Apples to Oranges

“I HAVEN’T THOUGHT THAT FAR AHEAD...”

natasha liu bordizzo & she/her / cis female ‷ watch out , zephyr xú has crash-landed into roswell !! they look 25 years old and celebrate their birthday on august twentieth. they are from boulder, co, reside in jupiter valley and are currently working as a forensic scientist. one thing you should know about them is they dye their hair to match their mood‷ + maine coon named lennon.

avery probably wouldn’t have noticed someone sitting down at their table if it weren’t so wobbly. they were completely laser focused on their laptop screen. his eyes were starting to blur slightly from staring at formulae for so long, so he was just considering a break when suddenly there was movement. out of the corner of their eye, they spotted their coffee cup (the third one of the study session, but who was counting?) start to tip, the once-hot liquid heading straight for the stack of papers he needed to grade. luckily his reflexes were fast enough to reach out and prevent the imminent disaster, but he definitely didn’t hear most of what zephyr had said over the pounding in his ears. “ wha- who’s christina ricci ?? ” raised under a rock called academia, avery had never really been one to sit and watch movies. “ ghost lover maybe, i like to think i’m open minded enough, if ghosts do exist. but i don’t think i’m cut out for the purge. i’m not exactly a fighter, plus i might not even notice it starting if i’m in the middle of a good book. ”

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The neon-haired woman wasn’t so sure if the wobbling was due to the table itself, or if she was physically vibrating from all the caffeine in her system. You’d think she would’ve learned her lesson by now that two cups of coffee is the limit for her slender frame and frantic mind. She couldn’t help that her eyes caught a glimpse of the numbers in front of the other individual. “Do you want help?” It was quirky, her enthusiasm for numbers showing. The lab rat was always fully encompassed in brain games of some sort; puzzles, math problems, reading - working the mind was a passion of hers. Did she know they other was grading papers? Absolutely not. She just saw numbers and knew she wanted to be a part of it. Her mouth fell open. “You don’t know the queen who is Wednesday Addams?” Zeph’s tone disappointed more than anything. She listened to his words with a nod of understanding. “So, ghosts are debatably orbs of energy left from a living being’s spirit? From my knowledge of reading, at least.” Though, where she got most of the information was graphic novels and documentaries. Maybe a few research studies here and there, but anomalous experiences were always tickling at her interest. “I think that you’d be very handy in comping up for escape plans, or survival plans in general though?” It was a compliment, a nod, to the other’s intellect. Just the way they presented themself, it was hard not to pick up on it. 

one of gunner’s eyebrows raises as he takes a sip of his drink - he can’t remember what it is, only that it’s a neon color that never naturally occurs in nature, and he thinks it’s supposed to be fruity - and he almost chokes on it at the question, coughing a bit as he recovers. “i figure, at this point, a ghost is the only way i’m gettin’ laid,” he starts - which is mostly true, since he hadn’t met anyone who caught his eye since moving to town three years before. “and i mean. the purge is an american holiday, so i think i’ll just take a vacation every year. maybe go to the tropics, or check out australia. maybe paris, and watch news streams of the bullshit goin’ on in america with a view of the eiffel tower.”

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When the other practically chokes, Zeph can’t help but to snicker to herself. Obviously, her mind was not for the weak. Her eyes twinkled with amusement as the other worked on answering her question. Taking a sip of her electric blue drink, she had to hold back her own laughter. “Pretty sure you can seduce a werewolf and maybe a vampire?” Zeph joked, her teasing warm and friendly - no ill intention there. Nodding the young woman pointed at him when she continued to take another long sip of her drink. “True that. I think I’d go to Denmark though. They’re the second best country to live in based on quality of life.” The fact falling from her mouth in a single breath. “I don’t think they broadcast it, though. Talk about some twisted Hunger Games. Oh. My. Biscuits. You’d be one of those Capitol fuckers, huh?”

for: @zephxu​ location: their place @ jupiter valley

Feet up on the coffee table, which was littered with comic books and empty containers, Nic greeted Zeph with a wave when she entered the room. “It was a bad night…” It was a ridiculous excuse, there was no such thing as a bad night when it came to his job, he spent his time raking up leaves and mowing lawns… cleaning up gravestones. He supposed he was just in a shitty mood today, sometimes he could feel lonely and it hit him like a ton of bricks, the feeling coming completely out of left wing. At his side, Captain Jack suddenly perked out, sensing the other person in the room. “Sorry if I was being noisy or whatever.”

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She was debating on if she should be holding her breath or not; The smell of alcohol usually too strong and overpowering to her senses depending on which were the focus. Zephyr was more so concerned when she saw the state of Nick; The messiness, the dark shadows around his eyes, her gasp stopping her thoughts in their tracks, “I know that isn’t our issue of Action Comics #1 on the floor-!” Her brightly colored hair almost incomparable to the flush of her face. Zeph’s mind was already set, her demeanor coming across as grumpy though the gentle greeting of petting Captain Jack in her pursuit was an indication that she was being her jocular self. Stopping at the window to pick out her NERF N-Strike from between the cushions of the loveseat and quickly pointing it at her housemate mere feet from her. “I’m calling this a battle zone. Loser is doing dishes for a week.” Zeph smiled a little, her dramatics on hold as her benevolence was shining through. In truth, she was trying to liven him up some, take Nick’s mind off of whatever was dragging him down; She could care less about the current state of the room.

location:the cow barn, puhlman’s ranch

with:closed with @zephxu​

“ i dunno , berth — i don’t think she likes me like that , y’know ?? who’s gonna like a guy who shovels shit for a livin’ — no offence , ol’ girl , “ an oversized hand patted the soft brown hide of one of his favorite cows . big bertha , at this point in time , was the closest to a therapist striker would ever be able to afford ; the pink-uddered beast listened whenever he needed an ear , would never dare pass judgement toward his unorthodox antics and , above all , was free to access . “ girls like ‘er don’t fall for guys like me .. “ a rattling of barn doors stole attention from his bovine therapist toward the noise . dragging his tattered sand-colored cowboy boots from the ground he made his way to the entrance , cracking open double doors to let a stream of light in , peeping through the gap to ensure nobody had been eavesdropping . at the realisation it was zephyr the doors were blown wide , a beaming smile replacing any previous telltale signs of boyish mourning ; “ zeph !! well , what a mighty surprise . what can i do you for today , eh ?? a tour of the chicken coops ?? “ 

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She found the exchange interesting. Her frame paused outside the doors. Usually not one for eavesdropping, the pink-haired woman was baffled by how the male just spoke to the cow without even attempting their native tongue of mooing. It was her klutzy self that got her caught, her inquisitive nature making her lean too close to the door that it moved. Zephyr was tempted to stop like a child due to defeat, but wound up pushing it down in order to greet her pal, “Striker! What’s good?” Her tone similar to Michael Scott’s when he was getting into a pickle. His question dismounting the current fixation of the young woman, and brought it back to her origins of why she happened to be there; Other than to accidentally eavesdrop, naturally. “I was wondering if I could pitch you an idea.” Her hands already trying to formulate the response before it came out. Instead, her guilt hit her like a ton of bricks. “Why don’t you moo at the cows?”

winter made a faint hum in the back of her throat as she listened to the other, absentmindedly stirring her drink with the little cocktail straw that stuck out of it. the question, however, had one of her eyebrows raising. “you know what? i’d take on any lover if they loved me at this rate,” she hummed, leaning down to take a sip of her drink before straightening once again. “ghost, alien, swamp monster - a girl’s gettin’ desperate.” which probably isn’t something she’d normally admit to, if she wasn’t already a few drinks in. “and i’d handle the purge by doing what every girl worth her weight would do - find a strong, handsome, protective man to spend the night with every purge night. he’ll protect me- or, like, take a trip to europe, since the purge is an american holiday in all of the movies. but i like the idea of a hot tattooed outlaw protecting me a little bit more.”

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She tried to take the other seriously, but her response caused Zephyr to throw her head back in a melodic laughter. When she ceased, she threw her shot back, allowing the burning to consume her throat on its way down; Call it a reality shock, if you will. “I honestly don’t blame you.” The pink-haired woman managed to chime in before the blonde started her list. It caused Zeph to cock a brow, thoroughly entertained by the character beside her. “For real?” For a moment, it wasn’t clear to her if the blonde was being genuine or sarcastic. She had the alcohol consumption to thank for that. But, usually, two drinks and a shot wouldn’t push Zephyr off-balance like this in her mind. “I feel like we’re at that point that I download Tinder or any other dating app, and it’s just - where’s all the hot people at? I was told there’d be hot people, and the only hot person winds up being me!” She utilized her hands as she spoke, her animation making Walt roll in his grave. This other girl was a romantic - something that easily could be spotted from miles away. “Would you at least allow him to train you in shooting a gun?” Her head shaking, “It’s 2022, women don’t need men. Never did, never will. But I would watch that Hulu Original, for sure.”

           expressive  blues  widen  as  she  initially  absorbs  the  unique  details,  before  brows  are  knitted  together  thoughtfully,  tongue  marred  red  from  her  third  vodka  cranberry  as  it  swipes  over  her  full  bottom  lip.  “i  mean,  i’m  not  opposed  to  taking  a  ghost  lover,  but  that  also  opens  the  door  to,  like,  countless  other  paranormal  paramours  that  i  might  not  be  all  that  ready  to  handle,”  april  begins,  svelte  digits  pulling  through  unruly  caramel  tresses  as  she  slowly  accepts  that  yes,  she’s  a little  buzzed  and  maybe  she’s  more  open  to  ghostly  dalliances  than  previously  anticipated.  “not  casper,  though  —  i  mean,  he’s  way  too  young!  maybe  james  dean’s  ghost,  mainly  because  i  have  to  know  the  truth  about  that  threesome  with  paul  newman  and  eartha  kitt.  it’s  essential.”  the  purge  inquiry,  though,  visibly  sends  a  shudder  down  april’s  spine,  thoroughly  defeated.  “oh,  i  absolutely  have  no  will  to  live  in  that  situation.  you  have  full  permission  to  just  take  me  out,  old  yeller  style.”  she  shifts  closer,  amusement  coloring  her  features  as  she  carries  on,  “okay,  but  would  you  survive  a  saw  situation?”  a  pause,  trailed  by  low,  dulcet  laughter.  “god,  that’s  a  horrifying  question  to  hear  at  a  bar,  right?  i  promise  i  have  no  intentions  of  any  saw-level  shenanigans,  it’s  pure  curiosity.  for  science,  y’know?”

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Her neon pink hair contrasted yet complimented the bright blue of the sex in the driveway cocktail that took up a little more than a third of her glass. It was the other’s eyes that reminded her of the cocktail in her possession. Instantly, her mind was attracted to the electric yellow of the straw as she took a long suck on the straw so that her tongue was stained a dark blue. A shrug followed suit, her fingers playing with the straw in order to mix the drink as if it separated. In truth, it was a natural fidget with conversation. “I think that a vampire would be hot. I don’t mean the sparkly ones, though. Definitely talking Interview with a Vampire, here.” Zephyr added before gasping, inhaling some of her cocktail down the wrong pipe which made her cough for a moment before her eyes shot to the other’s. “Listen - cartoon ghost. It was like some weird ass Scooby-Doo spin-off. Pretty sure I was Lydia Deetz in this dream...” The young woman painted a clearer picture as her brows stuck together at the brunette’s words. This was a strange road they were going down, her mind wasn’t thinking of actual people until now. “If I’m fucking any genuine human being’s ghost - it’s Marilyn Monroe and JFK. They know something about aliens, and that’s why he was shot. We all know this.” The rather off-beat woman spoke so casually of the conspiracy; To her, it was an obvious fact. 

Leaning back in the chair as a way to get comfortable in her positioning, there was no indication that she was surprised by April’s response. “Do I have permission to use you as bait?” The wolfish shape of her eyes turned mischievous, her brows popping in unison with her jocular smirk. Zephyr waved her off with a laugh, “Saw is a walk in the park. I’m pretty sure one of them was one of the first movies I watched.” She noted, her mind drifting off before she shook her head back to reality. “Jigsaw has a very systematic way of carrying out his games. Pretty easy to crack the code with his moral hierarchy bit.” It was her composure; Her confidence in her tone that gave away that she was putting genuine though into the question. “What about you? Oh, oh - better yet - why would Jigsaw pick you for his game?” Her interest now at an all time high as her smirk doubled over into a grin.

“ Progresso has been calling , they want to know your going rate ,” he added, enjoying the soup banter, no matter how ridiculous it seemed. After shaking her hand, Callum realized how unstable the cans were. “ Let me get those , sorry about that .” He quickly reached for the food items and then found himself cradling the full aluminum, remembering the paper bag with a giant hole in the bottom. “ Well , what do you prefer ?” Cal never wanted to get a name wrong and sometime people offered nicknames when their preference was the longer version. “ I feel like this is definitely more of a Deadpool move than the Joker . Too simple for someone so clever ,” he rebutted. “ Although , maybe my plan doesn ’ t even involve the cans and its all an illusion to divert you from my bigger plan ,” he added, chuckling softly to himself. He shook his head, not wanting to bother the woman any more than he already has. “ No , not far at all , I think I can manage ,” he lied.

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She practically snorted, almost ruining whatever type of cool demeanor the girl was letting on. A ‘worry’ that would be plausible if she actually had a rad bone in her body. “Too much than they’d be willing to handle. I either require the super secret formula, or a trip to Universal, at least.” Damn - how she loved that velociraptor, Blue. To the point where meeting the caricature at a theme park was at the top of her ever-changing bucket list. “No- no, it’s totally fine. Su soup es mi soup.” The deliverance of the Spanish was entirely fumbled, though a good try to the extent that she was tempted to pat her own back with a soup can she was too stubborn to let go of. The shorter of the two blinked, an obvious tell that she was blindsided by the question; No one has ever asked her what she preferred. Most of the time, they just picked one or both and rolled with it. “You can call me Zeph.” Zephyr corrected her introduction, her head nodding as she came to terms with deciding for the other. “What about you? Do you like nicknames at all?” 

A grin spread over her features as easily as butter would to warm bread, “Hence why I said off-brand Walmart Joker. The plan was that bad.” The counter easy before she let out a genuine laugh, “It’d be a clever distraction, for sure though. Definitely should’ve went with something that would’ve been more of a hassle to pick up to give yourself more time.” Spoken like a true comic book expert. There was a confidence to her tone, yet playfully pointed, “You need to take How to Be a Villain 101.” Her head bobbed in sorts that gave away she didn’t believe him. “Nonsense. Just know that I have a housemate, so if I disappear due to some ‘bigger plan’ - I’ll have people come looking.” Zephyr further joked, taking a few of his bags in her hands as she slipped one of the cans into one to lessen the strain on her hands.

Jogging over to where his groceries fell, Callum was grateful to see someone to his rescue. “ It ’ s a marketable skill ,” he joked, appreciating her assistance, even if his rouge cans did nearly kill her. “ Callum ,” he said, outstretching his arm for a handshake. Do people do that anymore? he wondered, suddenly feeling a bit silly for offering. “ I kind of keep to myself . And Roswell isn ’ t that small of a town ,” he chuckled. Most of Cal’s days were spent either sketching in bed, tattooing at Black Box, or running around town, not usually causing as much havoc as now.

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The corners of her smile twitched up, showing her appreciation for his humor. It would’ve been awkward if he took the situation too seriously. “Chef Boyardee is quaking as we speak.” Her brown eyes drew to his hand only to flash back to the soups in her arms. It was agile in a weird sort of grace, the shaking of one of the cans being the only tell that she was a klutz, herself. The young woman shook his hand with confidence. “Zephyr. Some call me Zeph, though - so, whatever floats your boat.” Her shoulders shrugged, making the hot pink in her hair glint more neon with the sun’s rays as she took her hand back and allowed the soup cans to settle back in a comfortable position.

“So you’re not some off-brand Walmart version of the Joker, trying to take over Roswell with soup cans?” Her brown piqued, showing the woman put some thought into it even if her tone was jocular. “And here I was, about to ask about your road to villainy...” Zeph’s head shook to herself in a teasing tsk. “Do you live far? I think juggling these with those bags seems an awful task for just one person.” She hinted at helping, without a prompt.

“Alright, so get this-” The vibrant-haired female instantaneously pulled out the chair on the opposing side of the person, taking it upon herself to sit down. Rather abrupt, it would’ve come off as rude if it were anyone else besides her. “I had this EXTREME dream the other night where I was Christina Ricci in ‘Casper.’ Hold up- it doesn’t stop there, folks!” Zephyr paused for a moment, letting the intensity of her storytelling build. “The FUCKING PURGE starts to happen. Right in the middle of a happy ending with the friendly ghost, himself!” Her voice incredulous.

“So, I guess what I’m trying to get at, is: Would you take on a ghost lover? Also, how would you handle the purge when it becomes a legitimate thing in the near future?” 

when: tuesday, mid-morning

where: near starlight supermarket

who: open ​

Sundays were Callum’s typical grocery days, but the increasingly dry heat was making it hard for him to walk back home, arms full of mostly junk food. He never saw the point in driving to the store when he was so close to it, but the softly suffocating air in Roswell was close to changing his mind. About two blocks from his front door, he felt the paper bag give way and cans of soup tumble down the path behind him. “ Fuck ,” he mumbled, looking for a spot on the pavement to leave his now withered bag.

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It was cartoon-esque how the young woman stepped on a rolling can, being thrown off balance enough to pull her attention off the blue light in her hand. Luckily, she didn’t fall, her free hand gripping the nearby traffic signal pole. Discarding her phone into her pocket, she leant over to pick up the can. Finding it curious that there was a stray soup can, she then watched as others made their way over to her. Zephyr laughed to herself as she began picking up the soup cans, looking around for who possibly could be pulling such an obscure prank.

The sight of the male up ahead made the dots connect in her brain, the smaller of the two jogging up to him, “I guess I can add ‘soup wrangler’ to my résumé.” Her smile radiant, overly warm in a hyperactive yet friendly demeanor. “I’m Zephyr - I don’t think I’ve seen you around before?” Her tone a ‘correct me if I’m wrong’ in deliverance.