Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[Text; Ember → Hazel?]: [it’s a nude, folks][Text; Ember → Hazel]: …That was not meant for you, Hazel. My deepest apologies but also I completely understand should you want to keep the picture.

Send “%” for a CURIOUS text.

Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text.

{ → Baker } these are DELICIOUS{ → Baker } how did you make them

Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

{ → Baker } and then later will are you even listening why do I{ → Baker } hazelnut did you know that phones can listen to what you’re saying and then send messages to people{ → Baker } please disregard the above

Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text.

Sorrel: hey

Sorrel: headed out of town for a few days can u look after sprucifer?

Onyx didn’t normally linger at his tables when the nightly affairs were done with and the neon flashing lights had all gone and dimmed; when everything was put back in order for the next morning, his presence quickly became a phantom trace. Sometimes, however, he lingered. Sometimes it was to pick at the leftovers from the kitchen before they got thrown out and others it was to catch any details of gossip. There was plenty of that to be had, the rumour mill never ran dry like the casino never lost any money but exponentially gained. The casino took on an entirely different feel when it was just him and other employees; the building’s size engulfed them, made him feel like an ant when normally he carried the confidence of sole supreme god. 

Tonight, in the early morning hours of what would be a graveyard shift, Onyx was sat on one of his poker tables with his head down focused on his phone screen. He stopped by the kitchen earlier to ask if he could have a meal before they all left and he sat, in the main area, waiting for it. He wasn’t so familiar with the people that worked the kitchen though their paths did cross on occasion. 

The casino was warm too, its earth tones deceptively inviting; it brought a particular comfort to Onyx as it seemed to do for other Seelie, but for others — like their guests — it was simply a romantic or easygoing atmosphere. For patrons, dimness meant the assurance of privacy, meant that they could go slower and take their time deliberating as they enjoyed the evening becoming increasingly intoxicated and hotblooded from winning streaks and competition. But when the doors were locked and closed, and the money was put away, the casino took on a cooler appearance — almost unwanted despite the soft cushions and wooden furniture. The kitchen was coldest — its lighting starkly blue and hospital bright, walls sterile white, utensils iron and silver. The kitchen was a hub of light, it was a direction Onyx glimpsed back at while he waited.

Food in exchange for poker lessons. That had been the deal and it was an easy to make. “I know I am the best one here but that better not mean you’re chickening out on me.”

When: Apr 09, 2018

Where: Atlas 04C

Who: @hazyhazel

He’d stared at the screen for far too long, tiny little words seared into his brain. Read: 7:02 pm. It felt like a punch to his gut seeing their conversation end so abruptly, but then again, he had never been good at sharing her.

Sorrel texted the first person he thought of who could distract him from his own destructive thoughts. He’d considered drinking his night away but there would be no one to go home to come morning. No one to nurse his hangover, tell him he was an idiot for living the way he did.

So he found himself outside 04C, tapping at Hazel’s door with three sharp knocks. “Hey!” he said, surprised he was kind of happy to see her, never mind the circumstances. She had her trademark mile wide smile on as usual and it managed to draw one out of him too.

“I hope I’m not intruding? We can totally do this another time, no pressure.”

(For an honesty post on what my muse likes about yours.)

Camellia likes that Hazel is kind. She likes the way Hazel’s laugh sounds, and she loves her smile. There is an intense appreciation for the fact that they both find flowers lovely, even if Hazel’s Court is more accepting of such a love than Camellia’s.

She does not judge, even if Camellia was (is?) a bit confused about why Hazel was so nice to her. She likes that even if they cannot really be friends, they can at least sort of be secret pen pals. She’d probably love Hazel’s cooking if she ever tried it.

Camellia likes (or would like?) that she and Hazel could have been sort of Unseelie outcasts together, had Hazel been raised Unseelie. She would probably make flower crowns for Hazel in dog form, maybe. Camellia likes that Hazel’s hair would probably be perfect for braids and styling, and she likes that she senses a bravery in Hazel, a bit of Unseelie in some ways amongst the Seelie, despite in many ways, being incredibly Seelie. She’d like that Hazel was a bit of a part of her Court’s rebellion, even if Camellia would never admit that.

Sacrificial Bull: For an inner monologue my muse has about yours.

Hazel seems all sweet and innocent, but there’s definitely something there that isn’t so trustworthy. I know she’s just trying to protect Kaitlin and obviously I want Kaitlin to win, too - but Fidchell isn’t a game you can just walk into and understand. Hazel doesn’t understand - she never will. She’s going to get herself killed, and I don’t need to be responsible for that, too.

That being said, she’s the closest to knowing what it’s like to stand with one foot in the human world and another in the feyry world that you didn’t grow up in. I need someone who gets that just as much as anything else right now.