#nocturnitat

The Sun shines down on the pavement from another clear blue sky as Jill and Lily meet for lunch at one of the outdoor tables at Hinano Café. On the Boardwalk people bustle about moving to and fro, and a light breeze tousles Jill's hair as she engages her companion. Jill generally makes a point to avoid industry folk. It's hard to, of course, living in Los Angeles, but it's a world she'd rather not get involved with unless she has to. Lily is a friend though: They share the same sort of background, their personalities and sense of style are similar, and she's always fun to be around. Lily produces and hosts her own paranormal/true crime adventure show, and as such has something of a wild streak Jill can respect and relate to. This also means they rub shoulders more often than might be assumed, and Jill will often come to Lily as a sort of unofficial informant. Lily's even filmed a few cases Jill's been on. Today's just a girls' day out, but Lily has a zeal and passion for her work even Jill can't keep up with, and she frequently can't help herself gushing about the latest unsolved mystery she's stumbled upon. It's endearing, but also occasionally strikes the trained operative as little awkward. Today, apparently, is going to be one of those times.

Jill stares at Lily for a moment. Her level of enthusiasm at the news of a new missing persons case is perhaps slightly more gleeful than would be considered appropriate or desirable, but she reminds herself this is who Lily is. At least she loves her job: Would that everyone would be so happy. Jill also mentally asks herself why Lily could possibly think she'd find out about a case before S.T.A.R.S. did, but doesn't pursue the matter. She has her connections, and is probably just excited to talk about it. Again. Lily is Lily. "Uh...Yeah," Jill begins cautiously, gathering herself. "The one reported missing in the Valley, right? We just got the case file in this morning."

Couldn’t resist doing it over here either!!! Slashes mean sometimes, crosses are always 💕

obligatory reblog.

obligatory reblog.

his pleased, agreeing hum tempers the warmth of his quick smile. although it disappears from his lips, it remains in his countenance.

obligatory reblog.

pink-rimmed eyes and a flushed, damp nose-tip are telltale signs that she's been crying. she wishes primrose hadn't seen it. seen her. she wants to hide her face, or scream, but she doesn't want to scare her off.

there's an unspoken solidarity between young girls in the woods. she wonders if she's hiding from stuff like her uncle dying and her big sister not being her friend anymore, just like she is.

☎️ 𝙶𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙱𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃? || ❤️❔ || @nocturnitat

☎️ 𝙶𝙷𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙱𝚄𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂, 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃 𝙳𝙾 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚆𝙰𝙽𝚃? || ❛ holy fucking shit. just. holy shit. what the fuck. ❜ - Adam!!! || @nocturnitat

❝ ...An understandable reaction. ❞

SPOKEN IN HIS TYPICAL MANNER, OBSERVING THE RIDDLED PANIC ON THE OTHER MAN'S FACE WITH COMPLETE STOICISM. In his hands, two steaming mugs of coffee - a extension of his arm serving to offer one of them to his companion, silence beginning to settle for the time being.

THE TOPIC OF ADAM'S TERROR? Slimer, the Firehouse's resident apparition, secured in his glass containment chamber (for once, given his ever-frustrating ability to escape, even if he never tended to venture much further than the second-floor refrigerator), his teeth sinking into a rubber duck of all things - Ray had recently decided to try and garner the scope of his appetite by dropping random items into the unit to see if he'd actually try to eat them. The result? Every single object had vanished without a trace. Hm. Not entirely surprising, on his own part.