Untitled

IF THERE WAS ONE ASPECT OF ZELIHA THAT could be agreed upon that made the podcaster such a fit for their career, it was their severe unwillingness to never once hesitate over their unrelenting determination in getting whatever answers they could. Their insistence pushed to being a flaw, as the string of personal relationships that didn't receive the same level of importance in comparison could prove nor the missing finger they were sporting instead of the ten majority of others had. And yet, the brunette couldn't say they regret any of it, as their podcast was flourishing despite the lack of internet and partially thanks to the radio station. "Everyone always does boast about having a house wine that's more impressive than most, and yet," They'd stick to their pricy bottles where they knew exactly what they were getting; as much as Zeliha tried to distance themself, figuratively and physically, from their mother as much as possible, the ability to subtly yet casually pass judgement with one's words was a clear pass down from the parent they hated the most. There was a plethora of places to initially begin to prod when it came to Josette, that much wasn't lost on them, and almost had the normally so self assured investigator pausing in between their words. "I'm not here to talk about the wine, though. Actually, it's their croquettes de courgettes that always have me returning but that's here nor there." Gingerly, their hands came together in their lap to intertwine their own fingers, pleasantly looking over the table at the woman they knew commonly from the research they were familiar with, but on a more personal level as the person who had, at once, had their godson, quote unquote, "kidnapped," if only for a couple hours. "How have you been lately? So much going on in this town, as always."

She looked at him as if she'd seen a ghost — and at once, he hated it. If he had better excuse, he would have torn her to shreds without a second thought and demanded that she should leave. Maybe it would be tolerable, a hundred different times a hundred different ways he had been compared to the spitting image of a sibling he'd never met, that they shared exacting features down to the mismatched set of eyes. One was a fruit and the other a poisonous pit. That perhaps, he'd managed to give Caleb every scrape of noxious cells and share it, or maybe the brine they'd grown in was too toxic and overflowing, because one wasn't there now and the other had tried a thousand methods to take the road most traveled and follow after. But she wasn't looking at him because he looked exactly like Caleb Alcott — she was looking at him like he had his father's eyes, and his mother's bleeding heart.

It made him fucking sick.

josette hadn't helped her image when she had quickly unravelled - she'd tried hard to get herself just the right amount of calm, enough to hold down her job well until heejin had said goodbye to her as a friend, for forever - then eliana followed and she... was a murder suspect? it hadn't been the first time since something like this happened, when josette had been there, been one of the last ones to see someone - it had been the same when she'd rejected her own daughter. however, the woman never expected to become a murder suspect. eliana was someone who was really trying to hold her up, that never complained about her turning up when she needed support (she knew it was better than the alternative) yet people would jump to conclusions... see her as capable of something like that. perhaps she was...

“oh.” the word lands flat, an exhalation of breath more than an expression of interest. fate. abraxis had a complicated relationship with fate, especially in the early years, when the notion of a benevolent force guiding the world felt like a cruel joke at their expense. what mercy, what grace, had ever been extended to them? if fate had a hand in their life, it was the hand of a sadist, pressing its thumb into every tender wound, setting them adrift in misery while others sailed smooth seas. and yet, they had never been the sort to wage war against the inevitable. no, they bore it—again and again, swallowing down that breaking point like bitter medicine. subservient. composed. “when’s the last time you heard it?” the question is perfunctory, a conversational placeholder until he manages to ruin things by asking of matthew's well-being.

they shake their head, this time allowing the faintest trace of sentiment to color their voice, a ghost of something almost—almost—human. “please, join me. i hate eating alone.”

josette nodded in agreement, a soft smile gracing her features. there may have been a time when she'd be rather impatient but was attempting to get less worked up about everything. she had been putting the work in to be able to try control her emotions a little better and once she had stopped thinking everything that happened was the end of the world or a punishment, she had begun to move forward. the woman did feel better and she had been dedicated to keeping up a routine that worked for her - though she had to be strict with herself, the positive benefits were undeniable. some days were better than others, that was inevitable but she was determined to move forward so that she could eventually leave here and leave everything behind with it - it wasn't running, people moved all the time.

He waved it off being her fault. He already planned on taking some of those responsibilities from her shoulders. In the end, the rancher was perfectly capable of taking himself out from behind the stove, or tucked within the wooden walls of his cabin, and exposing his spirit to the real world. Asking after those he considered to be friends, or even acquaintances; instead, he shut up within himself and believed it to be enough. These days, nothing resonated as enough. He did his best to keep the melancholy from seeping through every day interactions, and being near Josette was one such interaction. The last thing he wished to do was drag her down into the dark lamentations eking throughout his mind.

it was all fake, all of it. josette was trying to get better, to get back to where she was before but she would associate her achievements with him and without him, she'd never get back to that point. everything had got far too much and those things should have never happened. she still loved matthew but she was scarred about what he had done to her - yet she would always do best with him by her side. the relationship was far from perfect but comparing it to now was painful because she had missed so much. jo knew it was fucked up, that she shouldn't feel this way after how much he had hurt her, in more ways than one but what made anyone else any different with their comments of ridicule and venom?

Cyrek was already having a shit evening. For one, the machine that dispensed the ice cream for the Cremia cones was fucked, and considering Stella was the only fucking soul in the bar that knew how to fix it when Khadroma didn't pop in, he had been socking it a few times to try and clobber it back into a working state to no avail. That, and he'd already yelled at a couple dozen of a sports team that had piled in after a hockey game when one of them kept throwing their beer glasses on the ground every time he couldn't hear them, to the point he'd been ignoring them out of pure spite, if he were being honest. Only once he had carved out a moment of actual solitude where he could hear his own, equally unpleasant thoughts pounding the sides of his head from the throbbing fucking headache the awful shift had given him, of course, the last person he really wanted to see ( second-last, maybe, as there was really no contest against Stella's ex ) walked right through the double doors, and the cherry on top, stood there like a bump on a log with a hand on her head.

it felt like she was a number one suspect in her mind and no one was willing to give a character testament that said otherwise. how did she sleep through everything? from what she remembered, she was in such a state as the crumbling of her friendships and the realisation of her dead career piled up on her. maybe she had drank, maybe she'd mixed it with meds - she couldn't give a straight answer to that because she didn't know and that was terrifying. josette had been trying so hard to get back on track with a job and regular therapy but she'd somehow landed right in the center of all the tragedies of anchorage. the police were asking questions, treating her like a criminal and it had majorly set her back. everyone would pin everything they had on her if they could - that was her view.

Grabbing people's attention in unsavory manners was nothing new to Salem; she'd never touted an immaculate image as prima ballerina, though she could put on a good show to assuage the newsprint that she was suitable for the image that they'd like to project. Fine arts of the dance world were a subject of astute scrutiny, after all. But now she had nothing holding her back — or the gift she had estranged to keep to herself. Salem's thumbs wrestled together as she sat across from the other, a vague smirk resting upon her visage, her eyes darting in the direction of the empty seat as if listening to another unseen party at the table with them. "Well, that's rude to ask when she's sitting here with us, isn't it?"

it was as if the colour in josette's face had been sucked out at the mention that amelia could be here with her as she was seemingly drinking her sorrows when it was supposed to be an uplifting treat to herself. "unfinished-" the woman was about to interrupt the other but then the last words left her mouth, the words that mentioned him. amelia turning up had certainly been a catalyst for matthew, the reason why he had lost himself in a way he'd never done with josette before and it had left her in a bad physical state and even worse mentally. however, she didn't think that he had ever thought she was his daughter after he had been the one to interact with her first. the woman squinted her eyes; she could have sworn she had just seen the lights of the establishment flicker in their entirety but no one else flinched.

WHILE IT WAS OBVIOUS FROM THEIR CHOSEN PROFESSION that their interests leaned towards all things unexplained, mysterious, and, as some would say, spooky, their lifestyle boasted a juxtaposing preference for the finer things in life. In times like the current when they were struggling to gather enough credible resources to put together the next episode of their podcast (and Zeliha hated the idea of padding one out with nothing but filler chatter, lest it ruin all that they had built it up to be), a day that was dedicated to treating themselves was in order, on the dime of one of their more generous clients, of course. With a preference for a table that left their back against the wall so the rest of the restaurant was left entirely in front of them and in view, magenta-painted lips pressed into a line at the sight of someone already seated exactly there. "I did, and I would have thought a place of this caliber would have more organization to keep track of such reservations." The brunette couldn't be placated by a comped drink, either, as they weren't the one footing the bill in the first place. "I'll be taking a seat. Don't worry, I'll make my complaints known as soon as the waitress returns, but I refuse to be seated elsewhere." The heavy ego they carried on their shoulders left no room for the care that the implication floated that they weren't above making the other move with their statement. A hand adorned with a freshly done manicure plucked the wine list from the center of the table, slight judgment present as they asked, "Is that the house wine?"

Alice had been a bit of a recluse lately and it was mostly due to the fact that she was worried there was still someone out there that was after her. Most days, she opted to work from home and spend time with Rhea. However, Abraxis had told her that they'd treat her to a nice meal so they'd planned to meet up where they'd first met, at the Ivy, to have a meal together after work. When she got there, she didn't see the council person quite yet--however, she did see Jo sitting at a lone table. It had been quite some time since they'd seen each other but she still remembered the coffee that they'd shared and the seeds that the journalist had attempted to plant. No harm in saying hello while she was waiting for her date, right?

josette's eyes widened at the familiar face - the kind individual from the cinema. it had been the night that the empty vhs case had been left at the kiosk for her and in her panic, alice had been the one to calm her down. she herself had been touch and go mentally throughout their shared coffee but that only made the older woman more appreciative of the gesture. when she was losing her friends so quickly, the other had been a perfect example of how there was still good in the world; at least that was what she believed from the moments she'd spent with the other brunette. a lost cause, a black hole, there were many excuses and reasons as to why people didn't want to stick by josette, a list longer than one side of paper, but the other had put in an effort with her when she was vulnerable and oh, so desperately needed it.

the effort to maintain a stoic countenance only magnified the ache of loss, manifesting in the faintest twitch of a clenched muscle, a subtle betrayal of their restraint. “this is supposed to be my table,” they said curtly, their nod a precise, measured concession to civility. appearance, after all, was paramount—it always had been. to falter here, in public, would be an unforgivable misstep. in their mind’s eye, a far less restrained scene unfolded: a withering tirade unleashed upon the ivy’s proprietors for their misstep in allowing such an encounter. but luxury demanded the sheen of decorum, and abraxis knew all too well how to wield politeness like a weapon. without further protest, they slid into the chair opposite josette, the motion deliberate, their gaze coolly appraising. “no need to apologize on the restaurant’s behalf,” they remarked, the words smooth yet razor-edged. a faint, brittle smile curved their lips as they added, with a forced agreeability, “it appears fate wishes for us to dine together.” they weren't one to tempt fate.

"oh-" the woman widened her eyes at the confirmation that she was sat at someone else's table. "i hadn't made a reservation. i think the hostess probably thought that i'd be done and out by now but it's not worked out that way." a lot of things didn't 'work out', josette knew that better than anyone. her job, her relationship, her friendships, her daughter - everything was a massive failure on her part and she wasn't sure how she could lose much more. most of it was her fault but she had been lead down a certain path that had lead to her life being destroyed and it hadn't stopped with the end of her toxic and abusive relationship. what had been the point of leaving him if everything had got so much worse? that was a question she'd asked herself more than enough times but she was never going to admit that she'd thought about it once. josette had made it out of anchorage for a prestigious title on quite the salary several years ago but after her confidence faltered and issues with her health began to arrive, his first port of call was persuading her to come home; josette leighton could have escaped all of it if she hadn't come back.

Ambling uncertainly through the threshold of the restaurant, Lana shifted from foot to foot as she took in her surroundings, wondering for the third time that night why she'd chosen to don a pair of strappy heels for a simple night out with herself. Far more accustomed to the comfort of a pair of boots and a gauzy maxi skirt (rather than the tight plum-colored pencil skirt that she'd apparently selected in a bout of utter overconfidence over the potential prospects of her evening), the brunette was still looking forward to a night of decadent food and wine, even if it ended in going home alone. She was normally the one running around a kitchen in a sweaty haste, so an evening of being waited on was exactly what she needed to recharge. Besides, it would make the perfect case study in what kind of food the other local eateries had to offer. Even though her academic days were long behind her, Lana would always be a perpetually curious girl, eager to learn anything and everything about the things that interested her.

with how busy the restaurant was becoming, josette was now thinking that she should have booked a quieter evening - perhaps a monday when people were less likely to be out. the background noise was becoming overwhelming but she told herself she was enjoying some lovely wine, that she would have a proper meal, far better than anything she could cook and then she would return back home for some much needed sleep. if it were up to josette, she would keep going after that but only with someone else. "yes, i was thinking i should have booked a monday or tuesday night but that's the advantage of hindsight." josette claimed to be a lot of things but psychic wasn't one of them.

the ivy. french cuisine. meeting josette after a lengthy time ( she wasn’t counting how long but it had been a while ), heejin didn’t know what to anticipate from her friend. she’d convinced herself to keep a distance from josette. it wasn’t because her intentions were evil per se, but because some of her family members suffered, for lack of a better word; she was trying to be the aunt now that she was trying to get more involved. for herself and her late sister. as it is known, heejin’s not all too expressive or affectionate; she is reserved and prefers to isolate herself, so this outing was a step she had to force herself to take.

josette had put heejin through a lot, particularly in the time after willow had died and her friend had taken such good care of her, dealt with her depressive episodes until jo was too far gone to appreciate the help. the other woman had made sure she'd paid her bills and yet josette still headed for disaster. after some words were exchanged, she'd finally made an effort and was determined to get her life back on track. josette was an intelligent individual - at one point she had held a head of department title at a mental health facility just out of town but shed had her doubts about her ability and matthew hadn't helped that; he'd wanted her back in anchorage with him.

Salem had made herself a comfortable living as the prima ballerina on New York City's dime, but she was promised she would worry for nothing at all when her godparent had learned of her father's passing. Luxurious, finer things had never greatly interested her — lavish afterparties celebrating opening nights and fancy hotels and invaluable stem glasses for wines were all a bit of a bore, if you asked her forthright opinion — however, when the pair had gone out for dinner ( rather, trio, Briar picking up mac and cheese noodles with her grubby, thick fingers, ) she was enamored with the casual atmosphere for the fine dining establishment.

josette turned to the side to grab her scarf, gloves and coat to move and leave for the other to have her table. her facial expressions were soft, nodding in agreement that she was the one that was ut of place - she was always out of place. still, the woman wouldn't obsess over it too much, not when she was trying to have a healthier mindset this year in order to save herself from being that black hole that no one wanted to love. she shuffled towards the end of the table before the other's words cause her eyes to widen and facial muscles to tense.

Dani had been keeping himself in town more often. The ranch and its sensation of secondary-home faded through the sensationalist news spreading into town. Never bothering with things such as reservations, the silhouette of his person often enough to have him seated, the question surprised him. He glanced around as he was addressed, though he believed he recognised her. It wasn't until the tender chuckle greeted his ears that he set his own drink down; he opted for one of those virgin coolers, since he had to return to Prancer's afterwards. "Jo, it's been a while." This was also Dani's fault. He kept to himself, seated upon the porch, nothing else left to say. "Yeah, yeah, there's lots of staff problems this time of year." Speaking out of experience, because no one in his kitchen wanted to work either.

"dani." josette exhaled and let a gentle smile grace her small features. the woman was trying the best she could to keep her composure this year, to not only move on with her life but also feel more secure in her own person. her fleeting sense of self had made her susceptible to matthew's manipulative ways to begin with and it had led to a vicious cycle that spanned over twenty years; it eventually ended in absolute disaster for all involved, including willow, his child that she'd purposefully kept from him. josette never had chance to be a mother, it was something she'd wanted greatly but matthew would never marry her, would shut her down at the mere mention and that should have been an indicator that their entire relationship was never going to go anywhere. josette had been the other woman, had been in a relationship with the man and she was convinced that they would be a family.