lena o'connell

“– What can I get you?” @codstarters​

“I don’t know. I’m feeling adventurous tonight -- how about you make me something you’d make a girl you were looking to impress. -- But if it’s just a beer or a glass of wine... forget about it.” Lena was up for a challenge, and she could use a little more surprise in her life. Why not start with putting the bartender on the spot?

it isn’t the first time that nicola has encountered entitled pricks like the man in front of her right now, that was why it isn’t very much hard for her to know how to deal with this situation, humiliate people like him who very much deserve it for not knowing when and when not to cross the line. right after the man had followed the former and walked away due to the shared looks she and the guards have given him, her attention has been quickly grabbed by a woman who has been watching the commotion this whole time. “put your foot down, show them you’re someone they cannot fuck with.” nicola then eyes one of the other bartenders for another glass. “it takes a few words and a stare, if they’re smart enough.”

The woman’s tactics weren’t all unknown to Lena. She knew how to turn a man down, and she certainly knew how to repel them. But there seemed to be an aura around Nicola, some kind of confidence, that Lena could project, but not internalize, even on her best day. It must’ve taken quite a bit of work to be as self-assured as Nicola seemed to be. Or maybe, just like Lena, the woman was projecting something that she didn’t fully feel, herself. “I’ll try it next time,” she chuckled, taking another sip from her drink. “You’re far more effective than I am. I take it you’ve had to deal with assholes at the bar, before?” Hadn’t they all? “I’m Lena, by the way.”

“D’you have an apple cinnamon shampoo? ‘s a very specific smell- I dunno many people who use that in their hair.” He sniffed again, still smelling it but not able to place it. “This sucks. ‘s definitely making me hungry… hey, you’re not helping by bringing up pumpkin spice. I love that shit.” Val laughed. “Or even a hot chocolate… preferably boozy but I’ll take it however.”

“No, but I have a few that may be close enough. -- Depending on how damaged your sense of smell is. I’m pretty sure the one I’ve been using is a warm brown sugar... or something like that. But you’re right. Not quite what you’re looking for.” She paused, giving the air another sniff, wondering if he was simply smelling things that didn’t exist or if she was smelling something fainter, yet similar, to what he was. “It’s not my fault if your stomach is an empty pit,” she noted, a smirk coming onto her face. “Though if you’d be interested in getting something, I wouldn’t say no to stopping by somewhere real quick. Know of anywhere nearby selling baked goods?”

“i suggest you let the poor girl do her fucking job.” nicola says as she puts down her drink, staring at one of the customers in the eyes, sternness evident in her tone. they have been bothering the poor bartender non-stop, and she could just sense the uneasiness in her features. the club owner just couldn’t tolerate entitled clients like this, especially the ones in her own place. the woman took a long hit of her vape pen and stares at the security detail who are not really that much far away as the watched the commotion went on. she just went down from her office at this of night to enjoy some mojito while she was checking on her dancers herself, it seems like the stranger isn’t away that she’s the owner of the place. “just because she’s being nice to you doesn’t mean she’s interested, now, i would advice for you to either stop disturbing my employee or i’m going to have you dealt with. you choose.” @codstarters​

There was something satisfying about watching another woman put a man in their place. Tonight, Lena had the pleasure of watching as one woman, who turned out to own the place, offer a man a threat that caught him off guard almost immediately. Staying quiet as she finished the interaction, Lena sipped on her vodka soda, trying to hold back a smirk or a chuckle. Once the woman was done, she turned to face the blonde. “He really had no idea who he was messing with, did he?” she asked, relieved that she could finally let off the laugh that she’d been holding in. “I gotta say, even I felt intimidated, and I wasn’t even doing anything wrong. You’ve got to teach me your ways.”

“This is… maybe a weird question, but there’s a really fuckin’ good smell around here and I’m tryin’ to pinpoint it. I can’t see, so I gotta rely on you- it’s… I want to say cinnamon? Maybe apple? Is there some kind of food stand around selling apple turnovers? Is it cologne or perfume? Or am I crazy? Because it smells like Fall, and I really fuckin’ miss Fall anyways. So now I’m craving mulled cider, or a hot toddy, or somethin’.”

@codstarters​

Lena almost had to do a double take. She hadn’t realized he was talking to her until she realized that there wasn’t really anyone else around them. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s my shampoo?” But then she sniffed the air again, pausing to try and place it. “But I smell it too, which means it’s probably not my hair. Is there a bakery around here or something? -- and don’t say that. Because then I’ll want one too, and the last thing anyone needs is another basic bitch ready for pumpkin spice season.”

thomas-miller:

Thomas grinned and held up his hands. “I guess I just have the power of God on my side,” he replied with a laugh before dropping his arms back down. He gave her a questioning look, and nodded slowly. “I mean, that depends on what exactly you’re planning, because there’s this almost sinister look in your eyes so,” he said slowly, the corner of his lip curling into a smirk. 

Dylan had left plenty early enough to be able to meet up with Lena with plenty of time to spare, he simply hadn’t really left quite enough for basically everything to end up going wrong and slowing him down one after another, leaving him to end up coming jogging up to Lena with an apologetic smile after receiving her text.

“Sorry,” He apologized with a soft chuckle, “Didn’t really think to prepare for quite so much bad luck, but I’m here now, so,”

There were days like that, Lena understood. Days when traffic hit just the wrong way, or a heel broke, or any of the millions of other things leading up to a meeting just didn’t go right. She couldn’t blame Dylan for being mad, if that was the case and he wasn’t making any excuses. She’d have to take him at his word for that. “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, you’re here now. That’s the important part. Do you want to talk about your day? Or would you rather just move on -- enjoy the meal?”

“Unfortunately not a freak accident. I’ve always been incredibly clumsy,” Thomas replied with a quiet laugh. It shocked a lot of people to learn that he’d actually only broken a bone once in his life, despite the fact that he was so accident prone. He was strangely proud of that achievement though. He looked down at his phone, waking the screen and giving it a couple of quick taps to make sure it was still functioning as normal before giving her a nod. “Still alive,” he confirmed with a smile. “Oh, no, I’m never running again unless I’m being chased by some killer clown or something,” he said, laughing as he shook his head.

“You poor thing. It’s a miracle you made it this far, isn’t it?” He was easy enough to tease, and at least he was a good sport and put up with it. Lena assumed he’d push back or tell her if she crossed a line... but until then, she had no intention of stopping. “I take it that means you have to change the rest of your plans for the day, then? Considering you’re not going to finish that run of yours. I’m just saying, I wouldn’t mind having company -- at least for a little bit.”

An honest, dry chuckle escaped the young woman’s lips at the other’s response as she looked at her past. Who could honestly say he marriage had been completely based on love, and not Yolotl convincing herself of the same thing he other had been accusing the date-goers? “Elementary, my dear Watson. Some of us cannot stand the idea of being with ourselves for the rest of our lives. Isn’t that why we need so many distractors to keep us from our own minds?” she imposed, smirking at the kin mind next to her. “So you came here to play the violins as the ship sinks, or did the siren called alcohol called upon you?”

She rolled her eyes as Yolo explained that nobody wanted to be alone forever. While that was true, Lena had a hard time believing that the only solution to loneliness was to settle down and pretend to love one person until the day she died. “If I need company, I’ll find it. But I’d rather keep a rotating list of suitors and keep things interesting than grow bored of the same person after twenty years or so. I need to keep things fresh. Interesting.” She scoffed at Yolo’s question. “I have plenty of alcohol at home. But people watching is a sport, and I’m an Olympian. What about you? Why’re you here tonight?”

Thomas looked up at the woman standing above him, and recognised her face. “Yeah, you said I looked like I’d only just graduated from high school,” he replied with a small smirk as he pushed himself to his feet and brushed his hands on his jogging bottoms. He had a quick look at them, seeing some small grazes, and smiled. “I’m good,” he told her as he looked around at the ground and quickly picked up his phone that had fallen from his pocket and luckily not smashed. “I think there’s some oil or something down there, so be careful,” he said with a small laugh. “I also have terrible coordination, so I’m surprised I managed to control my flailing limbs long enough to put my hand down and save my face,” he added with a shrug.

Lena was a lot of things, but she was glad that she was still memorable. At least she hadn’t completely lost her touch. “I stand by it. -- Are you always this uncoordinated? Or is this just a freak accident that I was lucky enough to catch with my own eyes?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe someone should get you a bubble, keep you from hurting yourself. Or anyone else. -- Your phone’s okay, right?” It was weird how often these coincidental bump-into-each-other moments happened in a city as big as New York. Lena wasn’t sure if her luck was terrible or great. “Please tell me you’re not about to head off running again. You should probably take it easy for at least a couple of blocks.”

Okay, sicko. Let’s go. Probably the 20-course personalized meal from Chef’s Table. Why do you ask? Are you putting out a hit?

I think things are going well. We haven’t fought in a pretty long time. We seem to be on the same page about things. I like her boyfriend, even if he almost never remembers who I am. But I can’t exactly tell you how things are without getting her input, can I?

Manhattan is my home, and I think that’s why I feel out of place when I lived anywhere else.  People don’t mince words here, and I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not.

Thomas wasn’t a runner. He didn’t do much exercise at all, really. It wasn’t that he was unfit or didn’t want to take care of his body - he just had other things that took up a lot of his time, so he never got around to it. So, when he’d found himself with nothing to do and a creative block that he was struggling to get past, he’d thought ‘okay, now’s the perfect time to go for a run’, so he put on a t-shirt and joggers and headed out. It all started off great. He got a bit of a cramp in his side, sure, but other than that he was actually enjoying it. The fresh air, the wind on his skin, the sound of the birds and the hustle and bustle of the city around him. But, his clumsiness was bound to catch up to him eventually, and unfortunately it just so happened to be in front of a group of other people.

He was running along the street at a relatively steady pace when his foot caught a slick spot on the sidewalk, and went straight out from underneath him. “Oh fu-” was all that came out of his mouth before he went down, managing to catch himself before his face hit the ground by putting his hand down. “Oh my god,” he said, pushing himself to a sitting position and looking at his scraped hand and now filthy clothes. “My life just flashed before my eyes,” he exclaimed, glancing up at the person who was now stood over him, looking concerned.

As the man came running towards her, Lena moved to the far end of the sidewalk, trying to make room for him in case he didn’t see her in time. But as luck would have it, it looked like he didn’t see much of anything that was in his way. Whether he tripped over his own foot or simply didn’t have much coordination to begin with, Lena didn’t know. The man tripped in front of her, nearly cursed, and in an impressing fashion, stopped himself from hitting the ground face first. “Good thing you didn’t break your nose on the pavement, there,” she joked, a smirk coming onto her face. She offered her hand to help him up, and it was then that she recognized him. “You were at the Valentine’s Day speed dating thing, weren’t you? -- I asked if it was even legal for you to get in? Doesn’t matter if you remember me. Anyway. How do you feel now?”

where: any bar in the city with who: anyone @codstarters​

“I’m tellin’ ya, this kid beat my ass so hard at Mario Kart…it was insane. Clearly I need to step up my Nintendo Switch game if I’m going to beat him the next time I see him again.” Her current case that she and her ada partner were working involved the victim having a kid, and often times if they needed to talk to his mom the son came with. Surprisingly enough, her caseload was pretty light, and kids tended to be more comfortable talking with someone who understood them. Hence Del getting her ass whooped when she played a few rounds of Mario Kart on the son’s Switch as she talked with him. “Now if it’d been a Gameboy, I would’ve had a better chance.” She chuckled, shaking her head. Taking a sip from her beer, she gestured with the bottle to the person she’d been talking to at the bar. “How was your day? Hopefully more interesting than getting your butt kicked by an 8 year old.” Del smirked.

Lena smirked as the other woman described her day, trying (and barely succeeding) not to laugh at the fact that she’d been beaten at a video game by a child. “I don’t know what you expect, really. He’s what? Eight? He probably spends more time playing Mario Kart than you spend working during the day.” She took a sip from her drink and shrugged off Del’s question. “It’s the same old, same old for me. Nothing exciting, no kids beating me at video games, no big breaks... I’m starting to feel like the New York office is more boring than my L.A. one. At least when I lived in Cali, we’d get someone famous stopping by the office every once in a while. Maybe I should get a Switch and start playing Mario Kart on my breaks.”