HONEY AND VINEGAR

 ❝ well i like george and i’m trying to like penny, but it’s not always the easiest task. i know she isn’t the biggest fan of me, however, i am willing to work on it and give her a chance. i assume life’s not always simple for a pretty ballerina with blonde hair, and i get it, i’m the new blonde in town who could steal her spot, but baby, they do call me a thief for a reason. i was born gorgeous and i guess she was born jealous. so maybe we do have the potential to be real sisters with this mindset. but when it comes to george, i’m quite grateful for his welcoming nature. he makes living just a littler easier in darkwood. ❞

.

While Rachel enjoyed talking about music with people, and had a few frequent customers who she could chat with for long stretches of time, she still loved the customers that were self-sufficient. One of the reasons she hadn’t quit her job here after getting her on-campus job was because of all of the down time that she had while customers were browsing or the store was empty, time that allowed her to get some work done while still holding down the job. Chance was a good boss, a good person, really, and he appreciated her passion and insight. Long story short, when the pretty blonde seems to be all set, she shifts her gaze back to her work, scratching down a sentence or two before she hears the woman’s voice once more.

The bright smile that greets her causes her to pause slightly, and the redhead is once more curious about who this stranger is. She has a feeling that she would remember her if she was a local, but then again, why would a stranger be asking her about Penny Carmichael? “I know Penny, yeah,” she nods, because technically it’s true. She knows Penny, they’ve grown up in the same town their entire lives, but Rachel doesn’t have all that much in common with the ballerina. As for her taste in music, the only people she can think to name haven’t even released the albums she’d recommend yet. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on who you were), Harry Styles hadn’t gone out on his own yet. “I’m not entirely sure about her taste in music, though, unfortunately. Maybe Bastille, or The Neighbourhood. The Black Keys might be up her alley, too, but I’m not sure.” Usually when they were spending time together, the drinks were flowing, and music was just in the background, occasionally something that spurred people (but not her, unless Nina was involved) to dance. “She’s a dancer, though. Does ballet. You could maybe pick her up some instrumental music for warm ups, or something.”

❝ 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓, 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 ❞ the blonde comments flippantly and takes off her sun hat, unable to hide a certain smugness about being right. it should come as no surprise; it’s a small town and penny seems like the type of a girl who’d do anything just for a sliver of attention. with some, you had to spend years to get to know them, but honey only needed seconds when it came to penny. for a fleeting moment, it felt like looking into a mirror. honey pitied her. honey understood her, better than most, and perhaps the idea of them being newfound sisters didn’t seem all that foreign. ❝ sure, give me the neighbourhood’s album. you really can’t go wrong with them. there’s just something about jesse rutherford,❞ she chuckles slightly, realizing that she’s truly about to spend her money on someone that she doesn’t even care about, and yet it’s a decent start. ❝ yes, she very much is. throw in two cds of classical music too, something for the warmup of course. i’m not the biggest expert when it comes to ballet music so i’ll let you pick, mademoiselle,❞ the words are followed by a genuine smile and just as she’s about to pull her wallet out of her purse, she pauses and mutters,  ❝ before i forget, could you give me some suggestions for george too? penny’s brother. i need to buy something for him too. ❞ he ought to be an easier crowd, she’s assured.

❝ my adventurousness and my adventurousness. i think it’s really funny to both love and hate the same trait about yourself. my daring and audacious tendencies have led me to the most beautiful places and allowed me to meet amazing people, but they’ve also led me into so much trouble, and without them, my life would’ve been so much simpler. it’s like a knife. it cuts me on both sides. i just happen to like one of the sides.❞

❝ i don’t know. i don’t think that love is something that you have to deserve. love should be given. you can’t earn it and you can’t make someone love you, no matter how much you want them to love you. i have firsthand experience in that department. so i don’t know if i deserve it or if i’ll ever be worthy of it, but i want it. i want to be loved. just once in my life.❞

@savedesttroyed​

nik had never learned how to bake. it wasn’t a trade his father knew, nor one his mother knew, but he could follow directions on the back of a cake box. and his secondary school career proved him to be a very successful cheater ( …in academia – his university years proved him to be a very successful cheater in the love department ). now, he had never met his partner before ( whether that was a matter of simply not remembering another person or the timeline bringing someone else in, he wasn’t sure – but that didn’t matter now ), but he was confident in his own strategy… which was to just fuck everyone else over until theirs was, by default, the best.

when he found this ‘honey,’ he extended a hand with a grin, “ nik marcus. ” did she know ? who knew ! “ full disclosure: i don’t know how to bake, but i do know how to cheat, ” he whispered, sussing her out for her reaction to his lesser idea…

baking’s something, honey supposes, that a mother ought to teach her daughter, and while most girls her age were taught to bake when they were probably just teenagers, she can’t seem to recall a single memory in which her mother had expressed any sort of desires to teach her something. the thing is, the blonde can’t even fathom the notion of how she got tangled up in this competition, but she has every intention to win, even if she’s perfectly aware that the best meal she’s ever cooked were poached eggs, unironically her favorite. at least she doesn’t expect too much from her partner, willing to do all the scheming on his behalf ( or without him knowing ). ❝ it’s great to me you, nik. i’m honey,❞ she smiles, formally shaking his hand.  

and look, nik suddenly appears to be full of surprises. now he’s speaking her language. ❝ and i’m well-versed in sabotage. i think we’ll make a fine team, nik. so what should we do first? steal some ingredients? or perhaps increase the temperature of the ovens? ❞

“honey, huh,” drunk, he may have been but it was clear even in this state that this was a substantial change in realities. he was pretty sure he would of remembered george having a good looking blonde girl living with him in reality one even if he had spent most of the time partying to high heavens. it takes his brain a few minutes to whir and create some kind of timeline to double check that he’d never seen this person before yet he looked at her with ZERO RECOGNITION, a stranger that he was totally sure that he’d never met in his entire life. not even in the years preceding the events of the darkwood fires before his death. oh, fuck, this was really bad.

“so, are you like vacationing in darkwood?” he asks, mainly wondering if maybe her presence might be short and sweet and not royally fuck with the timeline they were already tearing to pieces. he hasn’t noticed he ignores the question about a drink but manages to steady himself compared to before, a look of strange concern on his face but there’s no judgement. he doesn’t know who she is ; he has no real inkling of what she’s up to or why she might be here, his brain is simply trying to find a logical explanation for this giant shift. had she too had another life or did she simply not know she’d entered from stage left on the biggest AU fuck up of all time ?

❝𝙊𝙍 𝙂𝙀𝙊𝙍𝙂𝙄𝙉𝘼, 𝙄 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙔 𝘿𝙊 𝙇𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙂𝙀𝙊𝙍𝙂𝙄𝙉𝘼, 𝙄 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆 𝙄𝙏 𝙎𝙐𝙄𝙏𝙎 𝙈𝙀 𝙒𝙀𝙇𝙇,❞ another tease, but she supposes that it’s not really ethical to mess with a drunk man. well neither is theft but she lives perfectly fine with that. so she only chuckles to herself, intrigued by the slightly visible shift in his mood.  ❝vacationing? ha that’s a good one. that almost made me laugh. you’re funny, you’re actually really funny, you know, ❞ now why does everyone seem to care so much about a new resident? is it so uncommon to seek some peace in a town like darkwood? sure, that’s definitely not her story, a story of a girl who willingly wishes to find a new life, but she can’t be that interesting. no, in fact, she shouldn’t be.  ❝first of all, i don’t even know you. you could be a cat burglar. not a really skilled one, that is.❞

❝ so why exactly would i share my life story with you? you didn’t even mention your own name or said something like, ‘oh honey, nice to meet you, i’m daniel’. by the way you do look like a daniel,❞ in the end, she has to laugh, a proper thespian waiting for her applause. all right now’s maybe the time to stop taunting the poor drunkard. ❝ so i’m honey and i’m the newest member of the carmichael family, just not in a traditional sense. i was sent to live here because of troubles back home, which means that you better get used to seeing me around. ❞

❝ 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒, 𝙄’𝙑𝙀 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝘽𝙀𝙀𝙉 𝙏𝙊 𝘼 𝙁𝘼𝙍𝙈 𝘽𝙀𝙁𝙊𝙍𝙀,❞ she begins, voice light, characteristically soft, and yet despite its warmth, she’s certain that it doesn’t fully convey her gratitude. she barely knows the girl with flaxen hair before her, convinced that she’d have trouble with recalling her last name right on the spot, but it’s the warm-heartedness that counts, the simple act of inviting a stranger into your home and welcoming them to town. honey’d never say it, never dare to even let the thought linger, but it means to her more than mere words could ever show. some things don’t have to be said. some emotions cannot be translate into sentences. ❝ but i would like to thank you for the invite. it’s sweet that i get to see other parts of darkwood, perhaps now even with my own private tour guide? ❞ the corners of her mouth curve gradually as she quickly glances around and then remembers that she’s still holding a basket of fresh fruit in her hands. ❝ oh and these are for you. a more formal thank you,❞ it’s her mother’s tradition, or so honey thought as she was unable to recall even the simplest parts of her old life which didn’t include chaos in some form. life was always a dance with disarray. ❝ by the way, do you have any baby cows around here? ❞

Music was a surprisingly popular Easter gift in Darkwood. whether that be in the form of records, CDs, or gift cards, so Rachel had been kept busy (and entertained, some of the customers had a lot to say) all day. The record store was quiet now, however, and with only an hour to go before closing, the redhead was simply taking the chance to get some homework done. Despite how much she loved learning and reading, even she would admit that studying for an exam she’d already taken years ago was a bit frustrating.

The bell above the door chimes as someone comes in, and Rachel looks up, her pen stilling in her notebook. The person entering the store is young, probably around her age, but their face isn’t familiar in the slightest. She briefly wonders if it’s someone just passing through (they were rare at the shop, but not impossible). “Hey, I’m right up here if you need anything.” At work, Rachel needed to be a bit more outgoing than she naturally was, so she gives the person a slight grin.

@savedesttroyed​

𝘼 𝙇𝙄𝙏𝙏𝙇𝙀 𝙂𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝙀𝙎 𝘼 𝙇𝙊𝙉𝙂 𝙒𝘼𝙔. that’s what they always say, right? that’s why she finds herself right in front a record store, in search of a gift for the carmichael sibling duo. there’s a high possibility that they don’t like her or at best pretend to tolerate her, which by a default sounds natural, but the least she can do is try to show some willingness to cooperate by taking the first step in the right direction. after all, there’s nothing like wasting money on things that will most likely end up on some shelf, covered with dust and utterly forgotten. ❝hey, sure, i’ll keep that in mind,❞ she immediately responds, preferring to shop alone in most cases, without the assistance of vexing salespeople who more than often tried to sell her the things she didn’t actually need. 

but it quickly dawns upon her that she doesn’t know penny or george all that well, or at all, especially not penny. ❝hey again, i’m taking you up on that offer,❞ she strides up to the counter, allowing a dazzling smile to accompany her words as she focuses her gaze on the redhead before her. ❝ i’m looking for ... well i’m not exactly sure what, but it’s supposed to be a present. do you happen to know penny carmichael? or what sort of music she prefers to listen? ❞ given the town’s population, honey’s entirely certain that her assumption’s correct, but whether or not they get along is an entirely different question. she might as well end up with the worst possible present for penny. 

𝙎𝙃𝙀 𝙇𝙀𝙁𝙏 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃𝙊𝙐𝙏 𝘼 𝙂𝙊𝙊𝘿𝘽𝙔𝙀, half-packed and for the first time in her life worried, and it’s maybe because she knew that no one would truly miss her presence. she didn’t say it, didn’t even dare to think of it, but a part of her was bound to miss the familiarity of her hometown, and the never-ending berating from her parents, because no matter how much she always felt unloved, she still clung to them with fervent hope, wishing and thinking that one day they’d change ━ and welcome her into their arms with a forgiving smile. an unlovable child weaned on hatred, a girl who made all the wrong choices in her life, a criminal, she longs for something that she’ll never have  ━ a loving home, even if it’s just for a single day.

the ride to darkwood went by quicker than she had expected as she overslept most of it, but still it brought back a surge of more recent memories, as the last time she had sat in the backseat was in a police car. funny how things change so abruptly, without a single warning and she doesn’t even know what to expect from the carmichael family, but it can’t be anything good. after all who’d willingly agree to welcome a lawbreaker into their home? she snapped back to reality when the driver handed her a cardboard box filled with her things, pointing towards the pair that awaited her near the front door. to honey’s greatest surprise, they seemed kind, good-hearted, a far cry from her own parents that never seemed to smile, and she couldn’t help but feel an unforeseen pang of jealousy. this was real life for others, but not her, never her. after a seemingly brief conversation and some lemonade, they urged her to go and unpack her things, just so she could have enough time to rest. and for the first time, she actually listened. so with the same cardboard box in her hands again, she finds herself on the second floor in hopes of reaching her new bedroom, but instead, she stumbles upon another person. ❝ oh hello, you must be george,❞ the blonde mutters and offers him a smile. ❝ i’m honey. sort of like your new housemate.❞

@savedesttroyed​

it was safe to say he wasn’t sober anymore. there was nothing like overdosing on oxygen to bring back the desire for a good drink. alcohol was a drug too, right? at least it was one that he wouldn’t get in trouble with his parents for. he was a medical enigma as well as a real life one now, too. they didn’t know that, though. it was weird, he’d almost forgotten how concerned they had been at the start of his addiction. with breath that tasted like whisky and a stumble that matched, red sunglasses tilted on his nose, he knew he had to escape even in the darkness of darkwood.

he stumbled through penny and george’s front door (something that had not been all that uncommon back in the day when history was still unwritten). this time though he was pretty sure that he was face to face with as stranger, adjusting his glasses as he stumbled eagerly to the side then stood up straight, “oh shit, we haven’t gone on to body swapping now, right? you’re not george, are you?”

𝙃𝘼𝙇𝙁-𝘼𝙎𝙇𝙀𝙀𝙋 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙈𝙊𝙎𝙏 𝘾𝙀𝙍𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝘽𝙊𝙍𝙀𝘿, she spent the last two hours lounging around the house, unsure of where to go or who to turn to, as the faint and static noise of tv lulled her to sleep. still the rennetless, nearly suffocating boredom swiftly returns, amplifying its persistence as it takes full control over her body, forcing her to move once again. she heads towards the kitchen, hoping to at least find some sweets hidden in the cabinets or the fridge, but in the end, she settles for a glass of orange juice  ━ clearly not her favourite, but it’s not like she truly has a choice. 

however it’s the sudden noise in the hallway that begins to draw her attention and a part of her immediately assumes that it’s either george or penny, or even one of the carmichael parents. it’s a nice theory of course, which ends up being false as she finds herself standing far too close to someone she’s never seen before, obviously under the influence of alcohol. ❝ um body swamping? what are you talking about? if i were george, i’d obviously be a far more attractive version of him. so call me georgina, or honey. whatever you prefer, ❞ the blonde mutters, trying her best to refrain from laughing.  ❝ by the way, do you want me to get you a glass of water? you seem a little... hm ... it doesn’t matter. or perhaps a glass of bourbon? again, take your pick.❞

@savedesttroyed 

𝙊𝙁 𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙎𝙀 𝙃𝙄𝙎 𝙋𝙃𝙊𝙉𝙀 𝘿𝙄𝙀𝙎 𝙉𝙊𝙒. ravi really cannot be that surprised. maybe he was karmically paying for leaving tal behind the last time and upon getting into the town, everything is just off. he knows that he has a job to do, but he needs his equipment. he needs to make sure that he can put everything together to. 

he grabs his windbreaker and heads out, but with a hazy memory he’s wandering aimlessly until he bumps into someone. he notices the blonde and smiles in her direction, putting his phone into his pocket and trying to not let the wind blow him over. “excuse me!” he calls out before jogging over.

“i was wondering if you could point me to the local hardware store? or maybe convenience store? i don’t really know what’s opened around here.“ then with the manners that his mother always taught him, he smiles softly and remembers to be polite. “anything would be grateful, so please and thank you. i’m ravi by the way, new in town.“ 

𝘾𝙇𝘼𝘿 𝙄𝙉 𝘽𝙇𝘼𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍, honey really ought to reconsider her fashion choices, especially when the weather seems to be unforgiving ━ it rages, like a grieving mother. perhaps she needs to buy new things too, more jackets and sweaters for sure, maybe even a warmer coat. but the black leather jacket holds almost sentimental value; she still has a couple of crumpled up receipts from her hometown and a lighter in her side pockets. all useful things for sure. 

but when you’re born with an innate inability to sit still for longer than an hour and find yourself in a town like darkwood, you really have no other option than to wander around until you find something better to do. she doesn’t even know where she’s heading. she usually never does. but anything surpasses the notion of being stuck in a home that’s not your own. 

A blackout really tied Zeki’s hands behind his back for things to do. There was a limited amount he could manage with electric equipment and the need for light in whatever he was doing. He found himself at a loss for things to do, but still spent as much time as he could in the garage. He milked the daylight for what it was worth, distracting himself by working with his hands, trying to make do without electricity. Allowing himself a bit of a break, he sat on the concrete step out front of the garage, watching as the cars passed in the rain. Finally, he brought himself to his feet and began a stroll down the sidewalk into town, umbrella shielding his head. Moments into this stroll, a gust of wind caught Zeki’s umbrella and flipped it inside out and right out of his hand. “Fuckin’ hell,” he muttered under his breath, grasping the handle right before it smacked someone in the face. “Sorry ‘bout that. This weather’s got a mind of its own.”

𝙎𝙃𝙀 𝙉𝙀𝙑𝙀𝙍 𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙇𝙔 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙆𝙎 𝙏𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 through; ultimately, it's the destination that matters, now how you get there. it's a mantra, it's a prayer, it's a life motto that you could slap onto a poster and tape it on some wall, and it’s a combination of words that have grown so close to honey’s heart. maybe that's why she so often finds herself tiptoeing near the lines of trouble, unsure of which paths to take so ultimately she ends up in all the wrong places. that's how she finds herself trudging down the sidewalk, in a town that’s far from ideal, but it’s not like she could just pack her bags again and move, not when she has a police record attached to her name. with hands in shallow pockets and a baseball cap on her head, she has nothing else to shield her from the rain. it’s a preference, she’ll say to anyone who asks, unwilling to mention the part that she didn’t want to bring an umbrella. it's just an inconvenience, something she’d most definitely end up leaving and forgetting on a random park bench, even if it's raining. ❝ hey watch it, ❞ she mutters the words with a laugh as she quickly takes a step back.  ❝ it’s fine. but i did almost just lose my eye, which does make wonder if i’d look good with those weird pirate eye patches. anyways, it’s not even raining that hard anymore. it’s just... windy. ❞