#isla1

They were more comfortable than hand-cuffs she’d ever worn before, without a doubt. She admired the frills and fluffiness of the pink fabric that wrapped around them, and now trapped their wrists.

“It’s fish-and-chip Friday, Isla. Really, there are worse things we could be pissed at than these.”

★  Going around exploring didn't really give new insight. 

All he knew was they were at a different place, possibly an entirely different world. He sat on the seat of his bike, having parked it near a store, his arms draped over the handles and his face leaning on them. 

Well? Now what?

A soft tinkle of bells caught his attention. He raised his head, and was greeted by the sight of a walking pile of parcels... wait. A person carrying a bunch of parcels. He looked on absent-mindedly for a few moments, before standing up, approaching the person. 

Might as well help out, right?

      "Hey! Uh, need some help there?"

{ islaseong }

Kasiya didn’t consider himself to be any more or less patriotic than the next guy, but Fourth of July events in Cloverbrook had been a favorite tradition of his ever since he could remember. His parents, sisters, and nieces all got together to celebrate and catch up, laying thick blankets down on the grass and toting coolers and lawn chairs along with them. On top of that, the entire day was a unique sensory-experience. He could smell hot dogs being cooked and foamy beer and the grass kicked up by children’s running feet, all while sounds of bellowing laughter and movie soundtracks trailed through his ears. And, oh, the fireworks. They were something else. He often thought about how the stars were slowly becoming less and less visible to him each time the night came around, inching towards fading into pale flecks that he could just make out if he looked at them right. One day they’d be gone, but, for now, watching such grandiose displays of color in the sky made him feel a little less afraid of a future without stars.

He had been at the radio booth almost all day, taking short breaks to eat or to say hi to a friend if they strolled by. It was a good place for him to be-- he could play music and get to know other residents all from the cool, shaded space inside the booth. Stevie appreciated it, too, no doubt, as she didn’t have to worry so much about navigating through the party crowd. The golden retriever simply took long naps at Kasiya’s feet, content to be out of the sun. When the sun hinted that it would set soon, however, Kas handed the mic over to one of the station interns who had tagged along to help him out, and slipped out of the booth with Stevie by his side. He was ready to take a longer break now, mostly so that he could find his family somewhere on the grass and spend time with them. His nieces were finally old enough to really appreciate the goings-on. 

The energy in the crowd was palpable as Kas made his way through, frequently offering up polite mutterings of “excuse me” and trying to navigate his way to his family. Stevie was surprisingly at-ease, despite the stress of helping her owner avoid being trampled. Kasiya smirked a little at the dog and continued their trek. He knew the area well, but it was always so different once it was covered in people-- needless to say, a few wrong turns were definitely taken. Finally, he reached a more secluded area by the trees so he could get his bearings, and practically stumbled right into another body as he surveyed the area. 

“Oh, man,” he said, arms out to steady himself. “I’m really sorry about that. Are you--” He stopped short when he realized who he had, quite literally, bumped into. Blurry vision or not, he would always be able to recognize her. Her hair, her posture, everything. The image of the woman before him was one that had been pressed into his memory time and time again, and yet, he couldn’t think of what to say. It had been too long; the words were all gone by now. 

“Isla,” was all he managed as his mind raced to catch up with what he was seeing.

There was a time in every young boy’s life where he would eventually meet the girl of his dreams. Fortunately for Emizel, this particular girl was completely fiction and came from a nightmare. He stared up at the poster taped up on the billiard, staring directly into the idol’s bright photo manipulated eyes. Just the sight was enough to annoy him. She looked just like a dark hero wannabe. Without pause, he tore the thing down, not looking to check if anyone was around.