#& vidia

location: zeeeeeee wine bar

francis didn't usually like wine, he actually fucking despised it. it was dry, the flavors were always rough on his tongue, and the headaches ?? fuck. however, this whole thing was less about the wine itself and more about the snobby ambiance of it all... the privilege to be able to pay for a highly priced bottle he would never drink. it sure helped that the company he tended to keep there was more than favorable... especially when said company came in the form of a leggy brunette with a tongue sharp enough to split his ear dumbs if it wanted to. not that he'd let it.

surely enough, as francis swirled the contents of his glass around, mocking the poise of a sommelier like he actually gave a fuck about what he was drinking... he saw her walk in. francis had noticed her before she saw him, and when there eyes met, he could already feel the electricity buzzing in his finger tips. ❛ mademoiselle, ❜ he greeted vidia, though the title meant to be used respectfully was, instead, dripping in ulterior motive. ❛— what an absolute shock it is to see you here. ❜

oh, fucking EASY.

vanellope von whatever the fuck. she's mastered putting on this display of innocence and is notorious for pulling out the tiny violin more often than warranted, but she has no regard for anyone but herself. 100% can't be trusted as far as , proceed with caution... or, better yet, don't proceed at all.

hans westergaard. listen, i can admire the hustle. i can appreciate a good, tasteful, slut... but, besides his penis, what the fuck else does this kid have ?? unless you're looking to put a hotdog down your hallway and be a bed-sharer with every breathing being in evermore. AVOID.

mertle edmonds. this raging ball of fire is serving cunt in the worst way possible. i wish she would just go to jail and serve a sentence for forcing all of us to deal with her and her bullshit all the time. a good second runner up is vidia şahin. avoid both of them, honestly.

those weird little triplets. it's like if thing one and thing two from the cat and the hat decided to do a bunch of shrooms and never come down from the high, making everyone within a hundred mile radius violently uncomfortable but unable to say anything because it would look like the equivalent to punching a kid in the face.

honestly, at this point, just avoid everyone.

james was occupying himself, as one with no job or real adult responsibilities does, by throwing a small rubber ball against a brick wall at the park. he was sat in the grass, his phone playing dominic fike at full blast, singing along to the words under his breath. he truly did look like your typical douchebag right now; sporting an unbuttoned light print shirt, a bandana around his neck, jean shorts and... in typical james fashion, no shoes. he had a beer open next to him, a couple empty ones beside it, and was thoroughly enjoying his degenerate afternoon before a shadow came from behind him, blocking his sun. catching the ball, tilting his head back, he grinned at the individual standing there, though he was not nearly as delighted to see her as he appeared. "oh hey, whaddya know, my favorite person in the whole world!" he turned his attention back to the wall, throwing the ball at it again, a little bit harder this time. "to what do i owe the absolute pleasure, vidia? because honestly? i was really having a miserable time out here all by myself, enjoying the sun and the peace and quiet of the outdoors... so i'm really grateful you decided to come around to ruin that for me. im charmed, actually. i feel like i should get on my hands and knees to worship someone willing to do something so charitable for a lowly individual like myself."

location: some lame party that's dying down