k ♡

Amelia was relieved by Dy’s reaction, even if she’d managed to spoil the surprise. She listened as they spoke, a wide eyed grin forming at the description of the pet rock’s energy. She didn’t know enough about Percy Shelley to really contribute, but she liked hearing their insight. “1817 Shelley it is,” she said with a laugh, and an exaggerated nod. Still, her face lit up all the more at their reassurance that they were taking the gift seriously. “I’m glad! I almost bought you a fish, but I figured this seemed more appropriate,” she said with a shrug. “Animals shouldn’t be forced on people, I know that. Maybe a selfish part of me thought that I could babysit it. Though, that offer does still stand for Shelley. If he needs company if you head out again and can’t take him with. Me and Maude are good company, he’ll get lots of love.” 

.

“Oh, I’d murder a fish for sure and I’d spend all my money replacing it and hoping you won’t notice. The guilt would eat me alive, Sam would get pissed because our plumbing would get all fucked up with fish carcasses, and eventually I’d come clean to you that Franklin - I’d probably name them Franklin - was actually Franklin the sixth. You’d forgive me, we’d be fine, but I’d have to live with being a fish killer and you’d never buy me anything organic again.” They shook their head with a sigh. “A rock is much better. Might also help me to remember to give a heads up whenever I bounce for a bit.”

It sent an extra twist in her stomach to realize it was Kennedy Landry of all people to find her. At the risk of sounding like a total creep (or else a perv), she’d spent many a sleepless thinking about them - where they were, how they got there, what they were doing… It had become a bit of an obsession if she was honest, and now that they were back, she was left with just piles of useless information. 

“You didn’t strike me as a conspiracy theorist,” she said, trash forgotten, unable to keep the thought to herself, her tenses mixed up in a way that would give her away on the off chance had their family not already told them about ‘that strange Winter girl’ lurking about. “I mean, I’ve scrolled through those Reddit forums. They’re terrifying.” 

.

Dy’s snorted and gave shrug. “That’s fair. I mean, you have to dig through a lot of Jews are evil to find anything not... Like that. It’s better to not do any research at all and come up with your own conspiracies that you just consider fact. Less likely to be offensive.” They tossed the paper bag into the regrettably empty recycling bin. “In defense of my coworkers, and by extension myself, a lot of our stuff can’t be recycled. Bio hazards and covered in ink.” Their eyes went to the piece of trash in her hand. “I’d check that for blood.”

“It’s basically a fine line between: is it worth it to just pay someone the extra money to cook for me? Or do I feel like a better person if I cook for myself? I don’t know if that was really the question that was asked in all those Kant and Aristotle ethics works, but I think it sounds promising.” Oliver found it to be a bit bold to order the drink right then and there; it wasn’t like he was the most trustworthy person to take any type of recommendations from. In all honesty, Oliver just said things to make conversation, not because he really believed in it. It must have been the doctor in him; he had a lot of thoughts on how to properly cleanse your face, but not on non-alcoholic ciders. “To be honest with you, it might taste like shit. It really might, but listen, I think it’s all about the fact that someone is serving you a drink. Might cost a little more than juice from your fridge, but it’s worth it.”

.

Dy’s eyebrows twitched slightly at the casual Kant and Aristole references, and maybe in the back of their mind they knew it was just pleasant teasing, but they found themselves hyper focused on that point before they could stop it. “The root of the problem is obviously capitalism and not us,” they replied. “Do we really feel like a better person when we cook for ourselves? Or are we brainwashed into thinking work makes us valuable to society? In the same vein, does it taste better when we pay other people to do it because we’re good people for supporting hard workers, or is it because we have the money to flaunt.” They tapped the side of their nose before they pointed towards the man like they knew the answer. “Trick questions. Kant and Aristotle were hacks.”

Their fingers drummed against the bar and they flashed a quick grin before they nodded along. “Yeah, yeah. Rounding back to my bullshit, does anything actually taste bad? Or is just the bitter disappointment that capitalism brings because we spent our money on things we didn’t immediately cream our pants over?” The bartender pushed the nonalcoholic cider towards them, which they brought to their lips before the philosophy could settle. They nodded as they swallowed. “Yep, tastes like fermented capitalism.”

Amelia let out a soft laugh, a small pause forming between the siblings. One that Amelia didn’t exactly mind as she took in the stone a little longer, shifting it between her fingers. The mention of their mom pulled her eyes back to Dy. “It’s perfect. Mom would approve, even if it’s a little late. If it makes you feel better, I panicked and made everyone pet rocks,” she explained, with a grin. After a beat, she gasped, and stood up. “Stay there,” she said, before she slipped back into her apartment to find the box for Dy, taking longer than she probably should have to remember where she’d stored it. She came back, and handed it to them, taking her place once more. “I didn’t spoil the surprise, okay? You’re surprised by this,” she instructed, half joking. “It’s name is Shelley. You can do whatever you want with it.” 

.

Dy raised their eyebrows almost expectantly, and their lips pulled up into a half grin when Amelia registered she could get the belated Christmas present. They gave a wave as she retreated, leaning back on the grassy area out front while they waited. They opened one eye when her shadow fell over them, their eyebrows furrowing to formulate their expression into something serious. “I am so surprised,” they deadpanned, pushing themselves back up. They took the pet rock from Amelia and let out a small laugh as they turned it over in their hands, nodding as they took in the gift. “Well, this is obviously a descendant of Percy Shelley, and very aptly named. I mean, the energy radiating off of this... stunning creature feels 1814?” They paused. “No, 1817 Shelley, for sure.” They brought their eyes back to Amelia. “I love him. And he’s definitely the only pet I’m responsible enough to take care of, so if you think I’m not going to take this seriously as hell, you are incorrect.”

At the response, Oliver glanced at the voice next to him, a bit of tilted head as he tried to interpret the reason that someone would be sitting at a bar. To not have a drink. Instead of passing judgement, he simply nodded, accepting that people were different than he was. “I would have to agree that it’s probably not the healthiest option, you know,” Oliver took the last sip of his own drink, pushing the empty glass towards the end of the bar and looking back. “I would also like to acknowledge a fascinating point that you’ve made that restaurant food tastes sensationally better than a home cooked meal. And that’s not an argument, that’s a fact.” A bit of a dry laugh left his lips, as his smile stayed turned up on his face. “Now, I’m going to say that if alcohol isn’t your thing, they have a really good non-alcoholic cider here. Maybe it’ll pair well with your bites.”

.

They pointed a finger at the man, their lips drawing a line as they shook their hand, as if they were at a loss of words that someone agreed with them. “Thank you. I cook because it’s cheap and I have to, but if I had a choice? Paying someone else to microwave things for me is infinitely better every time. They could put a hot pocket on the menu and I’d say it was better than what I eat at home.” They hummed at the recommendation, their eyes flicking across the other patrons. With a shrug, they ordered the cider without more consideration. “Guess it’ll be good to blend in with the masses. Keeps people from getting suspicious. Can’t have that, as I am a very suspicious person.”

“It’s fine. I’m too jumpy sometimes,” she said with a laugh, trying to break the tension. The family had their own dynamics with each other, and Dy always seemed to embrace their ownness, which maybe Amelia always admired a bit. Still, Dy always seemed to understand her better than their older siblings, and any small piece either of them brought back from a hike was always exciting to Amelia. But, they weren’t usually crystals or geodes, this was more exciting. She listened as they spoke, and looked up to meet their expression in response to the idea of looking it up. She pursed her own lips in thought, looking it over again, trying to think over the meaning this one held. “It’s rough, so definitely some personality,” she said, running her fingers over the sharp edges. “Maybe some calming energy, but I think this one in particular is protective. All those sharp edges fighting off all the bad stuff. Or, I can use it as a weapon myself if I ever need to.“ She gripped it, and swung her arm through the air pretending to hit someone with it. “Magical and practical.” 

.

Dy fidgeted with the drawstrings of their hoodie while Amelia looked over the rock, nodding along with the final assessment. “See, I thought you’d think of a better explanation, anyway. That’s totally why I was unprepared for this conversation.” They snorted and scuffed their shoe against the ground, a level of awkwardness making them feel unnaturally stiff. “Just reminded me of something Mom would get you, so...” They trailed off and shook their head. “And I totally planned on giving it to you for Christmas, but the brain noises made me forget what day it was, as we all learned. Post Christmas apology tour has commenced.”

—Open Starter @crescentstarters​ Location: any street or alley where garbage cans or dumpsters are Phoebe is investigating by going through a subject’s garbage. She may be mistaken about whose garbage it is. She is definitely caught. 

It wasn’t a good look, clad in the grubby sweats she always wore for this kind of work and waist deep in garbage.  She only had a split second to spare for embarrassment, however, before she was quick on her feet with an excuse - though its effectiveness had yet to be determined. “Can you believe this asshole? Plastic in the garbage!” she exclaimed with a huff of indignation, holding up a disposable water bottle for emphasis. “It’s like, there is no planet B, am I right?” 

.

Dy wasn’t one to people watch -- not strangers, anyway -- but it was sort of difficult to not notice the woman digging through the trash in the back of the tattoo parlor. A flicker of concern crossed their face at first, instinctively patting their pockets for money they knew wasn’t there in case she needed something a little less secondhand for lunch, but she explained it away before they could further their embarrassment. Their eyebrows raised slightly in amusement before their eyes drifted to the scattered garbage.

“That’s debatable,” they replied slowly. “Dunno how well versed you are in government conspiracies about withholding information about space exploration, but if you’re really concerned, I could break it down for you.” They reached down to pick up a crumpled paper bag from one of their coworker’s lunch. “Paper, too,” they grumbled. “Nah, never mind, I’m on your side.”

location: hop notch brewery

@crescentstarters​

After the long week, Oliver had decided to treat his staff to a happy hour of sorts at one of the local breweries. It was more of a holiday gift– one that he knew would be an expensive feat, but he decided to not look at the tab when he closed it. At the counter, he sat his empty glass down and waited for another server. In the meantime, with a bit of alcohol in his system, Oliver couldn’t help but add his opinion to the person next to him at the counter who seemed to be trying to decide what to order. “Not a fan of the IPA. I dated a guy who was an IPA fan,” Oliver took a larger sip of out of his glass, raising his eyes as he did so. “Obviously he couldn’t change my mind. I’d recommend the fruited sour, if you want my opinion.”

.

Dy drummed their fingers on the bar, their leg bouncing hard as the noise from everyone else faded into nothing around them. Their eyes flicked over the menu uselessly -- they knew what they were going to get, and it was the same thing every time -- and it took a moment for them to realize someone was speaking to them. They raised their head and switched from tuning everything out to listening, nodding along with the man’s recommendations. “Oh, I don’t drink,” they replied off handedly, their finger tapping over the limited food portion that the brewery offered. “They have these pretzel bites and spinach dip which is... Just a sliced up soft pretzel with microwaved store bought spinach dip, and I know I can just...” They waved their hands as they tried to find the right words to defend themselves against their own criticism. “Do it myself at home. But it’s not the same, you know? It tastes better here.”

Amelia hadn’t necessarily expected anyone to come by, but Maude only gave a single alert boof right before Dy’s voice surprised her. She looked up from her spot on the small balcony with a start, before laughing off her own reaction. “God, you scared me,” but she gestured for them to sit, moving to give them a little extra room. “A present?” she looked over the stone that they held up, a wide grin stretching across her face. “I do! It’s pretty!” she took the stone gently. “This is amazing, thank you! Do you know what amethysts are supposed to mean? I know they’re supposed to mean something right? Like daisies represent like innocence or whatever, right?” 

.

“Sorry,” they apologized off-handedly, looking over at her with a wry smile as they took her invitation to sit. They couldn’t help but give a genuine smile at Amelia’s reaction to the stone, leaning back on their hands as they watched her turn it over. While they wouldn’t consider themselves particularly close with their siblings, they understood Amelia the most. She more or less liked the same things they did, so their conversations were easier. “Uhh,” they replied, their eyes squinting as they thought. “I think it’s supposed to be calming? I had a book of stones back in my apartment, but, y’know. Under lock and key. We could resort to Google, but...” Their eyes went back to her, their lips pursed doubtfully. “What do you think it means? This one specifically. I feel like it’s got a personality.”

Dy stood over Amelia, their hand in their pocket, and pulled a rock to present it. Well, not just a rock. The rock. But she didn’t know that. “I got you a present,” they said softly, what they presumed was her first alert to their presence. They plopped down next to her and held the rock up to the light, the purple fragments gleaming as they reflected off each other. “Natural amethyst. Found it somewhere on the Oregon line, dunno. Thought you’d like it.”

Jacob frowned but listened and nodded his head, he didn’t exactly know how wisdom teeth being illegal related to Dy taking off and joining a cult but he smiled at the sudden burst of energy and Dy being more active on the conversation so he nodded, “Dy… I’m an international finance lawyer, and I mean… you mean wisdom teeth specifically? Cause the only reason I can think of is if they counted as human remains but still, that’d be too much because I mean teeth are teeth so it’d be the same for baby teeth, I’ll look it up, though it may be too late to get them back, they may be destroyed by now if that’s the case.“

.

“I know people who have kept other body parts. This one guy got to keep his amputated foot, but there’s a law that prevents the dentist from giving me my own wisdom teeth after extraction? It doesn’t make sense, Jake. How are they a bio hazard if they came from my head?” Dy shook their head in disdain, their eyes flicking to the window as they shoved a fry into their mouth, speaking around it as they spoke. “That’s why I left. Got sick of laws.”

Jacob nodded satisfied, though he wasn’t exactly confident, he loved his siblings even though he didn’t agree with ther decisions mostnof the time at the end of the day he knew they would end up doing what they always did, their mother was a free spirit and she had raised them as such back then she had been the glue that held them all together and without her it was easy to let themselves drift away, even if eventually they all came back together. He was happy to see their food arrive and he was inspecting his burger but paused at Dy’s comment “I… what?” He asked with a confused frown, “I didn’t know that… is that real? Why would it be illegal?” He asked amused, “And how do you know that?”

.

“See, this is what I’m talking about,” Dy said with a sudden burst of energy, leaning over the table to gesture as they spoke. “You’re a lawyer and you didn’t even know, so why would I know? Right? And seeing how I don’t know, why would I take my teeth and then tell on the dentist who gave them to me? Fuck, Jake, fuck. I still haven’t gotten over it.” They threw up their hands and slouched back in the booth with an exasperated breath. “Short story short, keeping your wisdom teeth is illegal. And after I learned that... I needed a fuckin’ break.”

     Bash let on an exaggerated surpried face expression when Dy confirmed they had left when Bash was already away, then he shrugged a bit. ❛ They all said you were going camping, I didn’t know for how long you had planned to be gone, ❜ he explained, shaking his head a bit and taking a drag of his cigarette with a soft grin on his lips. Several weeks of camping? Didn’t sound awful but then Jake had filed a missing person’s report and shit got serious. ❛ Yeah, that’s when I realized maybe your camping trip wasn’t supposed to be that long. ❜

.

“It wasn’t,” they snorted, taking the cigarette from between their lips to spin it between two fingers. They weren’t much of a smoker even before they left, but the nicotine wasn’t hitting the same since their return. With a shrug, they flicked it into the gutter and looked back at their brother. “Thanks for not making it weird. Always appreciate it. I will... See you around. No camping trips planned any time soon I don’t think.”

With a salute, they walked in the opposite direction of which they came before Bash could land a hit.

“Yeah, yeah – I’m gonna catch you up later, I promise,” Sam huffed in return, looking back at Dy before snorting. “Dy, my friend, you think I don’t know that? But you were fucking outta here for too long. Telling you what kind of creepy bullshit’s happening to me wasn’t on the top of my list,” Sam told them with a roll of his eyes. “So yeah, welcoming you back was kinda more important to me.”

His eyes squinted with intrigue and Sam leaned in a little. “Wanna settle for me?” He asked Dy, resting his chin on his hands as he blinked up at them innocently. “It’d be fun, right? Gonna throw in my name, get us a nice place,” he joked and yet, he wouldn’t exactly be opposed. “I get it – I mean, I don’t but I can imagine.”

Once the portfolio was back with its rightful owner, Sam leaned over the counter a little, watching Dy as they looked it over and he snorted. “Oh, I bet,” he teased with a wink, pursing his lips jokingly before humming in understanding. “I got you,” Sam confirmed, making sure to turn towards the doors himself, a curious expression on his features. “Alright, alright. I’m gonna be on stand by.”

.

“Sam, my friend,” they drawled, the corner of their lips quirking into a slight smile, “you should know that I require no welcome, only spooky stories. I don’t think Leona’s gonna tell me any of them until she figures out where I was. Which will be never because I thrive on mystery. So, ya know. Let’s hang out once I’m employed at this stellar establishment again.”

Sam was weird, but not the sort of weird that Dy was used to being equated to. Sam was the eccentric rich person weird, only slightly more socially acceptable, but bottom of the barrel all the same. The fact that the guy worked at a tattoo shop as a manager when he didn’t have to was all Dy needed to know to make him okay in their book. They weren’t sure if it made him okay enough to live with. “I’ll let you know if my brother starts driving me bananas and we’ll go from there,” they replied with a breathy laugh. “But your name is noted.”

They leaned across the desk to put their hand on Sam’s shoulder, their lips set in a serious line, as though their next mission was the most serious yet. It wasn’t, despite all that was riding on it. “You’re a real one, dude. When we eat the rich, I’m gonna feel bad about you.” They nodded once before they stood up straight again to move towards the back. “Remember my cue.”