punisher

“Little old you? Is it because of the botox jokes? Cause you know I meant Julian, right?” Of course. Most of his jokes regarding Mme Governor (if that title was even a thing that made sense) revolved on how someone so clever shouldn’t be allowed to also be successful and beautiful and a delight to be around. His hypothesis: she had a dark secret to hide. Hypothesis² : Naomi was actually born in Jersey. Now you had to compensate for that.

“Anyhow, your kids are lovely, and I take back what I said about you being a delight. You’re rude, Naomi Berkeley,” leaning back into his chair, he laughs as she mentions Jessica Chastain. “One day, Inchallah,” his smile broadens, “would I have more luck stealing you away from our dear governor? C’mon, the kids already seem to love me.” Beat. “Are we ordering drinks first, or do you need to work after this?”

x

location: some fancy restaurant a hot shot would be a regular at

     event: gotham hall fundraiser gala      with: @naomiberkeley

     Women didn’t particularly like him ( and that was fine, it was reciprocal ) but wives… Those were a whole different issue. One in particular deserved that much attention, if anything because of the last name attached to her first. “Mrs Berkeley, lovely as ever,” he even went so far as to gently take her hand and bow his head. He tilted his cocktail against his lips and took a reluctant sip. How ironic, he thought, it’s too fruity. “How do you like the gala? I think even Dave is on his best behaviour,” the last bit, of course, was spoken in a lower tone and paired with a cheeky grin. No matter how hard he tried to hide it, his true colors shined through. “How many people have asked you to invest so far? Anything worth mentioning?”

@naomiberkeley​

As rehearsed and as expected, the Berkeleys make the rounds — boasting smiles and shaking hands with friends and foes alike. It’s as tiring and ridiculous as one’s imagination strikes: an avalanche of How are the kids’s, Glad you could make it’s, Did you catch the baseball’s, Sorry to hear that’s, and so the rolodex spins. Together, the two of them are picture-perfect — and the flashes would later reveal as such, when photographs sprinkle through the web. But as the pair walks away from a Republican senator just then, all Julian whispers to his wife is, “Son of a bitch.” 

x

location: a library open to everyone

Alexander is browsing through books, a little absentminded to the world around him, searching for a specific books on the economical status between 1750s and 1770s, since he’s writing an article about it and he’s doing as much research about it as he can. Plus, he needs inspiration for a catchy title, something that would bring attention to what he’s writing about.

It’s his own way of fun, if he’s being honest. When he’s not… doing someone, that is. He does have a life between the heartbreaks.

As per usual, he gets a little too caught up in the moment, losing himself in the many titles before him, reading paragraphs after paragraphs, from the books— that is until he finds the book he needs. 

“Excuse me,” He clears his throat to the person standing right in front of the shelf, preventing him from reaching his desired book. “There’s a book right there that I need.”

He then looks the person up and down. “And maybe a phone number that could come with it?”

x 

  “Are libraries where young people are meeting each other nowadays? And they say that dating apps killed romance.” She’d been pursuing the shelves aimlessly per her custom, moving slowly, without any finite object or goal. Naomi sought whatever book caught her eye; dedicated must read lists were set aside for the whims of the stacks. Turning to the young bystander, Naomi stepped aside, making way for him to move forward. “Do you often find economic books are the best way to meet people, or are economics just so thrilling, that you just couldn’t help yourself?”

open .  location . central park ( literary walk )

         Daniela was tired—not just the type of tired like she hadn’t gotten sleep last night, but tired as if she had been tired for years. One of the worst things about her job was that she held odd hours. The other problem with her job was that she didn’t want to do it anymore. Working on the side wasn’t a problem for her, as long as she was able to get enough money to help her brother with the things he needed help with. It was the Cartel that was becoming a problem for her. She was all over the city at strange hours and she knew it was dangerous to cross people in her current profession. Her family deserved better from her and honestly, she wasn’t sure what she could do to change it right now when she was trying to help her brother get through college. Daniela wanted her siblings to have the life that she couldn’t necessarily have.

         One of her favorite places to go and just think was the Literary Walk. She needed a plan first before she even thought of a way to put her life back on track. There was no going back to playing soccer, that ship had sailed. Although a part of her would always hate that she gave up her life, Daniela was glad that she had the means to take care of her siblings instead of letting them grow up in foster care. Lost in thought, Daniela didn’t notice a drone flying at her face until it was too late. It hit her smack in the forehead and she watched as two young teens started flying it towards themselves as they gathered their stuff up to run away.

         “Hey! Watch where you’re flying that!” she yelled after them, hand on her forehead to stop the bleeding, but they were too far away to hear her.  

x 

   It was a boring, mundane pleasure, but Naomi treasured her strolls through the parks; airpods in, she afforded herself fifteen or so minutes, of peace. Rarely did she seek to engage with anyone whilst she strolled, preferring the company of a soundtrack or podcast; but the young woman, hit unceremoniously with a drone, caught her attention. “Are you okay? I think amazon unleashed a menace onto the world, making drones so easily purchased.” Naomi approached, sliding the airpods from her ears as to hear better - she surveyed the other woman with maternal concern. “Kids, right? I have two myself, but I like to think if they smacked a lady with a drone, they’d at least check up on her - if it makes you feel better, the mark isn’t too bad. Still, if you ever find them, ask them for damages.” 

–

A small curl of his lips at the mention of Casa Amor gave him away. “It’s the best part of every season,” he said, finally cracking with a smile. Reality TV typically wasn’t his cup of tea, but Devon had managed to get him hooked on a few. Dance Moms, however, was pushing it. “Ugh, that show is the worst. Can’t stand those women.” Seeing the women on that show almost made him thankful that his own mother had left him – couldn’t be worth it. 

David nodded in acceptance to her offer, setting his pile of things on the counter; he couldn’t see any situation where he would turn down free food. Most of the actual meals he ate were in the Berkeley household, really – or at Julian’s mom’s. “If I’m gonna be wearing a skirt, I’m gonna need more than a giftcard. Coffee and a hashbrown waiting here when I arrive… then we’ll talk.” 

He wished he could say it had been a while since he’d had a pudding cup, but it hadn’t. In fact, he’d just bought a six pack for himself the other week that ended up serving as his dinner one night. “Every day is paradise,” he looked up at her with an exaggerated grin, peeling the lid off the pudding cup. “Really, though, feeling good. I think we’ve got a really good trajectory lined up now.” The excitement that shone through his perpetual state of exhaustion helped to ratify that. Keaton’s resignation was speeding things up, just as they’d hoped, clearing the path for Julian to run with one less obstacle. He paused for a few moments, easily sidetracked back into thoughts of work. “Peach? Really?” He tapped his spoon against his pudding, thinking hard. “I’m not so sure about that. Maybe if I hit the tanning booth. What’s for dinner?” 

x

  “We could get on the show if you’d like, David - I’m sure an eligible, seasoned man like yourself would do quite well.” Which isn’t to say David’s old (only in spirit), but compared to the barely twenty year olds that populate the show, he’s a senior citizen. “Dance Moms is a pioneering piece of culture! And you will never, ever share that I said that, on penalty of death.” Naomi Berkeley, esteemed lawyer and surveyor of low rent reality television, were not descriptions that sat side by side neatly. The image of David squeezing into a skirt for the love of Dunkin however, was pleasing. “Do they even use real potatoes in those things? I feel like if we did an x-ray scan, your insides would turn up green. But okay....for a hash brown and a donut of your choice.”  

    Naomi knows she should offer him something better; David was a man whose greatest sustaining force, was his job and drip brew coffee. He excelled at every venture he engaged in, but nutrition and three meals a day, seemed to allude him, fancy degrees and all. “Any word on what Holbrook is cooking up to fill the very polite and sweater wearing gap that Keaton left? If Keaton was peaceful and dignified, then his successor can only be ... someone poised to be the antithesis.” Whether the successor engaged with the Mayor’s agenda, mattered little to Naomi - their potential aid or hindrance to Julian’s ascent, remained fervently on her mind. “You could at least try it....all that grey, dark blue, khaki. You’re not going to catch that next wife wearing the colors of a retired British post officer worker.” With only peace and love, of course. “Hit the tanning booth with your Dunkin addiction and you’re one grey pair of sweatpants of looking like you belong in Jersey. We’re having meatloaf.” She pauses for a beat. “I’m kidding, really - I think Julian would be in Paris by the time I unthawed the meat. It’s lemon chicken night.”

Angelina let out a genuine laugh, soft and amused, as she regarded the other woman with a shake of her head, “I would make a very attractive James Bond, but don’t you think Mr. Holbrook and I would make an inspired Chucky and Bride of Chucky?” She teased, “But no, no, I think we’re going to go as Wayne and Garth from Wayne’s World… I have personally never seen it, but my kids and staff said it would be funny and who am I to say no to look a little less… uptight. I’m being whichever one is blonde supposedly.” A shrug rolled off her shoulders- she’d worn too many ‘glamorous’ Halloween costumes allegedly. It was time to ‘show a different side’ her team had said and she’d reluctantly agreed, “Anyway, what about you? What are you going as?” She glanced at the spread of food in front of them then, a grin curling her lips, “I’m not complaining. I can’t deny a perfect breadstick. I’ve eaten at Balthazar and Carbone enough times to last me a lifetime. Plus, we deserve a day off from that sort of life, don’t we?” Though, even now, she couldn’t completely turn off the façade she’d perfected, “If I get butter on this suit, though, you’re paying for the dry cleaning.” She joked with a wink. 

Open Starter For: Anyone 

Where: Meduza Party

Time stood still for Dax. 

Parties weren’t exactly her forte, nor did she know how to act around those who were intoxicated, unless she was arresting them for a DUI or anything under that category. Dax’s eyes fell upon the person staring back at her from the balcony. She raised her glass to them as a greeting without the face-to-face contact. Her eyes screamed, ’help me”.’ 

She was stuck in a conversation she did not want to be in. 

Naomi as Morticia Addams to Julian’s Gomez (all credit to gomez for making this, i am but a thief)

Right, count your blessings and all of that. At least it was only one tire and not three – something she never wanted to experience again. “That would be appreciated,” Verena said with the smile still intact. One hand went for the offered phone while the other went to give two firm shakes. Phone dialed and lifted to her ear, she wondered if misfortune would continue on with the timeframe of a pickup. “Unfortunate circumstance to meet you, Naomi, but I’m Verena. And I was just heading home for a bit– so thank you, but I’d rather wait until they get here.” 

—

”I highly doubt that she did, but she was so rude about it and tried to explain to me that I was in the wrong for not letting her end up in the hospital. I asked her what she thought a sangria consisted of and she told me it was Tequila because both of them were ‘Spanish drinks’.” Aysun used air quotes at the end, her amusement at the stupidity clearly shining through. “She wanted to talk to my manager. What else?”

x

  “I’m embarrassed to be part of the demographic that speaks so openly, and so ignorantly, about things; but to be honest? I’m half shocked she even knew what sangria was, even with a poor definition.” People had always been awful, and insufferable; yet there had been a strange turn in the last few years, which saw people acting without any sense of shame. “At least tell me she wasn’t rocking a high low haircut, or white and black highlights that make her look like a cartoon tiger.” 

location: olive garden (reserved room) 

“It tastes even better”, Mirela added with a small nod to the woman near her. “You can say that, but I’m glad the most stressful part is over”, she added. Facing her mother’s drama was more tiresome than organizing and exhibit. But thankfully, Mirela didn’t allow the stress to affect her or the baby. She never planned getting pregnant so soon, but deep down she always knew she’d have a baby out of wedlock, that’s why managing her mother was bearable. “I skipped breakfast, and only manage to have snacks during the morning. I was literally starving”, she chuckled and took another bite of her food. “It does, soon it would be Christmas and New Year, it’s crazy right? I get tired of just thinking about it”, she said. By the end of the year, she’d be half way the pregnancy, and she couldn’t help but wondering for a moment of how she’d look by then. “I don’t know, perhaps watching terror movies on Netflix and eat as much as sugar I can have”, she chuckled. “What are your ideas for the costumes? Perhaps I can help if you talk a bit about your family”, she suggested.

x

 “Summer here was quite stressful, wasn’t it? Here’s to a prosperous and quiet fall.” Such a thing didn’t exist in New York City, but the dramatic highs of the summer, would be hard to continue duplicating - on the heels of the resignation, Naomi aspired for peaceful times. “The most important meal of the day, and I feel like I rarely meet a woman who says she eats it - I’m sure Freud, would love to say something about that.” Not that she, was a believer or fan, of the long gone crypt keeper. “I can’t believe we’re going to be going into 2022; I was in the midst of my youth, when we entered a new millennia.” Rather then cowering from age or denying her own, Naomi felt wisened by her years; proud, that she could mark large milestones, with personal moments. “Netflix and candy sounds like a dream, really - are you staying in to avoid the crazy partygoers?” Her own night, would be filled with candy and the throws of domesticity; the type of life, most dreamed about. “We’re rather nuclear, if you think about it - my husband, myself, and then a son and daughter. I suppose the Incredibles, are a prime choice? Though I’ll admit, my Disney knowledge is rather rusty.”

@naomiberkeley​​

The news had rippled through the city, but the Berkeleys’ ground remained unshaken. Although his wife knew of the talks that had been developing for weeks, Julian had done his best to shield any more concrete ideas — lest they fall apart along with promises. His word is his bond with his voters, but with Naomi? It’s gospel. 

Eight o’clock rolls around, and he climbs up the steps of the Governor’s mansion with something in hand, and a destination in mind. The kids had been his first stop — plenty of kisses to both their foreheads and a recount of his day that they wouldn’t ever remember —, and then, their suite. Julian finds her in front of he mirror, and promptly attaches his reflection to Naomi’s; today’s New York Times slid onto the dresser above her jewelry. “I’m late,” he admits, “but this time, with good reason.” Hence, what he’d just slipped into view. Warm palms soothe over Naomi’s shoulders, down her arms — and into the mirror, he meets her gaze: “Are you dressing up to celebrate?” 

x

     “The king is dead, long live the king.” For the the resignation of one man, and the crumbling of his career, would not stop the wheel from turning; she, the husband behind her, gently warming her back with his palms - they would live to see many a man, be ruined. Naomi relished the news as much as it touched her; not with pity or dismay, but with a resounding sense of importance. It marked a shift for the city, and a new chapter, in the ever winding criminal affairs of New York City. “I’m never one to miss an opportunity to take you to dinner - albeit it, a meal served in our own home. Is it callous of me, to celebrate? I can’t truly decide; but I’m happy, I must admit. You weathered the storm, and have come out the other side, as you always will - did you see what the Times said? The Governor looked rather smart, in his black suit.” Julian required no assistance to dress, nor present himself; he wasn’t a man child, like many of his political contemporaries; Naomi  did however, picture the devoted hand of Stoll, handing Julian a suit eagerly. “I’ve been thinking about Halloween; while I wanted you to dress up as a character from Boogie Nights, perhaps something more tasteful, is in order. Henry the II and Queen Eleanor? If only I were actually ten years your senior and didn’t look it.”

–

“I wasn’t watching it. It just came on,” he insisted, a bit too quickly. He compiled the loose papers that were scattered around as Naomi spoke, trying his best to consolidate the mess he’d made. “Oh? Well congrats on that. For now, I guess.” Dave placed the papers on top of his laptop, gradually adding to a neater stack. “I can get out of your hair – should probably drop this paperwork off at the office anyway.” Which would mean he’d likely end up getting roped into more work, which would even more likely lead to him sleeping on his office couch – not an uncommon occurrence, especially as of late. He flashes a grin at the Mary Poppins comment. “Yeah, you wish. You’ll have to start tipping me if you wanna see these calves.” 

Finally his pile of work and electronics winds up in a semi-organized stack, which he places on the kitchen counter. “I wouldn’t quite say that… I don’t think I’d be able to handle your job in a million years. Or want it. No offense, of course.” Another grin, traced with exhaustion. “It’s going as smoothly as it can right now, though I don’t want to jinx it.” He rests his elbows on the counter, raising his eyebrows as if they were a couple of girls gossiping. “I suggested navy. More authoritative, I think – and pairs best with his dreamy eyes, of course.”

x 

  “Right .... because certainly, you haven’t talked at all to any of the staffers about how excited you are for the Casa De Amor.” She liked David - it’s why she tried in earnest, to make him squirm in whatever seat he’s resting in. Setting down her things, Naomi moves into the living room; a space David fits into neatly, naturally. “It’ll all go to shit, I’m sure - but for now, I enjoy a Dance Moms rerun in peace.” Naomi waves away any notion of David scurrying out of the house, back to the office that operates as a second home, for he and Julian - her mind had already laid a dozen plans, mainly centering around what vegetables she could sneak into his dinner. “C’mon, you won’t run out of here because of little old me, will you? Stay for dinner - the kids will be glad to see you. I’m starving, anyway.” David operated like a bachelor; work, supplanting any void, left in his personal life. “Is that a proposition, Mr. Stoll? I’m sure Julian could arrange a Dunkin gift card or too, to supplant you.” 

  She opens the fridge, fingers passing over a dozen or so neatly packed items, before landing on a pair of pudding cups. “I think it has the same amount of glamour as your current gig, but a seventy percent decrease in Berkeley one on one time. Besides, what’d he do without you?” Well spoken and thorough, Naomi can envision him as a lawyer; albeit, a suit for some large corporation. “And with everything going down, you’re still feeling.... alright?” The resignation, the robbery, which had grown to a distant, painful memory. “Navy does bring out those dreamy eyes - well played, Stoll. I’d like to say, I think you’re much more of a peach suit man, then you give yourself credit for. Pudding cup?”