#providence.starter

What had started out as a walk to the park with Brock had turned into a full day adventure. Leila's motivation for work had been completely sapped, something she had no idea how to deal with. Rather than confronting and dealing with her emotions, Leila instead had put every inch of her attention into her dog. After playing with some of the other dogs, Brock had settled in for a nap, Leila curled up with him under a tree. Head resting against Brock's stomach, Leila was flopped over, piloting her drone around the park to keep herself occupied. Jetting it around in circles, Leila attempted to swerve it underneath a tree branch, sending the drone spiraling out right into the path of an unfortunate bystander. "Oh! Sorry, it - the drone. Sorry," she called out, reluctantly getting up from her comfortable spot to retrieve her drone.

Foster wasn't the same person he'd been 12 years ago when he'd last stood on Colorado soil. In a lot of ways he was glad for that fact, but that, angry, sad kid still lingered somewhere inside him. He'd never done well standing still, and the fact that he was doing it here of all places made him want to act out in a way he hadn't in years, like an infant throwing a temper tantrum because they had no other way of expressing themselves. His palms itched, and he wondered if stealing a pack of cigarettes would help the way it used to. He considered trying it, but the idea of being caught shoplifting as a thirty year old man was pathetic in a way he couldn't quite stomach.

So he found other ways of occupying himself — preferably the kinds that supplied alcohol to calm his constant nerves... And he tried his hardest not to draw attention to himself. "Sorry," he said with a sheepish smile. "I think you might have the wrong person."

character: open to all / @providencepeakstarters

Since becoming a mother, Dalila hadn't had any time to go to things like parties so when she was invited a party for just delivering some desserts she'd made for this party at a fancy schmancy house up in Summit Lake, how could she say no? Donning a little black dress, she sorted out putting the desserts out and just like the drunken host had demanded, she went to go and get a drink and to 'enjoy herself and have a night off'. Now she was stood with a drink in her hand, scanning the room for literally anyone she knew to try and ease the small pit of anxiety building in her stomach. The second she decided to try a different room to find anyone she knew, she bumped in to someone with a narrow catch on her own drink to stop any spilling on the other. "Oh, that was a close one!" She jokingly laughed to avoid it being any kind of drama. "Are you okay? I didn't step on your foot or anything did I?"

for: @providencepeakstarters

"Hey, kind of weird and very awkward question but could you get this for me? I'm good for it, I swear. I'll get it right back to ya," Reggie explains, hearing as he spoke how he sounded exactly like someone who was the exact opposite. In a rush and in a usual haze of thoughtlessness, he had assumed his wallet was in the jacket he was wearing only to discover that wasn't the case as he was one person away from the register.

He's aware that his request is cheeky, and he hopes elaborating might make it less so.

Asher was out of town, Sage was dead to her, and Yas had a full two days off work. It was the perfect storm of things to leave her itching to do something reckless. For Yasemin Dogan, even a night of "recklessness" was a relatively tame affair. She'd gotten dressed up to the nines looking as stunning as possible and showed up at Holy Spirits with every intention of getting herself into a whirlwind of drama. Instead, she'd had a few fruity drinks, danced with a few strangers that bought her more fruity drinks, and then plopped down at the bar once the world started to spin. Her forehead was firmly flopped down against the bar top, a groan leaving her lips. This was not at all the night of debauchery she'd anticipated, even if it was exactly what she probably should have expected from herself. Sensing someone coming up and sitting in the seat next to her, Yas let her head shift slightly to the side, one eye peeking out from the dark cavern she'd created with her arms. "Sorry. I'm okay. I can get out of your way. In a minute. When the world stops spinning," she chattered, the alcohol in her system making her words coming out quick and ever so slightly slurred.

"I'll be right with you,” Fletcher calls to few folks he catches by the bar while he is taking a quick count of the bottles behind the bar.

His employment at Crane Bros. Distillery had been very different from his past bartending experience in Philadelphia, but Fletch has found that he fit right into the role. The customers are great, and even if one of his bosses feels a bit off kilter, he really has no complaints. He gets to meet new people, and his bills are paid.

He finishes scratching numbers down on the server pad and then stands to greet the patron. “What brings you by today? We have a drink menu, or are you in for a tasting?”

The pair next to him were being loud. Not to the point where it would be considered obnoxious, but just enough that Roman long gave up attempting to actually read his book, pretending to glance at the pages every now and again as he drank in their mindless chatter and gossip. Which actually, was quite interesting — in the same way soap operas were interesting once you got yourself sucked into it — eagerly awaiting the next part of the story when someone came over to him. "One moment," He requested to the stranger. "I need to know what happened Tuesday, or I'm afraid it'll keep me up all bloody night. Feel free to join and listen in, if you'd like."