the transfer of the snacks from the counter to the couch and upon being joked around for never actually watching Trick ‘r Treat  —  soft  ,  pink lips curled into a small smile  .  “  Listen  ,  ”  she began  “  I was told to eat rainbows and to sleep in rainbows as a child  .  Horror movies are unheard of in my world  ,  but the month of Halloween is all about scares and wicked things lurking in the night  ,  ”  her gentle voice dropped to a hushed whisper  ,  “  and you are  ,  like  ,  the specialist in that department  —  which is one of the many things I adore about you  .  ”

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“You sure?” Ramona’s hands already moving to pour the candies in with the popcorn. She knew her friend had a habit of people-pleasing, and tried everything in her own power to assure Aera was doing what made herself happy. It wasn’t shocking for the young woman to turn around and be met face-to-face with her best friend. “Oh, thanks.” She stated, though her tone was filled with the fact that the help wasn’t necessary. Ramona was the type that could juggle a good portion of items in her hands, thanks to her really early jobs of being a waitress. It only cemented her stubbornness, when she really did need help. Plopping on the couch with a laugh, she took a sip of her root beer. “I’m listening.” She stated, reining back from a joke that popped in her mind. “It’s just so... interesting.” The brunette stated, obviously in shock every time she’s heard this fact from the other. “Who doesn’t like horror movies?” The baffled tone remained, though as her friend praised her, she couldn’t keep a smile away from her lips. “Thank you, thank you. I really need a name tag that says ‘horror movie specialist’ - maybe everyone at work will take me more seriously then.” She joked, taking the remote in order to scroll through Hulu for the movie.

A few months ago this scenario may have played out a little bit differently for Ethan. He would have relished in the opportunity to rattle off a long list of reasons as to why the gorgeous blonde should stick around for a drink with him. But a lot had changed since then, and lately footy’s favorite headline preferred the company of a few pints and a shag. And so, Ethan opted for the truth. “Wild guess.” He admitted. There really was no way for him to actually tell if she was on a date or not, and he sure as hell wasn’t any good at reading all those pesky signals and shit. However, it seemed that despite falling from grace in the eyes of the sports world, Ethan still was always one to shoot his shot, and he had the goal record to prove it. “I only got one reason for you though.” He offered, resting his forearm on the bar, his naturally smug expression illuminating his features just shy of its full potential. “And it’s that you probably shouldn’t.”

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“Wrong, as well.” She added, running a hand through her hair to shake out her locks around her shoulders. “Do you often get things wrong?” The way her eyes drifted to his beer and then back at him indicated that she was noting his poor taste in decision making. Heather allowed her leg to cross over her other one, bringing emphasis to her tanned legs in her short red dress. She propped her chin up on her hand, awaiting his response only to roll her eyes as he mentioned only listing one. “Damn, talk about a red flag - three requires too much thinking power?” Her smirk twitching at the corners as to say she was pushing his buttons, lightheartedly. The blonde listened, her head cocking to the side as to make sure she was fully processing his words correctly. “Right. So, you want to buy me a drink,” She began regurgitating the plot points leading up to this very moment in time, “I said to list three reasons as to why I should let you, you proceed to only tell me one - and it’s that I shouldn’t?” The young woman took a deep breath before sighing, “Well, after that trainwreck of a pick-up attempt, you owe me a drink for subjecting me to that shit.” 

The other’s dismissal at Cat’s inability to cover something so wealthy was almost enough to cause her to have a break down. Because truthfully, Cat was struggling. Not financially, no, - she was thankful that the first couple of books of her series had brought her enough income to keep her afloat for awhile - but emotionally, mentally, and sometimes even physically if she didn’t do what was needed to take care of one or the other. That’s why she’d ended up here in the first place, when the deadlines for the outlines of the next two books at the least were due and she was having the worst case of writer’s block, unable to really produce much of anything. And even though the outlines were finished, approved and she was well on her way into the book, Cat’s couldn’t help but feel like she wasn’t good enough to be where she was today; it was a real mental struggle these days. “I’m sorry. You know, it’s a term people use when they accidentally do something to cause harm to someone or something.” she responded, trying to hide the annoyance in her eyes. Though, while Cat could feel her face getting red with frustration, there was probably some truth behind the others words. A custom Louis Vuitton had to cost at least six months rent for the apartment Cat was in, and while she had the money, she certainly wasn’t looking to spend it on someone who was clearly so spoiled. “Oh.” Though she was trying to hide it, the humor in her voice was evident and she shook her head, reaching for her purse. “I didn’t realize you were a trust fund baby. Must be wonderful.” She replied, reaching into her own bag - no it wasn’t Louis Vuitton but, the purse didn’t make the person - and grabbed her check book. “How much?” she questioned, lifting an eyebrow in the direction of the other. 

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There was something that flickered in the other’s eyes. Usually, a human would pull back at that point - maybe check-in and apologize for taking things way too far. Alas, Heather did the opposite. Instead, the off feeling she was getting only fueling her to fight back. The blonde never did learn when to bite her tongue. “I know what it means. Incompetent; you know what that means?” Her tone snarky as she shot another blow at the woman in front of her. It would be a lie if the Du Pont-Moreau woman were to say she didn’t get a rise out of all of this. In fact, it was as though she were draining the other’s life force, leaving nothing but the cool air in its place. As the other woman’s face grew red hot, Heather’s shoulders relaxed; an odd sort of fix found in the verbal sparring. Her brow raised as the ‘oh’ permeated the air. It only took the label placed on her, for her to practically roll her eyes out of their sockets. “Still work for the money I spend, but whatever makes this situation easier for you - I guess.” Just the fact that the other attempted to get on Heather’s nerves, brought the thought that she struck a major chord in the other. Did she care? No. In fact, she attempted to make it worse. “Nice attempt, Hannah Montana. That’ll be $22,000.” 

“Do you want me to pour your popcorn into a separate bowl?” Ramona called to the other from the kitchen, not wanting to subject her to the M&M and Milk Duds-infested popcorn once she dumped the candy in. Her housemates were out, and though hitting The Boiler Room sounded like fun, she much preferred staying in. And who better to spend her night in with than Aera. “I can’t believe you haven’t watched Trick ‘r Treat. It’s the embodiment of Halloween in a singular theatrical piece.” The cinemaphile in the brunette was shining through the tsking in her voice. “For shame, Aera. For shame.” She joked with a laugh.

The brightly colored condoms were definitely a sight and while Pearson had tried to ignore them, he couldn’t. He leaned forward in an attempt to pick them up - he was the kind of person to help someone even with their most embarrassing tasks - and held his hand out towards the other, trying to give them back to the appropriate person. He was professional and even though he wasn’t a doctor, he was an advocate for safe sex and even though he didn’t quite know the other’s full story, he was sure they’d be far more useful for her than himself. At the mention of the toy that had fallen out into plain view, Pearson shrugged. “Honestly, you’d be surprised the things that I see and hear regularly.” he sighed, letting his hand move to run over the top of his head for a moment. “You won’t tell me anything I haven’t already heard.” Letting a chuckle escape his lips, he nodded. “I applaud you though; he confidence you carry with it is pretty great. Most people with that sort of thing get so embarrassed. All I have to say is, you do you. If that makes it more enjoyable for you than go for it.” he laughed a little. “As far as being your next client, I can confidently say I don’t think so. Unless your here for the Jones case that’s meeting in an hour than no. I’m not the one you’re meeting.”

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It was his willingness to help a stranger that stuck out to her. Whilst looking back at the building from which he came from, she was shocked to see it was a firm. If anything, he didn’t strike her as the lawyer type. Then again, she doubted she came across as a sex therapist to a passerby. “Thank you.” The blonde stated, a warm smile gracing her features and bringing a warmth to her face. “I’m sure you have better things to do...” Her guilt of taking up any of his time bubbling up in the form of a nervous tick; her hand tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear as she adjusted her throat clarity. “I can’t imagine. I bet your stories can give mine a run for their money.” It was a way to show admiration for what he does. Though known for being quite confronting, Rachael was not well versed in an appropriate lingo for the court setting. Professionalism always made her feel smothered. She laughed at his words, “Confident? Geez, I sure as fuck hope so: I’m a sex therapist.” There was a shamelessness to her tone, obviously proud of her career and all that she does within the path. “I wish I were into more freaky things - unfortunately, the public isn’t a turn on.” The woman quickly shut down his thought process, though there was a kindness in her tone like she appreciated the support anyway. “Which... I am not here for.” She concluded at his mention of a case, her sigh evidence enough. “Well, my ass is lost - that’s for sure.” Her lack of filter somehow working with her overall quirky image.

Sparrow might not be much of a cook, but he still had to eat. Though he was staying with his younger sister, he wasn’t going to eat all of her food. He already felt as though he was imposing enough. He loaded the check stand from his cart - everything from apples to yogurt - and then gave the cashier a tight lipped smile that only wavered when his card was declined. He frowned. “Sorry, just give me a sec…” he mumbled, running it again. Nothing. It wouldn’t be a problem if he had cash on him, but he’d used the last of it this morning. He brought up the banking app on his phone as the line grew behind him. No, there was money in the account. He turned to the next person in line. “I have to run another card, but it won’t be more than five minutes.” The rush of the day, the perfect time for his card to decide it wanted to act up.

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For a second, she was tempted to chuck an apple at the male’s head. Not to hurt him, but for him to turn around and she’d get the answer she needed. A huge percentage of her was in denial, for good reason. Why would Sparrow be back and not tell her? It was that thought alone that had her convinced she was just imagining it all. Some strange ghost of a person she conjured up. Ramona believed it too, that was until she was right behind him. Suddenly, the sound of his voice wasn’t as calming as it once was for her. Questions filled her head, overflowing into the irises of her hazel eyes. “I got it.” The brunette quick to hand the cashier her card, finally making her presence known. Her eyes flashing him a questioning look.

⥨

The night was still young – or so Ethan thought. Far too young for him to be smack in the middle of some shore town bar making small talk with a townie. Not with an empty pint glass in hand anyway. He went to grab reinforcements, catching a glimpse of an animated blonde as he made his way over to the bar area. She was pretty and deep in a conversation that he was almost positive half the bar could hear. There was something about BBQ sauce that amused him— though Ethan was as more of a ketchup kinda guy — and then something else about titties. This had him raising a brow, his signature smirk beginning to unfurl against his lips as the conversation continued. “Nah, but it looks like yours might be heading that way.” Ethan blatantly interrupted, sidling right up to the counter beside the blonde as if the question was intended for him in the first place. He had no shame and cocked his head to side. “What do you say I get you another drink instead?”

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It was a voice she wasn’t used to, her eyes immediately looking in his direction only to realize he was quite literally inserting himself into the conversation. The seat that was now open to her right, held hostage by the individual who seemed to have a lot to say. Her brow raised, amusement flickering in her irises as she debated on entertaining him or not. Heather knew his type all too well; if his oozing dominant personality didn’t make it obvious, his taste of beer surely would. It’s a sort of takes-one-to-know-one spidey sense that graces a player when they’ve been playing the field for as long as the blonde has. “What makes you think I’m on a date?” It was genuine curiosity, if not a clever way to come across as naive and innocent. At the end of the night, a wolf’s gotta eat. Just depends on who could hold her attention and for how long. She’d be a liar if the blonde were to turn around and say this mystery man wasn’t up her alley - bold, conventionally attractive, fit physique, foreign. A smirk of her own turns up at the corners of her lips. “Give me three reasons why I should.” Her smirk cascaded out, giving him a challenge instead of giving into him so easily.

“Sometimes I wish medical training to the degree that we have was required in public schools. That way people would be much less likely to do things that are stupid or chaotic. But, because it isn’t required unless you’re training for a position, you end up with so many people that just, are careless.” he shrugged. Looking at the other in an attempt to keep his eye off of what was going on in the water, he nodded. “It must be. The amount of people out today detects that. What all has been going on with you today?”

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Ramona nodded attentively, displaying that she was not only taking in what the other was saying but that she was processing it all. “I feel that even if it were taught; which it should be in today’s day and age, that there would be no difference?” Though she agreed with his point, she also took a step back and was able to look at trends. “Financial literacy is ignored, the DARE program doesn’t work - why would kids take a safety course, seriously?” She asked, taking the words as it fell from her mouth. “I do agree that it’s carelessness, but I think that’s how young people are nowadays. Invincibility complex and all.” The woman shrugged, her head tilting to the side as he further prodded for more information. “It all started when I couldn’t find my right slipper. Then, the Keurig was broken, so I went to Bella Vida. Turns out, they were out of the dark roast, and the medium roast wasn’t enough to fuel me. So, to balance it out, I had to get espresso shots - which my whole body was vibrating because it was too much caffeine. I came so close to almost hitting someone with my car, and damn.... I could really go for a soft pretzel right now.” 

STATUS: open

She’s been out for hours, though it felt like minutes. The live act has come and gone, but the golden-haired woman still found herself swaying in her barstool to the afterglow of the melodies that vibrated through her chest from the booming speakers; A ghost of how electrified she once felt. Her hair in messy waves, her shoes forgotten somewhere on the floor from all the previous dancing. Now, she was beyond a few drinks in, and engulfed in a conversation with someone she roped into her night on a whim. Drinking her martinis filthy, she never really knew when to stop. Her mind not being able to land on a singular thought, but she somehow managed to articulate without slurring, carrying on the conversation without missing a single beat. “And don’t get me started on those profile taglines! Like, what am I supposed to say to come across as so interesting?” Anyone whose spoken to her knows she wasn’t boring - far from it, actually. “So i’m sitting here, barbecue sauce on my titties-” It was so natural for her to throw in a joke as her ‘pitch’, snickering as she played upon the dread of modern dating and all it’s come to with these various apps; as if she actually partook in the scene, when she didn’t. “And all just to impress Jake whose holding a dead fish in his first impression photo? Fucking, please.” She rolled her eyes, swirling her drink in her glass before bringing it to her lips. This was what she was good at; the fabrication of a relatable skin - a way to entertain and entrance. “Oh-! Have you had any disaster dates?” Her eyes gleamed with amusement, the lights reflecting in them causing a glittering effect. Ultimately withholding the fact that this specific knowledge that she was prodding for, was her main target for her fill of juicy gossip.

“WE’RE ALL JUST THE SAME - WHAT A SHAME”

INTRODUCING…

NAME: Ramona Colette Sari

GENDER & PREFERRED PRONOUNS: Cis woman {She/Her}

AGE: 28

BIRTHDAY: September 10, 1994

ZODIAC: Virgo Sun, Gemini Moon, Aries Rising

SEXUALITY: Bisexual {Fem preference}

FACE CLAIM: Lulu Antariksa

LABEL: The Protagonist

OCCUPATION: Crime Analyst (Outreach Unit of CMPD)

CURRENT RESIDENCE: Downtown

CHARACTER PLAYLIST: HERE.