𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖 */ 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦

her  whole  interaction  with  ziggy  earlier  in  the  night  has  faux  feelings  of  sickness  crawling  up  her  spine,  losing  her  phone  does  not  give  her  any  relief  from  that.  irving  isn’t  exactly  known  for  it’s  graceful  fashion  sense  or  wild  parties,  but  the  founders  festival  is  what  they  have  to  work  with,  and  that’s  fine  with  aviva.  doesn’t  think  she  could  take  anything  much  better  than  this.  hands  moving  to  check  all  her  pockets  one  more  time  -  bra  included,  not  that  she  has  any  others  -  when  nadira  speaks,  panic  washing  away  from  her  veins  like  some  kind  of  cleanser.  “aw  shit,”  makes  grabby  hand  motion  for  it  back.  “thank  you  —-  hey!”  pouts  at  the  comment,  placing  the  phone  back  inside  her  bra  for  safe  keeping.  “that’s  not  true.  i  get  by  very  well  headless,  i’ll  have  you  know.”  snorts  as  she  laughs.  “you  havin’  a  good  time  ‘side  from  my  freak  out?”

( @irvingstarters​ ) OPEN TO THOSE AT  𝑰𝑹𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑭𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑨𝑳 .. been  going  to  this  thing  since  her  parents  ALLOWED  IT  ——-  mother  always  declared  it  was  a  place  full  of  trouble,  her  brothers  were  able  to  convince  her  to  go  in  her  early  teens,  with  a  curfew,  of  course.  but  she’s  an  adult  and  none  of  that  matters  now.  aviva’s  looking  around  like  that  child  she  used  to  be  -  stomping  around  on  a  mission.  can’t  find  her  phone.  her  lifeline,  her  electronic  baby  is  gone.  “y’seen  a  phone?”  asks  the  person  in  front  of  her  line  of  vision,  eyes  darting  the  ground  and  their  person  to  make  sure  they  didn’t  pick  it  up  or  god  forbid  steal  it..  if  the  latter,  there’ll  be  hell  to  pay.  only  brought  her  phone  and  small  wallet,  safe  in  her  bra.  her  phone?  somewhere  —-  probably  smashed  to  bits,  but  at  least  she’d  have  it.  “pink  -  iphone  11?  can’t  tell  if  some  dickhead  stole  it  or  if  i’m  just  like,  losing  my  shit.”

N: Are they clumsy and/or prone to accidents? 

nadira looks like she should be graceful , but is actually very clumsy . she usually always has at least one bruise on her leg or hip just from bumping into a door or the end of the couch too many times . a bitch can walk in heels though , so she has that going for her .

A: Who are their exes? Do they still keep in touch?

an ex for each A ! she dated judas for six-ish ( i think dkfjldsfj ) months when she first moved to irving . they’re not in touch because she wants to be , but they cross paths in town . unluckily , she is also good friends with his roommate beau , so seeing him around is inevitable . @jackfr0sted @melichryscs

D: What time does their day usually start?

out of a lifelong habit , she’s still an early riser , but she doesn’t actually need to get out of bed these days . sometimes , she sets a routine for herself and starts her day at 7 am . other days , she can’t be bothered . ( if i said otherwise in a previous hc ask , no i didn’t )

I: In general, are they organized or messy? 

organized af . in nadira’s mind , everything has a home and must be returned to its place . her life was often so chaotic that she couldn’t live with it physically around her , too .

R: When’s the last time they had a birthday party? 

her 24th birthday . nadira used to throw an extravagant party every year , both as an actual birthday celebration and an excuse to network and treat anybody who was somebody in the fashion industry . she hasn’t thrown one since -- she actually almost forgot her 25th birthday because taking care of her dad consumed her , and she was in no mood to celebrate her 26th birthday , just a month after losing him .  ( i did not double check the timeline with my intro ... i think this is right but .. who knows )

A: Who are their exes? Do they still keep in touch?

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?

he won’t admit it , but growing up , it really was just pure , unadulterated hope . hope for his family , whether blood , foster , or adopted , hope for something better around the corner . being optimistic was the only mindset that kept him going day to day . slowly , that transformed into just needing to survive , in whatever capacity . he’s also motivated by other people’s joy , in a way that i don’t think he’s aware either . in some ways , his daily goal seems to be making other people laugh , relax , and have a good time , because that ultimately will mean they like him and spend time with him .

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

salvia :   is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ?  how do they express that possessiveness ,   or lack thereof ?

luca doesn’t have a possessive bone in his body ... or at least a healthy way of expressing it if he did feel that way about someone or something . he is the definition of someone who is detached emotionally . for material things , he never had a lot growing up . even a home was always a question mark , so he sees everything as disposable . similarly with people , he doesn’t expect anyone to stick around , and he knows himself well enough to know he won’t either . it’s easier if he’s not possessive .

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

          TRIX  ONLY  MANAGES  TO  go outside in the wee hours of the morning or at the dead of night, usually to avoid contact with other people and the sun, but plans go astray too often for them to keep track of. this was one of those moments where they were much too tired and absent minded to even begin forming proper sentences, and instead shook their head ‘ no ’.  “  oh god, no, you’re totally fine. didn’t think anyone was around this late, ‘s when i usually get coffee or something to stay awake. ”  they offer up sheepishly, finally looking up at the other person for the first time since almost bumping into them.  “  but hey, i’ve never actually met any of my neighbours so it’s nice. maybe god’s trying to tell me something. i’m trix, by the way.  ”  they outstretched a hand for good measure, trying their best to not be their usual awkward self.

victor: u up?

rosie: yes ! finishing up some work

          VINCENT  HUMS  AFFIRMATIVELY,  GRABBING  hold of the bourbon by its neck, pouring measured portions of lemon juice and syrup into the cup before shaking it. “ hope you don’t mind, but we don’t have egg whites in house right now. ” they noticed the way she came in, and thought it better to ignore it rather than comment, opting for small talk to at least provide a more lively atmosphere than the eerily quiet one in the bar right then. “ you usually pre-game whiskey at, ” they glance up at the clock to check the time. “ 4 p.m ? not that there’s anything wrong with that, just curious. ” they broke the silence questioningly, straining the contents of their shaker out into a glass with a cherry on top.

“let’s not calling it owing, then. i want to clear the air with you.” regardless of what happened in new york, rosie is still his friend. it doesn’t feel like he has many of those around anymore, especially in irving; he doesn’t want to lose any more, and especially not rosie. he takes a step in her direction, an eyebrow arched playfully as he comes to a stop directly in front of her, then takes two giant steps backwards before sliding to the floor himself. he spreads his legs into a “v” and leans forward onto his forearms — his go-to “at rest” position in the dance studio, though it gives more resistance than it used to; he’s really out of practice. “so, the show…”  he starts, pressing his lips together. “dear evan hansen was nothing compared to disenchanted. i’d never been part of a show from start to finish before that, and it was a brand new show. we were getting new numbers every day, getting changes even more often. i was working ten, twelve hours days going back and forth between dance rehearsals and song rehearsals, then staging and lines and — honestly, i would get home and pass out from exhaustion, then do it all again the next day. and don’t get me wrong, i loved every minute, but god —” he trails off, shaking his head with a smile far too nostalgic for something that had been his life only a few months ago. “i thought about you whenever i had a spare moment, but as soon as i’d pick up my phone — bam, was needed for something else. i thought, maybe once we’re through previews, i can finally call her and hope she hasn’t moved on already…and you know how that story ends.” eyes blink back tears at thoughts of his dad, of the relationship he’d never been able to repair. there’s nothing he can do about that now. “then once i was back in town, it was dealing with somehow still being the executor of his estate, of taking over the garage, of leaving the life i’d built behind me and backpedaling to something i never really wanted. this is the first time i’ve done something for myself since coming back.” he pushes up from the floor, pressing his palms into the floor. “and that’s why i ghosted. if it makes you feel better at all, my sisters yelled at me for doing the same thing to them. i haven’t gotten that work/life balance under control yet, but i’m working on it.” he pulls his legs in, knees bending into his chest and arms wrapping around them. “if we don’t want this to seem like me explaining why i disappeared after we kissed, you could tell me what you’ve been up to… i’d really like to know, actually.”

THE  INFAMOUS  GHOSTKING  OF  the  twitch  space  knew  no  bounds  when  it  came  to  producing  content,  sometimes  pushing  themselves  past  their  limits  on  days  they  could  afford  to  only  get  a  few  hours  of  sleep.  one  would  say  it  was  unhealthy,  others  would  want  to  see  how  far  they  would  go,  but  from  where  they  were  perched  on  their  workspace,  slowly  but  surely  chipping  away  at  the  last  few  minutes  of  screentime  to  their  stream  with  a  smile,  seemingly  too  focused  to  even  bother  with  the  time,  only  realizing  after  almost  falling  asleep  a  half  hour  after  their  live  ended  that  it  was  way  past  midnight,  stretching  their  limbs  out  and  making  their  way  to  the  entryway  of  their  apartment,   locking  the  door  on  their  way  out.  walking  out  of  the  building  not  a  moment  later  about  to  collide  with  somebody,  their  reflexes  stopping  them  before  doing  so,  though  it  made  their  heart  race  faster  with  the  adrenaline  now  pumping  through  their  veins.  in  spite  of  being  on  the  shorter  side,  they  apologize  profusely.  “  i’m  sorry  !  sorry,  that  was  my  bad.  i  really  didn’t  see  you  there.  ”

            “  ARE  …  YOU  LOOKING  TO  get  anything  in  particular  ?”  they  glance  at  the  person  from  the  other  side  of  the  counter,  wiping  their  hands  clean  with  the  cloth  used  to  dry  glasses.  they’re  used  to  youngsters  coming  into  the  bar  with  all  sorts  of  excuses  to  get  their  conniving  hands  on  some  bloody  marys  or  long  islands,  and  they’re  ready  to  turn  them  away  if  it  came  down  to  checking  their  id’s,  but  they  never  makes  it  obvious  until  they’ve  just  about  had  enough  with  the  nice  guy  act.  it’s  pretty  quiet  for  a  sunday  afternoon,  even  in  the  small  little  town  of  irving,  so  this  time  vincent  just  smiles  —  utterly  plastic  and  shamelessly  feigning.  “  how  can  i  help  you  ?”

his laissez-faire energy somehow makes her feel more tense, though she’s only ever otherwise when she’s not sober — and that will not be happening ever again, not if she can help it. running into luca again is almost a slap to the face to all the progress she’d made, a reminder of all the mistakes she’d made — though, not as much of a reminder as the husband she’s still trying to figure out how to divorce, drunken marriage or not. “i’ve been gone for the past six — or, seven years. i guess we didn’t run in the same circles.” eyes scan the shelves to see if there’s anything else in the vicinity that she needs, so she doesn’t need to stay around for this very unwelcome encounter. “i wouldn’t know, i haven’t had many.” hook-ups, sure, but they’ve always been extended “friends with benefits” situations, or turned into almost relationships. if she thinks hard enough about it, luca may be the only actual one night stand she’s ever had. he doesn’t need to know that, though. “if you’ll excuse me, i need to grab a few more things and head home — thesis work, can’t let it get away from me.”