Sydney Wolfe

“You want–” The giant pepper grinder? Stuffed full of pasta and getting lost on his way to the bathroom, Lucas had to wonder if he’d missed out by sticking with water when he caught a whiff of the other’s boozy breath as she swayed closer. Whatever chance of disappointment he could’ve felt was there and gone in an instant, though, eyes quick to light up. “Hell yeah,” he answered eagerly, spinning on his heel to stare at the winding branches that loomed from the center of the patio. It made him think of Swiss Family Robinson, which didn’t seem all that ominous. “How can you have proof of a curse?” Lucas asked, arms crossing over his chest in consideration. “Did you like, try to climb it one time and totally wiped out?” Seeing some gnarly scars was always cool, even if it wasn’t a detailed outline of hexing.

Kid Bloom played in the background and it really got her grooving, pepper shaker an object of supply and it’s own musical instrument, Sydney’s shoulder’s moved to the funky beat when the guy in front of her wanted details, “No climbing, I just tried to carve initial’s in. Being romantic and all because I am. And every time since I’ve been here, I break a heel. Bleed, Lose sanity. See. A vendetta. Has to be. Proofs right here. It’s me. Hang out with me for a half hour, save me from being stood up and you’ll see. You’ll get a bloody nose, your bank account will drain, I don’t know. It’s so random.”  Explanation was cheap but, proof was in the pudding, also she didn’t want to be alone. It was awkward. 

“Oh, sure. Here you go,” Hope said, passing over the napkins from her table to the other girl’s, that didn’t have any. She’d come here for a job interview and was left seated here as hirer had poofed suddenly, somewhere. “Oh no, did you bump into it?” Her eyes went to the tree. “That looks like it’d be painful.”

“Nooo, it bumped into me.” She said lowly, dabbing the napkin to her elbow where her own accident drew droplets of blood. “Okay. Really, sorry to mother nature. I ran into her tree. I lied.” Tackling those inner demons, and on a kick of confronting truths, even the most minor. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately. Lying. I don’t even know why.” Taking a go at the empty seat across from the blonde, crumpling one napkin for another to press against her arm, “Ooh, business?” Asking, when she lifted the manila folder in front of her face with her free hand. 

“Woah there,” George said, reaching out to grab Sydney as she stumbled a little, catching her by the arm and steading her, making sure the blonde was on two feet before letting go. “How much did you have to drink before I got here?” she asked teasingly, one eyebrow arching up. “But yes. Yes, I very much want to see proof.” 

She stopped, paused. Gathered herself when George commented. Not wrong, nope. A small attempt of reforming her own savageness that was showing. That small reminder that she was never good at hiding it stung. Soon enough dropping her shoulders and breaking a smile out, “Only a little, like, just a barrel full. Nothing you can’t catch up to.” 

image by: 

~Sadie Scott~

This wasn’t her forte. Claire was way better with celebrities, with the marketing. But as it would have, Sydney was the one to show up at the Aspen’s residence. A quick hit and little nip in the car and she was on her feet. Enthusiastic as she assumed she should be. “Hi! So sorry I’m a little late, there was a dog...it’s a whole thing. Um, so hi. Yes. I’m Sydney. Co-founder. Claire couldn’t be here so you get me. I’m sorry. In advance.” 

@theaspenbarris​

Hearing her reply, Logan couldn’t help but chuckle as he shook his head. “No, no Shaman.. sorry to disappoint you!”, he stated with a wide grin that only faded just a little when she seemed to recognise him somehow. Eying her a little more closely, the male finally realised where he had seen her before though. “You walked into me that other night!”, he stated, remembering it pretty well since usually there weren’t that many people around by the time he left the office.

She shrugged off the not-so-nuclear reveal he wasn’t in fact a Shaman. From one heel to the other when he gave her a once over, the security she felt for a second vulnerable. “I walked into you?” She then stood straight, confusion on her face, trying to put fragmented pieces into place. “You sure you didn’t walk into me?—oh....” It clicked, no matter how many glasses of red wine eventually it always clicked, “Oh wow, yeah, I did. You’re not stalking me are you?” Teasing at the idea but shit, never know these days. Their last bump in nothing like a comfort. 

Looking up from the beer in front of him, Logan glanced around with a frown before finally giving the woman a questioning look, not really sure what she meant. “I….”, he only started before being even more confused when she went on. That woman definitely seemed to be pretty drunk but it actually was some kind of amusing as well. “Nahh, didn’t know that! You’re lucky you’ve got a lawyer sitting in front of you though, so.. always happy to look at some proof!”, he stated with a grin.

“A lawyer?” Scoffing, Sydney took a step back and sized up who was speaking, “Now if you said you were a Shaman we could talk. Hey,” securing said object tightly in her hands, she leaned back on heeled feet, eye’s narrowing at the man in front of her, “—do I know you? I know you, why do I know you?” 

“Oh, you might have a point there,” she mused as she quickly added a note about mirrors into her phone. Not being an actual interior designer by trade, she could use any advice she could get, especially if it was free. “Art is meant to be subjective. It may be blobs of nothingness to you, but maybe your girlfriend saw it and thought it was the greatest piece of art she’s ever seen. Or maybe it just looked great with whatever color scheme you have going on.” Growing up with two very pretentious artists as parents, Eris had seen it all. Every paint stroke or blotch had to mean something, whether or not she actually understood what that something was. Her eyes lit up as she heard the words make it work. “You used the immortal words of Tim Gunn, so I’m going to trust you on this one. I’m going to bite the bullet and do it. I mean, it can’t be all that bad if I don’t like it in the end, right? It’s just white. I can always add some color if necessary,” she decided with a careless shrug.

“And you have a point there. But when you’re sharing a space the subjective part needs to maybe co-habitate.” Sydney expressed with humor to her voice, her two hands coming together making one entanglement. “Now you’re speaking my language.” She joked at the Tim Gunn reference, though it wasn’t a joke, more a every Thursday night Bravo Nielsen rating grabber all four years in the Delta Gamma house. “Pull the Gunn’s trigger. If you feel even slightly off, play with your settings. Move the furniture around. Yes, maybe even add those mirrors,” she teased at that one, “You have a lot of options.” 

Nell tried to hide the amused smile and suppressed a laugh that had caught in her throat as she watched her attempt to fix-up her lipstick. Doing her best to appear serious, she placed one hand over her heart and the raised the other, as if she was swearing in. “You can trust me completely,” she promised. She had every intention of listening to the supposed vendetta, but she got lost in the story. Fire and machetes? “You have…sap? Like, tree sap? In your bag?” A dumbfounded look in her eyes as she asked for further clarity. “Did I just get cursed?” She questioned, giving her a side-eye.

She breathed in heavily and out equally so, so glad they were on the same page and this stranger seemed to completely get it. “Yep, tree sap, sap.” She got off the counter then after some water pooling near her rear seeped through, “I’m really hoping you didn’t. You seem nice, but, it’s happened before. At least five times. Nothing malevolent or anything, just, tree sap kind of occurrences.” 

Judging by her reaction, the other hadn’t really expected to walk into someone else this late at night. And he probably couldn’t blame her for that. Hearing what she said though, the male couldn’t help but grin a little as he held his hands up in defence. “Hey, just standing here! Nothing to worry about!”, he stated, still somehow amused, “Even though you probably still shouldn’t walk around all alone this late…”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right...” of course he was right, by all societal terms. Herself having a fair amount of questionable run-ins in the past that lingered in the back of her mind on occasion. Didn’t really matter when there was a friendly face presented or otherwise, “You just startled me is all.” Telling him now her truth, when in reality she was now, officially, on edge. “My cars right there. My friend’s got a pin drop and all that, so, it’s not like I’m not off the grid or anything.”  

Nell’s head spun around to face the voice that she could only assume was talking to her. “What—” before she could even get out the word thing, the blonde was reaching for whatever it was that she had her eye on. “Never mind, I guess,” she responded with a light laugh. It was pretty clear that she had been at least a tiny bit intoxicated, and it left Nell feeling amused. Raising a curious brow, she looked at the tree and then back to the blonde. “Are you fighting with a tree? How does that even work?”

“It works like this, like this.” a smile spreading because she caught herself reapplying her own lipstick with a wobbly touch, stiffening her stance, “Can I trust you?” A slight slur to her own words and an attempt at her own eyebrow raise before pulling herself on the counter top to swing bare legs and get a close up appliance of her lipstick. “There was a fire. Let me just begin there. A really small one too. But there was a lot of feelings and people with machetes or a machete who went hay wire. Anyways, there’s a lot of energy stuff going on since. I’ll show you my bag tonight, it’s full of sap. I’ve gotten rid of a bunch since so just, watch out. Okay. Since you’ve come in contact with me here, it’s a whole thing...” 

Eris furrowed her brows. How could she not know what an Instagram-feel meant? “You know, like the kind of bedroom all those pretty, white influencers have. Where they conveniently have a gigantic mirror in front of their bed, so you can catch a glimpse of how clean and cute their bedroom is,” she clarified with an unintentionally condescending smile. “Which, now that I’m thinking about it, sounds a little creepy. Why would anyone have a mirror facing their bed? Are they really that narcissistic that they need to watch themselves as they go to sleep or have sex? Hence the asshole part,” she added so her short ramble made sense to the conversation. She had always been one to say her thoughts out loud, which could get her into trouble. “Your girlfriend sounds like she has good taste. Is she here, too? Maybe I can ask her opinion as well,” her eyes scanned the room for her possible girlfriend, not that she would have any idea what she looked like. “Honestly, I can count the number of times I’ve been to Target on one hand. How sad is that? I’ve heard it’s a goldmine of things that I don’t need but will inevitably buy anyway. Maybe I should go there and see what I manage to find. Look at that. I knew when I saw you, you seemed like the type of person to help inspiration strike,” she couldn’t help but flatter her with a bright smile. “But what if I don’t like the end result? The last thing that I want is to have to start over. I mean, white is a classic, but is it overdone?”

She had her instagram, mostly a prettier facebook she’d abandoned a couple months ago. Mostly to keep up with her college friends lives she didn’t text with regularly. It was work related connections and business too and all separate accounts sure but she’s hardly expected the example to mean anything but the color scheme of this other persons walls. “I have no clue about white influencers and their aesthetics,  the mirrors though, I can guess make a room look a lot bigger than it actually is.” She didn’t know but there was always tricks to every trade, laughing though at the other woman’s counter with the creep analysis. “No she’s not here and if you saw it you’d think otherwise. It’s an actual blob of nothingness on the living room wall. Line’s don’t exist. Everyone asks.” It was true, she of course didn’t have photographic evidence of what she meant though, so it was what it was and made her laugh all the same. “Uh, then you’re screwed. I don’t know, if you don’t want to redo it. Deal with what you’ve got. You make it work.” 

Time: 7 PM - 

Starter: Open @slchat​

“Can you pass me—” that thing? The rest of her sentence was assumed point being taken, she wasn’t angry, not at all. Just drunk. A little stumble into the person next to her and she was picking that object up before they could even see what she was going for, “You know that tree they have going has a vendetta? It’s cursed. I have proof. Wanna see?”