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⁰¹ˑ DESMOND 'DES' FELDMAN, introduction + navigation links. ⁰²ˑ MONTANA 'MONTY' MARCHISIO, introduction + navigation links.

it could've been all his fault, the run in, shoulder-checking or being shoulder checked by a familiar face he so desperately wished he didn't recognize. alas, it was much easier for des to shrug off the blame, project every bit of unresolved annoyance into this one instance. very mature, desmond; that's what his rational side would tell him, only if it didn't all go to the wind the moment he'd found himself in dante's vicinity. " seriously? no 'sorry,' no nothing? " he called out to the other, who already seemed to be mowing along, despite bumping into him enough to steer desmond off course. " shame we aren't on the field; the way you play, you'd probably clutch your arm 'n wait for a ref to give me a penalty. "

the wonder was through the roof, completely and utterly enraptured by jackie divulging the details of her job, with wide eyes staring over at the other from behind her milkshake. monty is thankful, grateful even; she knows it isn't easy, the questions, the prying, especially not in the manner she tends to approach subjects and people of interest, but alas! " i don't know, i'm just like... how do you know? like, that they're really there? " the words of a hopeful skeptic, agnostic in terms of everything non-physical. damn her own indecisiveness! " it's just... i don't know what i'd do if i saw something, or heard something, or see somethin' pop up on one of those machines of yours, you know? i feel like i'd do everything to rationalize it, just so i don't die from fear. "

her attention is all-encompassing, marked with the surefire micro-expressions of nothing other than concentration and focus. a crease, seated between two brows, only furthered by eyes narrowed and a chewed lip out of habit. it was this portrait, something pulled straight out of a vintage movie or a horror flick, or perhaps both all combined into one: a family, blank faces and upright stances, surely adorned in their finest garb. " i feel like it's... haunted? " she doesn't mean to speak, it more so tumbles out on instinct, as if monty's own psyche is searching for respite in the figure looming near, surely someone who would much rather just shop unbothered by someone spooked by a mere portrait. " do you think i'm cursed now? like, is a spirit going to go home with me, just 'cause i made eye contact with 'em? "

he wasn't usually like this: outgoing, reaching towards the attention of neither strangers nor familiar faces, usually opting for the solace of an independent post-work drink. but, something about tonight, mixed with the allure of liquid courage seemed to spark something different within desmond. not to mention, he'd been privy to a first (maybe second?) date, all abysmally awkward, hurdling towards the inevitable dumpster fire — he just needed to recap with someone, hopefully another who also bore witness to a painful exchange. " did you hear that? " his head, ducked, shielding his lips behind the view of his glass, " something about meeting his family, or whatever. she didn't seem into that at all. yeesh, this is probably their last date. "

extended reading, continue here to read more about montana!

extended reading, continue here to read more about desmond!