sat side by side in the living room of their trailer home are two of their prized possesions: an oldie radio tuned to 107.5 black dragon pearl and a record player. at any given time, day or night, home or away, one will be on. there's something about the constant noise filtering through the small collection of rooms that makes living alone a little less lonely.
voluntarily on a specific call list for activists, and often on the front lines. perhaps surprisingly for the 5'3'' figure, sadie is quite the little athlete and avid to go charging into the most raucous of riots in order to protect their fellow protestors β catching flares or gas canisters, and dragging away comrades should they fall under police boot.
when sadie announced moving away for college ( and whether that was the true reason or not at the time ), her father was kind enough to pass over the keys belonging to a brown 1971 dodge coronet. it had been a project of his that he felt was time to have a new owner. it is sadie's baby, self-taught how to care for it and repair. call her an amateur mechanic, she'd love it.
a jack-of-all-trades amateur following the car, sadie also enjoys cooking. and it's a whole ordeal, the perfect depiction of how spaghetti can become a whole affair. the sauce splatters, the multiple utensils piling up in the dinky sink, making enough for a large family. at least the effort to combat cockroaches is there in cleaning up the mess, though by no means are they a tidy person.
big on cycling through hair colours. the style remains relatively the same, with the only difference in the length of the shagged bob framing their face. otherwise, given the season, the bleached blonde becomes auburn-red, and when she becomes convinced her roots actually look pretty, will delve into the natural chocolate of their hair.
past.
comes from a perfectly adjusted family. an unexpected gift seven years after her older brother, sam. their parents are an accountant father and a florist mother, who are... nice. that's just it. they're nice, her brother is sweet but distant, and sadie is bored. there's not even any friction in their daughter becoming an anarchist to liven up their suburban seattle home. when sadie was first arrested for participating in a protest against big oil, her dad patted her shoulder and her mother smiled pleasantly when they collected her.
grades were acceptable, their friend group outsiders but hardly trouble-makers, and music was becoming the most exciting thing in sadie's life. it was harder then to travel around, so garage concerts were her bread and butter. at one such event, in a dark and damp little basement, they were elbowed in the mouth by a drunken reveler that knocked out her right lateral incisor. sadie thought it would be cool to have the gap. her parents happily had a fake one implanted. still a cool story.
between the constant influx of music and all its genres that captivated her, attending as many shows as she could and planned to in the future; it was kismet that her brother gifted her one day after his first big paycheck as a paralegal with an ebony and ivory gibson guitar and a stack of manuals. practicing took up all her time and effort, which ironically was the reason she started smoking β as an appetite suppressant so that she could keep idolizing her band heroes and try to live up to their glamour.
the one great trauma of her life ( so far... ), came at a concert she tagged along to with a friend, the friend's older sibling, and some friends in san francisco. there, fighting her way to the venue bathrooms, sadie came across a person draped over a toilet while people laughed about the "wrecked" state. it only took a glance to realize this person was in dire straits. even as sadie begged for medical attention, it had only been her that resuscitated the partier from a nearly-lethal concoction of opiates and alcohol. they pulled through. and sadie added big pharma to her list of oppressors to scream in the face of.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
Her soft grin brightening into a full beaming smile at Sadie's enthusiastic reaction to the boots, Valerie handed one of the platforms over to her friend, turning the other one over in her hands and inspecting its details more closely. Even the titanium zipper at the side had a small heart stamped into the metal, a delightful find. The blonde had an eye for picking out the most unique things when she went shopping, even if it was paired with little to no consideration for how she'd actually incorporate it into her existing wardrobe. "They do look pretty sturdy and versatile. Like you could dress them up or down depending on the outfit you wear them with," she mused, extending both boots out towards them. "If ya like 'em so much, then why don't you get 'em for yourself? I think they'd be a super cute accent piece for your more glam outfits. Very rockstar vibes," the performer gushed with a conspiratorial raised eyebrow. Though the two presented very different styles, distinct on polar opposite sides of the spectrum, with their shared love of vintage-inspired pieces, there was always some overlap in their taste. "Besides, I've got more boots in my closet than I know what to do with."
Humming thoughtfully at their approach to shopping, Val agreed, "Same here. Usually when I go out lookin' for something specific, I find everything but the thing I'm lookin' for. Best to just let the universe do its thing, ya know?" she reasoned with an easy shrug. "You'll have to teach me how to do alterations someday. I can crochet with the best of 'em, but sewin' seems like a whole different beast. Besides, I don't know if I trust myself with needles that sharp just yet," the former starlet laughed. At the sound of their little game, her eyes widened with interest, a soft ooh slipping past her lips as she scanned the racks surrounding them. "Sounds fun, I like a challenge! Well then... how would you go about making something liiiiiike this into a Sadie original?" Valerie proudly presented them with a frilly yellow miniskirt, complete with a bows on each hip. It could easily pass for something that the circus performer might wear, but she couldn't really picture it on her more punk rock companion in its current state.
at the proffer of the boots, the student extended hands as though to accept the offer, fingers curling over the ankles. and then, she eased them toward valarie's chest, leaning in with a cheshire grin and a collusive tone to match. "you have to get 'em. you found 'em 'cause they called out to you. besides β who says i can't borrow 'em? y'know i call you up when i got an outfit in mind for a gig. you'd just treat these better than me tossin' 'em into the back of my closet." with that, they tapped a heart to seal the persuasion check. it would all be futile in the end if val deemed the price too extravagant, not that sadie would blame her. the budget on this shopping spree was criminally slim.
turning to appraise the lapel of the nearest top, the necessity of always having hands busy ( as if they weren't worn to the bone between the studying, the barista role, the electric strumming ), the punk nodded along before adding, "oh, it's easy! just takes some patience, is all. but it's kinda cool once you got the rhythm of the stitch. it really shouldn't be all that hard to translate from crocheting... but then again, i've never done that. hey! that sounds like a chill night idea!" the reaction would have been the same as if valerie had said they were going to tear up the town or bust it down at a club, giddy with the prospect of swapping activities to teach each other. the wide smile, dotted with one tooth less imperfect than its brethren, remained framed upon the young features as her friend scoured for a likely suspect of the game. taking the aforementioned article into her hands, they scrunched their face in thought, holding the hanger at different angles before them. and then, "permanent fabric dye. i think it'd be sick to splash some black dye, and then shred up the frills, like taking a fork and ripping it up to fray a bit. could even put a slit up to the waist on one side and then pop some fishnets on underneath. make the yellow the only accent colour since it's so vibrant, and voilΓ‘! wearin' it on stage, stainin' it with beer." it didn't go unnoticed that sadie kept the skirt in hand, gesturing with the other. "we can keep playin' this game, or you can tell me what else you've been up to?"
WHERE: halloween party, the garden
WHEN: before 11:30PM
WHO: sadie wicker ( @threshblood )
Kael's gaze was fixed on the back facade of the mansion. It was a huge and overbearing thing all in creams and beiges, a proper bland smudge of a building. A truly disgusting display of wealth. The party itself didn't bother him, as much as he'd heard other people complaining; spending so much on a single night's worth of decorations struck him as a bit excessive but at least it was being shared with the people. People had shown up to the party and were enjoying themselves. Local businesses had been hired to help put everything together. Who did a mansion serve besides the owner?
"Fuck these skeletons and monsters and things with pumpkin heads; you wanna know who the real monster here is?" said Kael, taking a long drag of a cigarette and glancing over his shoulder at Sadie. He spoke casually, the verbal equivalent of a shrug, and waggled a finger in the direction of the house, as though it weren't worth the energy it took to point. Nothing he was saying sounded deep or even clever. He didn't want, or need, it to. That's not what complaining was for. "The bourgeoise."
the crimson spandex covering ninety percent of sadie's body did little for the cold, though the hot chocolate was doing the best of tricks to combat the atmosphere. seeping through the thin costume gloves to warm chilled fingers. cupping it in both hands, she turned back to her bandmate as he regarded the exterior of the event. hopeful, gait a little wobbly from previous shots and fizzling halloween cocktails, they approached and peered over the mansion too. was there something they were missing? it looked like a normal, if albeit unfathomably large, residential structure. i mean, really β who needs that many rooms? was the odd thought that seemed to blend into kael's speech thereafter. at the mention, the trigger word, "bourgeoise," the anarchist grew grave.
"you're so right." the rasp of her distasteful tone was undermined by the sip of spice and whipped cream. smacking lips, "hella cool of 'em to turn out for a big party, but when a week-long blizzard is headed in, there's suddenly not enough shelters for the homeless." a noise of disgust came with a shrug of a shoulder to reseat the leather jacket joint. "so then β what's the plan? i mean, we can't leave after tonight without... i don't know... tossing all the shit out th'window of one of the closed off rooms. y'know, like true punk rockstars do at hotels when they go on tour. we're literally in costumes, we gotta take advantage of our covers!"
If it was offered, Benny had little use to throw in some sharp words. Little use and little energy, his head spinning from far too many whiskey and his hands shaking a little as he got a new cigarette from the lining of his pocket. Heβd promised to quit, he wasnβt sure who heβd promised, but it had been a promise. Now he was settling back into the addiction again, buying package after package and at times wondering how they emptied so quickly. His chaotic mind was trying to decide between nicking the lighter - since his own was ignored - and kissing the stranger, as they cupped the fire and lit the cigarette, instead soon as the end lit, he took a deep breath and leaned his full body against the car door. He felt suddenly exhausted.Β
βClear up my head?β Benny laughed. Smoking had never cleared up anything, just further blurred the edges. Though he thought about it and he concluded he had no plan what to do after this. Maybe sleep it off in his car. Drunk as he was, Benny once again opted the thought that if he went home, perhaps he could share his bed with someone. He wasnβt sure if it was kindness or a very obvious move to get into his pants. Not that he looked in any way enticing, but he had plenty of times where his one-time fuck was beaten and bloody and it had been all kinds of hot. He scoffed. βYeah, I ainβt driving like this, so you donβt gotta worry about that,β he said in good humour, looking the other over as he relaxed in his position. At least the shaking seemed to die down a bit, he could hold the cigarette and not feel the fear that he might set his pants on fire. He took another cigarette from his pocket and held it out to the stranger. βI ainβt a sissy who cries about his problems to others.β
it was placating, watching this person relax a little as soon as he got his first drag. it appeased the worry that he might decide he was fit enough to operate a vehicle, or become enraged in the way that unpredictable strangers have exhibited in the past so that sadie would regret her kindness and spend her evening bailing out of the very situation she got herself into. ( it's happened before. ) when he withdrew a companionable cigarette, there was no hesitance in the hand that took it with a nod of thanks, biting lips to hold the filter in place as she lit up with the practiced motion of one far too familiar with the habit.
"funny β it's always made the world a little clearer," sadie hummed, taking it from her mouth with a thumb and forefinger to release a plume of her own before bringing it back. "a simple pleasure, y'know?" and then, because as the love languages of touch and affirmation were wont to do, she reached across their space to slap a small hand with force to accommodate the size upon this bloodied figure's shoulder. "good man," they encouraged in a distant mirroring of their own father figure when he would compliment someone's well deed. "besides, if you thought you were busted now, can't imagine what losin' control of a car might do!" speaking as they both were with smoke curling between their teeth, the lil punk took their cigarette away to ash with a flick of the thumb onto some residual snow in the drainage lingering along the curb. "don't gotta be a sissy to feel things. we all do. and there's no judgment here. cross my heart." and it was punctuated with a lackadaisical 'x' motion of a brass ringed finger over where her heart was warmed by a long sleeved distressed shirt beneath the sherpa coat.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
halloween, winterwood estates, before 11:30pm
ft. @hevrtbrexkqueen
it was hard to pay attention to the comically miniature yoshi headdress when it felt like sadie's attention was always drawn to broad shoulders. it didn't help that the man in question stood a whole foot taller than her, making it difficult in the first place to crane the neck up to meet his eyes. idly, they wondered how the straps of his matching tiny shell backpack didn't burst off his frame as she reached upward to feed a piece of a spider ( cupcake ) to him, as previously and flirtatiously requested. only reason she even humoured the notion probably had something to do with the mop of hair reminiscent of mick jagger.
curious gaze drifted and landed on a familiar figure on the margin of the dining room; body language a bit tense, as though slightly uncomfortable. after a beat, sadie was quick to dismiss herself, brushing hands on costumed thighs to forfeit crumbs to the floor underfoot as she beelined for iris. the throng of partiers ( an unsurprising amount with the telltale bleary eyed, dopey smile of stoners ) assisted in the prank of navigating to a flanking position so that when sadie stepped closer, perhaps she could get a scare out of them by whispering, "lookin' for someone in particular?" all wolfish smile and suggestive brow.
halloween, winterwood estates, before 11:30pm
ft. @pcisxnivys
tequila was fucking delicious. at least, it was after a certain number of them that sadie had conveniently forgotten about and so she could take another. they clinked theirs with minimal spillage against one that very nearly recoiled, held aloft by dainty fingers, before atticus realized the purpose. okay, so sadie had been a bit of a pusher tonight. she did have her limits! and from the looks of the zombie crusher beside her at the railing of the grand staircase, she knew he had room for a couple more before an impending disaster could strike, and superboy would be there to prevent it.
"'ey," the gravel of their voice chirped as soon as they finished sucking down the burning remnants from their mouths. "how much will ya give me if i attempt my powers of flight?" said costume stuck like a second skin to her frame. though slight, and overcompensated by the gnarly genetics that gave the crest of cheekbones possible for the naturally gaunt look, it actually showcased a surprising amount of lean muscle. coupling that with a streak of recklessness and copious tequila, sadie could totally make a leap that would bound the entirety of the staircase and have her landing like the goddamn superhero that she was. the image was crystal clear in her brain β boots slapping the expensive flooring of the parlour and coming to stand at her full five foot four inches, all charisma at the settling of her sunglasses. triumphant.
halloween, winterwood estates, after 11:30pm
ft. @tea-rcses ( lara )
talk about a trip gone wrong.
it was sudden, like a snap of the fingers or the first uncoordinated strike of electrified strings. a shock to the senses, mildly sobering, when milling about the backyard among the ghoulish figures and intoxicated patrons cooling off unfavourably partnered with a series of accidents β begging at another time the true intentions. it was simply too premeditated to be a coincidence. and perhaps it was the bold vestments of one of the comic book heroes sadie gravitated toward on her personal roster, but she vowed internally and imminently at the aperture of the doors splitting open with the ferocity of hell's gates broken wide that she would figure out how someone could overstep the most obvious of boundaries.
what she could do β as leather lashed at the hips with the twists of one attempting to comprehend the playing cards slicing the night air and the boiling cauldron corroding all to the cries of their victims β was act. adrenaline injected like nitro to veins already slickened with alcohol, resistant to mob mentality as patrons scrambled in desperation to escape. some limb or joint knocked against her shoulder, but she remained steady, boot planted as they swallowed thickly. before an escape route could project her forward, a glittering sight took attention. lara. curiously halted upon the stonework porch mouthing the grassy yard, despite the partiers dashing about her lonesome form. darting forward, they caught lara by the elbow before she could topple where she stood.
"are you okay? what's happening?" sadie insisted, voice raised over the din. the circle of her superboy shades slipped down their ski-slope nose, and she was absent in taking them from her countenance and tossing them somewhere over the shoulder in favour of ushering lara forward. to no avail. as though trapped. "lara, c'mon! we have to move!"
( down the rabbit hole mall, afternoon, october 22 ) @threshblood
"Ooh, what do you think of these, Sades? Are they too much, even for me?" the performer wondered, holding up a pair of white, knee high gogo boots for them to inspect, each shoe accented with a trail of red hearts running down the sides. Although the sunny pair of friends had polar opposite aesthetics, Valerie knew that she could count on Sadie to give their honest opinion about her more eccentric taste in accessories. There had been a time in the blonde's life that such a purchase would've been a complete impossibility for her, far too garish an item to ever wear out in public, so what was the point of buying them? She supposed there was still a small part of her that worried about such things, even though there was no public image to protect anymore. Are these too loud? Where am I even gonna wear them? But she tried to ignore those nagging thoughts, remnants of a bygone era. There was no one to please other than herself, so if they made her happy, then they were worth considering. "I haven't decided yet... I'm still stewin'. But what about you? You lookin' for anything in particular today?" she redirected her attention to her friend, ready to help her find something that suited her. "You just let me know, and I'll keep my eyes peeled for ya."
oh yeah, i could totally cut this up, was the thought running through sadie's head as she appraised a frilly shirt with the potential to fit the brit punk rock vibe she veered toward like a runaway car. at her friend's voice, she swiveled without changing much of her posture, still holding aloft the article even as her eyes shifted to the boots in valerie's possession. jaw dropped β not in disgust, but in favour.
"get. them." they insisted, quite literally tossing their shirt aside and taking one of the go-go boots to inspect the assuredness of the structure. "they are too much and that's exactly the point!" hell, she was even considering them if valerie didn't get them. what for? no idea. but they were too outlandish to not purchase. "they got a good heel on 'em, too. could jump a fence or some shit in these, probably won't snap. and they're wide enough, you could run if you need'ta." handing back to form the set, "you'd be crazy not to get 'em. no one else is going to have anything like that." then, with a shrug of the shoulder and flick of shaggy hair out of her eyes, sadie added, "nah, not looking for anything in particular. i never do. if it calls to me, then it's meant to be. just can't be too pricey β i tend to make my own alterations anyway, so why pay full price? if you wanna make a game out of it, find something you think i wouldn't wear and i can tell you how i'd make it mine."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
The thing about Mary Ethel Grace, that not a lot of people like about her is that she didn't take bullshit. She didn't pretend she was better than anyone else, and she wasn't one to play nice without a reason. She didn't owe the world anything, and thus she didn't demand anything of the world. She doesn't like superficial friendships. Relationships without substance aren't for her. She's not a placeholder, nor is she someone you're going to forget about. If she makes it a point to be in your life, and if she sticks around for yours, then it means something.
The thing about Sadie is that she meant something to Mary. Sure, when Cyrek announced that some random showed up and requested to be a part of the band, a giant roll of her eyes stunted their initial greeting, but once she heard Sadie play- everything changed. It would be wrong to ignore the fact that her fellow guitarist hadn't left an indelible mark on her. And it would be cheap to associate Sadie as nothing more than a bandmate.
The pair had this thing that was special between them. When one was upset, they didn't need words to explain that pain or anger. They took it out in song- strumming chords, shrieking in melodies, and playing as loud as possible. It was their shared way of communicating. A catharsis that was meant for the pair, and them only. Together they created their own safe spaces for each other.
So Mary enters- an unlit cigarette falling at her lips. A babydoll pink dress with sleeves sways as she carries her guitar.Her leather jacket covers the bare patches of skin that showed through clothing and her signature combat boots announce her entrance. Without a greeting she jumps right in with a single question, "Remember that night we went to Kenai River, just you and me." She waits a beat, there could have been a couple of instances for Sadie to recall, but she hopes this memory finds her. It's important. "I remember us standing there at the edge of the river watching the sun sparkle across the water." Mary tried her hand at skipping rocks, but failed miserably. "You kept humming that one song..." She hopes her friend can remember. "Can you play it for me now?" She thinks she's cracked the code of those harmonies, and cautiously plucks a bit at her guitar trying to emanate that sound.
backstage had always been like a paradise, in a time even before belonging there as a member of a band. that moment one slipped behind curtains, either cheap living room drapes due to budget cuts or plush velvet that reduced sound and enclosed a space with safety, always felt like stepping into another pocket of the realm. sure, it could be compared to a vip section of sorts, but the protocol was entirely different, held more gravitas in her heart than anything comparable. and now, she was gifted the opportunity to be there without question β at least when it came to the scaredy cat, in thanks to the score of their lifetime with the vain rogues. without a call for a performance, sadie could still be found huddled at the small circular table, the wood marred with condensation rings, inexplicable groves, and now the heavy hand scribbling away at coursework. it was one of her favourite places to be, similar to her trailer with its timeworn posters of decades past; amps stacked in a corner in various states of disuse, and stuffy clothing articles of unknown masters discarded on a leaning rack by the exit. it could be considered neglected by many measures, but sadie felt it cozy. soothing.
one boot sat on the hard case of her treasured gibson electric guitar, dotted with stickers peeling from rain and idle fingers. the other boot tucked under haunch with a very much unladylike crook of the spine sure to complain later once sadie had righted herself from overtop the biology lesson. that creak of bone came sooner than anticipated with the arrival of a fluttering dress that had the younger perking up with familiarity like a reflex. the mood was curious, one that had her wide smile dampening in consideration, and as the question was posed, sadie responded automatically, "of course! i had just gotten new tires on the coronet β it worked out perfectly!" the textbook snapped shut, bookmarked by the papers she had been writing, as she converted her entire attention to mary. they nodded as they listened, allowing the memory to be drawn without resistance, and at the mention of the melody, closed their wide eyes in effort to now recall. still without vision, not wanting to break the train of thought, the one boot toed open a clasp on the guitar case as she reached down to the other, flipping it open to withdraw the instrument.
"i think so?" she gandered cautiously, not wanting to disappoint. "it wasn't another song, right?" for some reason, the rolling stones was attempting to persuade the tune in her faux-blonde head. after a beat, she tsk'd behind her teeth in minute frustration, blinking open and spotting mary's unlit cigarette. "good idea," and she fished out a stick of her own, flicking open her zippo for a light and then holding it out for her bandmate ( and most importantly, friend. but she worried about the intensity of her affections scaring them away. ) smoking had always been like an incentive, despite the vice of it. puffing absently, she tried again at strumming away something reminiscent. and knowing their propensity, still couldn't help but ask in the building of it, "any reason for this...?"
desc.
brash, bold, and impulsive (. . .) enjoys having fun and has a rather high opinion of themself. when the chips are down, they are on task, fiercely loyal to their friends and always tries to do the right thing.
view quote above.
the chain-link fence peeled back like a bolt of stiff fabric under sadie's practiced hands. the bite of the cold metal, pressing thinly into the joints of her fingers not shielded by chunky rings, had long been disaffected when the adrenaline of self-appointed righteousness alit her skeleton. the motion halted in a triangular portal scaffolded by a fence post, the bleach-blonde glancing over their shoulder at their partner-in-crime similarly crouched at the flank.
"what β are you worried about me?" affection was the undercurrent of the question, if a little impish. nodding toward the other side of the dreary lot they were on the precipice, "don't worry, i'll be in your line of sight. i won't try'ta go rogue. you just have to tell me if them bastards start comin' around. do you remember the call?" punctuating her question came a short trill of the tongue, quieted by their proximity, but at louder volumes would mimic a bird of some sort. it was her idea, something she picked up from one of her spy comics. if it was childish, they didn't think so. "now, gimme some sugar."
the young activist snickered at her own innuendo as she accepted the pound of supermarket sugar they were packing to cradle like a newborn, gesturing the coiled fence for bambi to hold back so that sadie could crawl through. having crossed the threshold, distressed jeans wet at the knee and breath clouding the air before her face, she remained in a lowered position, stealing away across the lot. somewhere in the distance, she could hear the laughter of unaware men, praying it would stay that way until she was done. a scoff stuck in her throat as she came astride a van, the one previously scouted as the vehicle those evil men would soon set off in to partake of their evil hobbies β clubbing innocent arctic animals. flipping open the gas cap, sadie glanced back at bambi for any sign of foiling, and then siloed the mouth of the package of sugar. a soft sifting began as the ingredient trickled into the gas tank. the more, the merrier when it came to destroying property...
@anchoragestartersLOCATION: anywhere on the street
limited (0/5)
Benny wasnβt having a very good day, whichβ¦ after what had happened recently, shouldnβt surprise him much. But given his track record, he figured he wouldβve hit that love ache in the chest already and got back to his feet. His alcohol consumption and other vices said otherwise. He was leaning against his car, his nose stuffed with tissue paper against the blood that was coming out of it, dark bags under his eyes, and a cigarette hanging from his mouth, which he was trying to desperately light with his shaking hands.Β
The longer it took, the more he was growing frustrated. Even if he knew his frustration wasnβt at the fact that the damned cigarette wasnβt lighting. He growled and spit the cigarette back into his car, turning and allowing himself to slide down to the dirty sidewalk. Heβd made a mistake thinking he could cut Mei off, heβd made a mistake thinking it wouldnβt shatter him, because he hadnβt considered she might already love him. And he hadnβt thought he might actually want her back.Β
βHey you,β he said to the first passerby. βGot steady hands? I canβt seem to use a fucking lighter.β He held the thing out but didnβt get up. He was starting to realise how drunk he was.
coffee breath and inky fingertips, sadie bustled down the chilly sidewalk with a precarious juggle of textbooks while stuffing a stained barista apron into a shoulder bag already teeming with oddities threatening to overflow onto the ground β like it wasn't hard enough to find a handful of guitar picks when she knocked them over in her own trailer. anchorage was already ridiculously cold, using a spare finger around the spine of a volume to pull at her earthen sherpa denim jacket in vain. despite it, there was a wayward smirk akin to others' resting bitch face on her lips, appearing for all the world like she was eternally in on the joke. whatever it was. and yet, it crumbled away with a fissure of the brows into concern when she finally drew her attention elsewhere to land upon a man as he came to a seat, the car a backrest.
"you bet," she supplied immediately, changing course to step into his space without a second regard. they set down their books on the driest piece of concrete they could find β though it mattered little β and procured the lighter sadie had been gifted by the hot blonde singer the other night at the open mic night. rather than handing it over and risk becoming victim to the omnipresent event of pocketing thieves every smoke circle comprised of, she waited until he was able to tremble another stick to his slurring mouth before alighting and cupping it with the other hand before his face. the cigarette caught easily. "you think it's gonna clear up your head, or should i call you a cab? where d'ya live? you're in no state to be alone like this." bloody, exhausted, inebriated. some may call it pitying, but sadie felt it sympathetic the way they displayed a soft smile and head tilt. sitting back on the curb after a beat, "or if you'd prefer, we can have a smoke and you can tell me your story until you're sober enough to drive home. but until then, i'm gonna have to ask for your keys, good sir."
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
β Live Streamingβ Interactive Chatβ Private Showsβ HD Qualityβ Free Actions
Free to watch β’ No registration required β’ HD streaming
( π πππππππππ, ππ ππππ πππ πππ ) The air was alive, punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses and the distant murmur of conversations. The scent of aged wood and spilled beer mingled with the faint trace of cigarette smoke, creating an atmosphere that was equal parts gritty and inviting.Β The walls, adorned with faded concert posters, were beholden to the bar's musical legacy. Their corners curled from old age. It was a haven for souls seeking solace in a lifetime of melodies and lyrics. High-top tables with mismatched stools dotted the room, offering small islands of intimacy amidst the crowd. Each table bore the scars of time and countless drinks, etchings of laughter etched into their surfaces. Overhead, pendant lights hung like golden orbs, casting pools of light on the worn hardwood floor.
The bar venue was dimly lit with amber-hued bulbs, casting a warm glow that bathed the room in an inviting radiance. In the corner, a ratty corkboard displayed an assortment of flyers. Among them, a vibrant one caught her eye, the words "Open Mic" emblazoned in bold, inviting letters. It was a beacon of opportunity, a siren's call to any brave soul willing to step onto the stage and bare their soul.
Mary Ethel stood at the edge of the dimly lit bar, the buzz of excitement coursing through her veins as she stared at that stage. It was a platform for dreams, where musicians and performers would soon stand, pouring their hearts out in song. Microphones stood sentinel, waiting for voices to breathe life into the room. It was a different stage from the one sheβd take on weekends, and instead lacked a pole for her to swing her legs around. It was perfect. She took a moment to adjust the thin spaghetti-like strap of her top, her honey-blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, and surveyed the room with an eager glint in her hazel eyes. She greets a strangerβ someone sheβs never met before, βHowβs the crowd been?β She wonders if they are ready for her gruff, sandy voice.
the bars of anchorage were frequented just as often as the lecture halls of the university when it came to the passions of sadie. in a way, it was a bit like a practicum, considering she hoped to wrap up her general arts and sciences stint in a transition to music theory. when she wasn't performing gigs on the stage herself, they were more than happy to coalesce in the community that was entertained. there was love on either side of the relationship, one that began as part of the crowd. so natural it was to mingle among the bar tables, attuned to the random sticky patches undersole and practiced with stray elbows, that sadie soon found gifted upon herself a cigarette by a flushed stranger before ambling off herself to pair it with a beer. it wasn't until she was situating herself on a spare stool that the faux-blonde attempted a flick of her lighter and despaired at its immediately evident lack of fluid.
a voice caught their attention, sadie looking up glitteringly. with a smile made crooked by the cigarette awaiting its spark, they intoned, "eager. real easy to strike up a conversation," winking in amicable manner to highlight the fact made simple by their own current interaction. "tonight's a good night, though. no one's drunk enough yet to heckle, and there doesn't seem to be a bad vibe, you know? the type of night you just know some shit's gonna go down β none of that. why, you gonna sing?" there was an excited lilt to her voice, considering the air of the other and deciding for herself that it would be a show indeed. and then, remembering, she gestured vaguely at her features, a raspy chuckle sounding behind the filter, "you wouldn't happen to have a lighter handy? 'm fresh outta juice."
