#ehqstarter

It was a fortuitous thing that Orlaith subsisted primarily on takeout and never filled her freezer with anything but the occasional bottle of vodka, because she had sent someone out for ice and they had returned with so many bags - for what purpose she couldn’t be sure - she would never have been able to fit them in if she’d had actual food in there. The party had been impromptu and accidental. In fact, Orlaith wasn’t sure how it had escalated so much, but she thought it might have something to do with the claustrophobia of Treaty Towers; if a door was open and there appeared to be music and alcohol inside, people took it as fair game. The nurses’ social it had been her turn to host had become a lot more than a nurses’ social. 

“Someone brought, like, ten bags of ice,” Orlaith explained at the cobbled together vodka snowcone station she was standing at. Thank god she’d had an ice shaver and a lot of vodka. The syrups had been won in a raffle at work and she’d never opened them. “I was a bit afraid to ask why they thought we might need that much, so I took them all no questions asked, but what am I meant to do with ten bags of ice? And so,” - she gestured at the set-up in front of her, smile wide, - “snowcones in November. Shame we’re not still having that heatwave. Anyway, do you want one?” 

He had practically been raised at the casino (his money sense, anyway) and so, Zyrynd liked to frequent the location as often as he could. See, the thing a lot of people assumed about being a business owner was that it was time consuming. It could be, of course, but not if you were successful, because once you were successful, you were able to hire other people to do all the work you used to do and it was exactly what Zyrynd did, leaving free time to his other pursuits. 

“I would fold if I were you,” he told one of the players at the poker table. It wasn’t even that he knew what the other players had, but Zyrynd had always been good at picking up on tells. The way people’s nose’s wiggled or their eyebrows quirked up a millimeter when they had good hands. Those that even held tightly composed expressions, always had some minor twitch they couldn’t control. Perk of the lip, twitch of the pinky. People might assume he was counting cards, but really he was just that good. It probably helped that some people got jittery around banshees and let themselves slip up, too. 

Lys felt as though they’d been circling this portion of the city for ages, realistically, it had probably only been an hour. Though they weren’t entirely sure what they were looking for either. It would have made the entire trip easier if they could have simply walked up to someone and asked. Even though, if they did have any ideas it’s not as though they really had the money to afford it. But none of that really mattered because Lys was sure when he saw it, he’d know. Surely they’d know, it would speak to them. Or call to them. “Or..something...” He muttered to himself as slid past a couple who had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“It’s actually BYOB. I’m interested in knowing where you heard otherwise.” It was all jokes as she pushed the bottle’s nozzle further into the plastic cup, causing the pour to be rather heavy handed. Dusty’s palm went to rest at her waist, e-cig hanging from painted lips. The rebellious nature of throwing an impromptu kick back behind your apartment wasn’t really side-eyed when your twin was missing, presumably dead. Dusty could get away with it for now, her playlist drowning out any impending silence. She’d given enough back to this community. The very least they could let her do was blare rock music and shoot vodka.

The harder she pedaled, the cooler the windbreak felt again her sticky skin. She’d decided days ago to exist in the sweat -- fighting it with showers and changing t-shirts a dozen times wasn’t going to help. Neither was sitting inside of her cabin, which had never seen A/C in its lifetime and likely would never. Elba relied on her bicycle and making her own breeze, because a needed one wasn’t coming soon enough.

“Watch it!” a passerby hissed as Elba stood on her pedals, to catch view of the crosswalk and if she’d make it on time. Obsidian City-folk weren’t the ones to make kind small talk. Elba didn’t really mind it, though. I mean, sure, being shouted at by strangers was never ideal, but she never had to wonder what anyone was really thinking. Some days, that one fact would come as comfort.

She was always more aware of what was happening than anybody else. If she didn’t exist in a constant state of worry, she would’ve been hit by the black town car that rounded the corner without a care in the world for pedestrians. Elba tried her best to halt gracefully, but her bike went one way, while she flew the other. There wasn’t a second wasted tending to her cuts or embarrassment, she only ran for the periwinkle bike and hustled towards the nearest alleyway. Away from everyone, she hoped. She didn’t care that her hands burned raw, not when her bicycle’s chain hung broken in half, front tire bent.

Care about people other than yourself! Elba yearned to shout after the car, but as always, the moment had already passed by the time she was ready to put her foot down.

Elisa stood curiously off by the cordoned area by Blacksand Beach. She couldn’t help the morbid curiosity when she had seen the tweet come through. She doubted she would really get to find out much, but maybe, just maybe if she could get close enough she could overhear something. Maybe if she were in the water, even. That might let her get close enough to the shore. Her eyes scanned the perimeter to see if there was a way for her to even get into the water from the beach.

She felt like she wasn’t alone, and even had it confirmed as she saw a shadow looming and moving, causing her to jump and turn around suddenly. “Oh my god! You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that!” she hissed. 

Orph took a deep breath. He’d been running for miles away from the city, away from the people. Like if he’d only let his legs push him far enough it could get him away from everyone and everything. It would make the anxieties plaguing his mind be quiet for a few blissful moments. But so far it hadn’t. Everything in his head was still swimming. Still screaming. Everything was still so fucking overwhelming. He had to keep running, keep pushing.  ‘Keep going. Keep going. Don’t Stop.’ He told himself softly. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop. The only thought he clung to.

After another five miles into the trees, he doubled over trying desperately to regulate his breathing again. It still didn’t feel like he was far enough out, but as strong as he may be now he couldn’t keep going. God help him he wanted to keep going. It had been a bit over a year already, he’d been in the city for months now. When was it going to feel normal? Or would it ever feel normal? Orph was lost in his own thoughts as his breathing slowed again. 

Snap.

He froze, eyes shifting around the trees looking for the source of the sound. Whoever, or whatever, it was they could be the first to show themselves. As far away as he may be at this point, it certainly wasn’t far enough to let his guard down.  

Xireli didn’t look like she belonged anywhere near Bloodhearth yet alone at a place like the fight club. She looked like she belonged in some upscale bar in the city sipping on martinis with her pinky out. However, that was the thing, looks could be deceiving and for Xireli, she certainly fell under that category, especially as she entered, the excitement buzzing among those there as a fight was ongoing. She surely stood out among the rough and rugged crowd.

“I always hope someone will get their head ripped off and yet they never do,” she said casually. It might have almost been taken as a joke for those that didn’t know her. “I remember when we let wild animals consume people for fun.”