a made up brave

status:   open @roswellstarters​ location:  21 + tent  / anywhere!

         “  halloween is literally the sexiest holiday.  it’s the one day of the year i actually want to objectify people.  ”     the admission is spoken to whoever is closest,  a cocktail in her hand -  the fourth of the night  -   that’s two sips away from needing to be replaced. adiya is holding it together for now at least,  for the only thing giving away her intoxication is the swaying of her limbs.      “  metaphorically,  obviously,  because,  you know,  objectification is  never  okay,  ”     pause,    “  but  if i see one more dude wearing a purge mask in a compression tee shirt i might need resuscitated.  ”   it’s then that her fingers drum on a fold up table,  bottom lip caught between her teeth.     “  alright,  i’m boozed up,   you ready to get scared titless tonight ?  ”

"I don’t know, there’s something about a Mrs. Claus costume that just–” she’s kidding, of course, and Kaya makes it clear with the theatrical shudder she lets dash down her spine, hands clasping over where her heart jackrabbits in her chest. While Adiya’s one of the many enhancing the festivities with a cocktail induced wobble or two, Kaya’s indulgence is of a different kind. While the thin sheen of sweat glinting in the colourful lights might not be enough to give it away, the telltale grind of teeth might be enough to suggest what she’s taken. The rest of the molly she’s bought– two, to be exact –rest in a baggy in her right sock. It’s a little uncomfortable, but it’s a spot that’s safe enough.

“...Yes. Yeah. Yup. Where’re we goin’ first?”

"Alright, so according to this, Pizza Planet should be on the other side of the witchy maze thing.” Kaya brandishes the flimsy map handed out to guests at the event’s main entrance. It isn’t the clearest, prioritising aesthetic over practicality, but the area itself is compact enough to navigate without getting completely lost. She turns to her housemate– the other lost to their usual antics involving the self-proclaimed “ Roswell’s very own Jackass. “

“How about it? We could go through the maze and then you can treat me to some pizza.”

mattie rolls her eyes, leaning over to give her friend a playful shove, “shut-up” she mutters, feeling awkward. she sighs, of course kaya was right, mattie needed to pluck up the courage and ask him herself, “i know, i knoooow” she sighs, her cheeks flushed pink a little from the embarrassment she was feeling. “ugh fine, i’ll gather my intel from someone else” she pauses for a moment, “but if you’ve got any advice on how i could ACTUALLY talk to him, that’d be great. ‘cause i feel so fuckin’ awkward about mentioning it all”. 

While she doesn’t dodge the shove, Kaya doesn’t entirely react to it, aside from the irritated blanket expression rendering her features impervious to any other mood. She can’t tell if Mattie’s stubborn, dumb or stubbornly dumb. Either way, it’s starting to really piss her off. “Hey– hey, Mattie?”

Kaya sits up, legs criss-crossed as the sudden flip bounces the mattress and closes the distance between them. She leans in, her gaze as steady as is it cold, and cocks her head. “I don’t. Give. A shit. Honestly? I think this is all pretty pathetic– what? Did you invite me over just to talk about my brother? ‘Cause if that’s what you’re doing, it’s pretty fucking sad. And self involved. I’m not some dumb little accessory to yours and Connor’s stupid fucking drama. Which is pretty boring anyway, if you ask me.” It’s harsh, Kaya knows, but she’s never been known to break things down gently.

It’s not the fact Kaya’s high. Hell, all the Braxton siblings have a tendency to indulge, and Malik would be a hypocrite to pretend he doesn’t enjoy lighting up every now and again, especially not when a good sativa high can be a primary source of inspiration. No, it’s the fact that she’s managed it with a total disregard for anyone else in the fucking house— not that that should come as a surprise.

All boiled down, it isn’t quite anger Malik feels; it’s envy. Marijuana aside, their siblings both have their fair share of vices, one of which is undoubtedly selfishness, total disregard for anyone but themsleves. It’s a luxury Malik’s never truly been able to indulge in, not when he’s too busy picking up the pieces their siblings leave behind in their collective paths of destruction, whether imploding or exploding.

He’s about to give them both some credit. At least they’ve showed up, even shuffled along after Malik to lend helping hands. In fact, Malik is about to, even if only with a meager thanks. That is before Kaya opens her mouth and Malik feels their own tighten around a locked jaw.

“Jesus, Kaya,” he’s quick to spit out before a sigh slips from his mouth. The three of them are having dinner with their mothers, not picking up trash on the side of the road as some kind of correctional community service sentence. “Leave if you want.” Malik rolls their shoulders, nonchalant despite the pointed, stinging sharpness in their tone. “If you’re gonna have a shitty attitude anyway…”

( @scggy )

there’s a wine bottle sitting on the kitchen counter, whether it was merely there for decoration didn’t concern him as it prompted the idea to win    FAVORITE CHILD AWARD  -    if he can get it open  -  reaching to grab two wine glasses from an upper cabinet.   he would have responded on the same wavelength as kaya,  including a joke about how sticking his hand in the oven may feel  less painful  but with malik’s quick retort,  he almost opts for silence instead of agreement.   

he loves his moms.  he shoots an  I LOVE YOU  text to the two of them every night (although that’s something he isn’t quick to admit )   but that doesn’t make sitting at the dinner table he was raised at any less cumbersome.  

     “   don’t leave.  ”    a plead  even before kaya had the opportunity to respond on her own, one presented out of pure selfishness,  for multiple reasons.  soggy having dinner with just their moms and   seemingly overachiever   older sibling would ultimately lead into the two praising whatever malik’s latest success was while offering connor the pitiful,  so.. how has work been for you  afterward.  he can only imagine the grappling he’d have to do to make selling records to teens who just learned about vinyls sound important for the second year in a row.       “  it won’t be that bad, right ?   it’s just dinner,  we’ve all had dinner before.  ”    it was true but incredibly inconsistent to the muttering he was doing to himself at work earlier about the event.  besides the  dinner before  was  before he found himself slinging glass across his bedroom in rage when he was younger;  it’s the elephant in the room.   

with a hand now on the wine bottle he’s been struggling to twist open,  he lets out a huff before inching it away,   “  here,  can someone -  ”

Connor’s– Soggy’s, stupid fucking nickname –struggle doesn’t go unnoticed. His twitchy scuffle with the stubborn cork keeps tempting her mouth into a smirk, and she barely manages to keep it suppressed under Malik’s frustrated surveillance. She shoots the eldest Braxton a sharp little glance before her gaze floats back to enjoy the middle’s fruitless grappling. Part of her, that cruel, derisive little chunk of her psyche that’s yet to be expunged completely, almost wonders if Connor will snap again, if his temper will flare and that white knuckled grip trying to twist the cork out will upturn the entire bottle instead, just to launch it at the wall and drench the room in a smattering of glass and rouge.

When Connor turns to the others for help, Kaya stays on her perch. There’s only so much tethering her to her brother these days, most of which consisting of that unspoken obligation to love and support one’s family unconditionally. Even that is dwindling, grains of sand marking the seconds that amount to complete and utter resentment. It keeps building.

“You’re holding it wrong,” is her sole contribution. She jerks her chin at the angle at which Connor’s holding the opener. Any more twisting and he’ll rip the cork in two, making it all the more challenging to unstick the half still wedged in the bottleneck. Not that Kaya will explain any of that: Connor ought to learn to clean up after his own messes, after all. ( @likemalik​​ )

Massoud watched her with interest, dark eyes waiting for her moment to snap, to run off, to beg for him to let her go her way. He shrugged at the comment, as if that was something he obviously never did, though it described him to a T and he’d never thought much about it before. Either he really was a scorpio, or she was just saying things about them that she had seen. They liked to test people, it was the only way to be sure of their trustworthiness. “And you’d say I fit the bill?” They asked.

What would have been a slow exhale shoots out of her nose in a petulant huff. Kaya runs the tip of her tongue along her gums. There’s no tingle, no telltale signs of inebriety, of course. Slim fingers clutch at the baggy in her pocket. “Walk and talk,” Kaya murmurs. Her shoulder bumps Massoud’s on her way past, and she barely shoots them a glance to see if he’ll follow as she ducks into a far more secluded spot. 

flame would burn the regular roswell inhabitant , and yet sparrow was immune to the heat ; they had been slowly desensitised , from their father’s abandonment and their mother’s sickness to a brief yet lucrative life of crime . no longer did the embers lick their flesh ; they were scarred beyond sensation . as much as happiness seemed like a dream , a euphoria , sparrow had long come to terms with such a life being out of reach — it was for other people , it was for those that still believed hope was real as opposed to straight myth . “ you’ve got the floor . scout’s honour . won’t say a word ‘til you give me the go ahead , “ 

and they kept their vow as they took back the joint , tapping the tower of ash into an avalanche . “ now that’s more like it . god of wine by third eye blind , lithium by nirvana .. “ the first two were easy , and then set in the pressure . a hesitation plagued their answers , before ultimately deciding : “ sabotage by beastie boys . “ it was a snippet of their weekly radio stint , their aptly named ‘ sounds like teen spirit ‘ . “ — and you ?? to forewarn you , i absolutely will judge you . viciously . “ 

They couldn’t be more different, yet whatever it was about the lemon-bitter sting of parental neglect bridged the canyons cutting between them, giving the pair a wobbly path to meet somewhere halfway. Somewhere liminal: Kaya would have never imagined herself watching the seconds burn down to the rolled up ‘filter’ sitting in Sparrow’s hold, the burning blunt marking time’s idle drifting in rivulets of tangy smoke.

the ass-sucking manifestations are appreciated , even in the event that kaya’s sentiments are laced heavy in sarcasm . emmett supposes he could do with all the help he can get , no matter astrological preference , or whatever one was into when it came to ‘ sucking ‘ . for the record , he’ll remind kaya later , he’s not into that . emmett hates to admit , but he’s going to take the rest of her suggestions to heart when it comes to his dating profile . mental note made to research further into the depths of love and astrological signs . ❝ i’m not a crybaby !! ❞  the protest not helping his case  , exactly what someone who was a cry baby would say . ❝ i can’t even remember the last time i shed a tear , so maybe those sign things are faulty . how do you figure the month you were born determines if you’re gonna be moody , or a loner , or whatever , anyway ?? ❞ 

Kaya’s quick to roll onto her front, curls flying in a near-perfect arc before they land sprawled across lean shoulders and her upper back. The gesture alone says what her smirking mouth does not: Emmett’s only digging himself a deeper hole. Typical Pisces, she thinks, delighted and amused. Kaya shrugs, “guess it just depends on, like, if you actually believe this kinda stuff. It’s more about where the stars were when you popped out, y’know? Constellations. I mean, I just think it’s fun.” She takes to fiddling with the sleeves of her lilac hoodie, yellow lettering reminiscent of a marshmallow’s bounce and squishiness where it reads LEMONADE.  “Like, there’s stuff that when you read up on it, it hits different. You’re checking out your chart and it’s like, ‘oh my god, that’s so me’. But if you’re really gonna base your entire thing around it... Red flag, bestie. Go touch some grass.”

Massoud laughed, shook their head and bit the inside of their mouth. “Alright, fair, guess I am, not certain about my other Scorpio friends. That’s all you’re going to give me, then?” they asked, they put the money in their inside pocket, hard to get to if you didn’t know how to open it. They could see the itch under her skin, watched it worked around, the fix was already in her pocket, but she’d put herself in this spot to begin with, rambling when she could’ve just cleared off. And Massoud was a mean little fucker, so he was milking it.

in an alternate reality , sparrow hoped they were happy . perhaps somewhere on another timeline their mother would be well , their siblings would all love each other , and they wouldn’t exist as splintered constellations across the galaxy ; scattered stars across a bleak sky . the youngest moore couldn’t blame their siblings for distancing themselves as much as they had . who would willingly get involved with somebody who had abandoned their family , who had chosen love — or the illusion of love — over familial ties ?? what tash and sparrow had was buried deep in the dirt . the one thing that a human should have been able to rely on , the community of faces that shared their own features and genetic makeup , had been spurned by the very person that needed it most . god , were they feeling that self-inflicting loneliness now .

at kaya’s request , sparrow surrendered the joint and began gnawing at the tips of their shredded black nails . their brain searched for something — anything — that wasn’t how miserable they were , that wasn’t the fact that they were slowly watching their family die ( both physically and figuratively ) . “ i chose the last topic , and it crashed and burned , “ they responded , flicking a shred of polish onto the ground at their feet , “ so as long as you don’t start talking about politics , you’ve got the microphone . “

"Well, I had it before, and you shat all over it.” The words chase after the thick smoke licking the air from the corners of Kaya’s mouth, released alongside a content sigh. There’s no ill-will here, but the easy prod of understanding between two people better known for being scathing. People simply ought to be careful around open flame.

“i’m a scorpio.” 

the reply came out all too easy, words falling into a giggle as astra cast kaya a sidelong glance. being at sky above is always anyone’s guessing game when it comes to the topic of conversation, and as astra stands on a stepladder and arranges the decoration above the register, she can’t help but get sucked in. “halloween baby, remember? something that my mom always said was too on brand when it came to my family, and i always liked hearing her recant the day i was born to anyone who walked in. that woman was a force to be reckoned with.”

the brunette paused, hands on her hips as she flashed kaya a quick smile. “and she was a leo.”

@kayahq·

Kaya clicks her fingers. “Right! Right.”

Truthfully, Astra is, above all, her boss. And as a humble employee, Kaya is but fulfilling the stereotype of her generation and setting copious boundaries between her personal life and her place of employment: As soon as Astra reminds her of her Halloween Baby badge, Kaya promptly forgets. She can practically feel her brain squeezing the information right out the other ear, even as she’s nodding.

“Damn, a Leo for a mom. I’m... so sorry,” she snorts. Long, slender fingers fiddle with a crystal plucked from the bowl by the cash register. Kaya shoots her boss a cheeky smirk, “what’re the mommy issues like?”

There’s a lecture on the tip of Malik’s tongue. It’s one Connor’s been on the receiving end of too many times, and Malik is fairly sure he’d be able to communicate it with only a look. It’s one that very clearly says: stop throwing your sister under the bus. It’s all they can manage to communicate before they’re interrupted by the creak of the front door.

Usually in this context Kaya’s presence would be a relief, but as she continues speaking, Malik’s eyes continue narrowing. It isn’t a surprise, really, but she’s high. While she may be meticulous about keeping the pungent, sour smell of bud away, the slow drag of her words and the slight dilation of her pupils is enough to indicate, to Malik at least, she’s swallowed down some kind of depressant.

What they don’t understand is how Kaya thinks she’s getting it passed their moms. Lori’s a nurse for God’s sake… And while she does flash a knowing glance Malik’s way, neither of them say anything. It’s become commonplace in this house, even more so given the siblings’ age. They were all adults now, older, wiser, and perfectly capable of addressing an issue and confessing truths when the situation calls for it. It’s one of the few things Malik tends to disagree with their parents about.

“Right,” Malik says succinctly, deciding not to dwell much more than that.

Then they’re on their feet.  “Well, think we just gotta heat the food up a lil’ bit. I’ll pop it in the oven. You guys want anything to drink?”       ( @scggy· )

        jealousy settles in at the idea of kaya coming to dinner stoned when soggy was far too nervous to take a hit in his car beforehand.  it’s nuzzling between furrowed brows but the feeling isn’t enough to wipe away his pure amusement at the fact. after his eyes scan the room in attempt to read if anyone else had picked up on her intoxication,  his face positions into one that says   do you have more    without, hopefully, making it obvious to his mothers.   ( or malik, for that matter.  )   who was undoubtedly the golden child,   a fact that connor would be covetous about if he wasn’t equally aware that, with all the stress he put on the family,  their moms needed a personality like malik’s.  

           and it showed.  especially when they hop out of their seat to set up dinner properly while soggy had been trying to telepathically ask kaya where she got the bud from.     “  i’m good with just water. ”    is his first response, though quickly followed by   “  actually, let me help.  ”      while he’s certain they were capable of handling re-heating the food on their own,  it beats any small talk that could come up, and hopefully forgives the fact that he was late.

     it was peculiar to think there was a time where the five of them could enjoy dinner like a real family and less like strangers.  when the laughs outweighed the bickering, they were younger then. naivety was prominent.  he scoots his chair back,  the sound scraping against their floors as he stands on his feet.    “  water,  kay ?  ”      because,  you know,  cottonmouth.

There’s always been mischief shared between the youngest Braxtons. Oftentimes Malik’s been the hand to force them apart by the shells of their ears, both squirming and griping as they continued reaching for each other. There’s a table between them now, and Kaya takes full advantage of the obstacle and the lightning-quick glance the firstborn shares with their moms. She shoves both middle fingers in Soggy’s direction, a shooting star gesture caught only by the tail end when the rest of the family turn back to the scene, just as Kaya’s lowering her hands into her lap. Her smirk remains, though, and it widens as the softest of snorts jumps from her nose. Habitual as her derision towards her brother might be, this time she’s nothing but playful, her edges softened by the haze inducing high.

It’s not so playful when she rolls her eyes. Malik and Connor teaming up means that she needs to compensate, too. Her limbs feel heavy when she drags herself out of her chair. The legs clatter and scrape against the floor, and Kaya has to catch it by the backrest before it topples over completely. “Whoops– yeah. Hold on, I’ll... ‘M c’ming.”

In the kitchen, Kaya finds her usual place at the counter. She practically dumps her upper half onto it, elbows knocking a little on the hard side while her fingers thread. Thin bands of corroding metal standing in for silver and gold clink together quietly.  “So... Scale of one to ten, how shitty’s this thing gonna be, huh?”   ( @likemalik​ )

being a moore was as though they lived among the vermin , the very same roaches and rats that scampered from trash heap to trash heap for a morsel of the good stuff . every town had a bottom of the pile and , god , were the siblings exactly that — there was a part of sparrow’s chest that ached at the thought that a family could be happy ( at least exist beneath a halfway-convincing facade ) . such a lie didn’t exist , for the misdirection would have been so glaringly obvious that those who experienced it would have been blinded . 

the only unity their siblings found was upon that dotted line of their mother’s will , being scrutinised by sparrow and their oldest sister . once their mother bit the dust — an inevitability as the sands of time rapidly rushed through tapered glass — there would be nothing real , nothing tangible , keeping the threads of the family tree together . sure , on paper they were cursed with a shared surname , but that meant nothing once the last shackle perished . 

another puff whistled through their flared nostrils . “ yeah . it’s shit . i mean , what dad would do all that for a kid ?? mine couldn’t get far enough a-fuckin’-way from all of us . he wouldn’t cross a puddle , let alone an ocean , “ 

She supposes that she’s at an advantage: Kaya never had to worry about an absent father because there never was a father to begin with. But her mothers sure as hell made up for that. Connor this, Connor that; even when she injured herself, when she had to quit the one thing keeping her afloat during the shitstorm her brother caused under the Braxton roof, her moms were barely present. There’d been a lot to deal with, Kaya knows, but it had been painful for everyone involved. At least she’d had Malik ( it doesn’t occur to her to wonder who they had ), but Kaya feels as though she might be losing him, too.

“Puff-puff-pass, remember?”

She swipes the joint before Sparrow can so much as complain, and welcomes it with hollow cheeks and a firm suck at the little card filter. Flecks of oregano-shaped weed and stringy tobacco rush into her lungs, along with a high; some cling to the tip of her nose. She’s used to the gritty sensation.

“the only branding i’m a fan of is my sponsorships. you know - the ones that give me money.” ashley retorted, though his smile did falter just a little as a realization hit him. it probably wouldn’t be too much longer before those sponsors decided to drop him, seeing as the recovery for his leg injury wasn’t moving along quite as quickly as he’d hoped. but he wasn’t about to give up. …not yet, at least. he’d worked way too damn hard to get this far. 

“hey, it’s more impressive than you’d think, considering the state this thing was in a couple months ago.” showing kaya what he was referring to, ashley nodded down towards his leg, before lifting the cane that had been resting under his elbow and gently tapping her leg with it. “but lucky for you, i’m always down for shots. get enough of ‘em in me, and there’s a good chance i’ll even change my mind about the whole collar thing.” 

An assessing gaze rakes up and down the other: He’s too wiry for football, and he’s a little too over-dramatic for the basketball and tennis courts. Those shoulders of his aren’t a swimmer’s, and the mention of sponsorships prompts one conclusion, and one conclusion only. 

Kaya’s never really kept up with soccer. There was nothing specially risky about it– at least, not in her not-so-humble opinion. Which means that the injury presented only spurs her on to assume that this guy is pathetically whiny. Lucky for him, Kaya has a thing for pathetically whiny dudes.

Her eyes drop down to glance at the cane lightly thudding her leg; she brushes her tongue over her bottom lip. It leaves a shine in the low light, streams of colourful spotlights pointing this way and that to cast lilac and electric blue over the grinding, dancing bodies.

jay: beer? night of your favorite movies? they're the only bargaining chips i have.

jay: emotional damage? the dramatics are strong with this one.

jay: can i talk you round with pizza and weed?

jay: someone finally dropped in that shirt you keep raving about. you still want it or am i getting rich off this piece of history? 👕

jay: i can see the dollar signs now.

kaya: if u sell it u owe me like,, more than half of the profits