Brows  Furrow  In  Concern  As  Sabine  Trails  Off.  It's  Easy  Enough  For 

imagine being this stunning

          in  hindsight,  her  avoidance  of  those  most  familiar  tonight  has  been  intentional,  ducking  her  head  to  let  her  hair  shield  her  profile  from  view,  choosing  to  go  left  when  she'd  been  headed  right.  guinevere  lovelace  is  not  a  coward,  but  she  is  aggrieved.  she  ends  up,  somehow,  at  a  blackjack  table.  her  betting  is  restrained  to  the  table  minimum,  not  out  of  an  excess  of  caution,  but  of  heart  and  will.  she  isn't  here  for  money.  a  story  is  the  reason  she  gave  her  editor,  investigation  is  the  one  she  gives  herself.            neve  steps  away  from  the  table  when  she  doubles  her  cash,  chips  in  hand  as  she  searches  for  fresh  air.  she  finds  it  in  the  solitude  of  a  dark  spring  night,  tucked  mostly  away  from  the  crowd.  still,  it's  not  a  perfect  hiding  place,  as  is  proven  by  mara's  appearance.           the  funeral  wasn't  the  difficult  part.  neither  was  the  actual  death.  it's  the  burial  that  happens  every  morning,  the  feeling  that  she's  trapped  behind  her  own  rib cage  and  unable  to  slip  out.  she  buried  parts  of  herself  when  she  threw  dirt  over  elidyr's  empty  casket.  she  buried  parts  of  herself  —  albeit  smaller  —  the  night  eli  showed  up  at  her  mercy  dorm  half-drunk  and  tongue  tied  about  his  girlfriend.  ex-girlfriend.     (     '     she  doesn't  deserve  you     '    said  without  hearing  the  story,  countered  by  a  hiccuping     '     i  love  her     '     )               she  lost  two  siblings  within  the  span  of  weeks,  one  by  blood  another  by  bond.  years  have  passed  but  the  bitterness  on  her  tongue  lingers,  a  stain  she  can't  get  out  no  matter  how  many  times  she  cleans.

         "     i     —    "     rarely  is  she  left  struggling  for  words.  she   bounces  between  civility  and contentiousness,  and  chooses  to  don  a  front  of  politeness.  neve's  mouth  tightens,  though  she  smiles  as  she  plays  off  her  reaction  as  surprise.    "     i'm  not.  i  guess  it's  the  closest  i  can  get  to  an  arcade  right  now.  managed  to  win  fifty  bucks.    "     eli  had  been  fond  of  vintage  games  and  new  releases  alike,  she  still  has  a  game  that  she'd  been  meaning  to  gift  him  for  his  birthday  tucked  away  somewhere.    "     could  say  the  same  for  you.  mercy's  still  in  the  business  of  changing  people,  then     ?     how  much  was  the  voucher  again     ?     heard  it  was  a  grand,  but  no  one's  confirming.    "     how  easily  she  settles  into  her  element     —     journalism  and  information  extraction.  she  may  have  been  a  great  agent  had  she  stayed.

　　　CLOSED　　⸻　 guinevere , @greatpain

half empty glass of champagne is stained cherry red around the rolled rim, unique as a fingerprint. abandoned, left to condensate atop the flashing neon promise of a slot machine. she is a self-tamed creature, primordial devotion a patchwork of girlhood starvation and the devouring that followed, that has never stopped. she is all mouth. had tried to swallow guinevere whole, the tenderest consumption, after atropos severed the human tether that had so effortlessly knotted them together. fumbled for the fraying edges of that clean cut, following it to the glutted dénouement of abandonment at the other end.

the fourteenth floor balcony. still carrying the remains of that tether, saturated with the burgundy stain of old blood. more appendage than object. " i never took you for a gambler, " mara hesitates in their distant periphery, an uncharacteristic nervous hope flickering like a pilot light. that inherent lure to another, steadying presence of the sibling. near sibling, if it must be said. inimitable, but always begging. the absence is violent all the same, claws and teeth and open wounds. no one escapes siblinghood unscathed. but here, in the irreverent springtime chill, an offering of balm .. " have you won anything ? "

          "     you're  not  having  fun     ?     "     yejide  has  always  been  one  to  make  the  best  out  of  any  situation,  and  a  party  is  never  one  that  has  concerned  them  much.  they  understand  how  to  talk  to  people,  how  to  pull  even  the  most  stringent  wallflowers  out  of  their  shells,  how  to  make  others  smile  with  little  more  than  a  smile  of  their  own.  they  don't  need  to  be  a  radiant  to  be  radiant.  hands  reach  out  as  precaution  to  steady  the  field  agent  just  in  case.     "     how  many  of  those've  you  had     ?     don't  think  we  can  leave  early,  but  we  can  maybe  step  out  for  some  fresh  air  together.  how's  that  sound     ?     "

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 001 / GOVERNOR'S BALL ; open

time at events such as these never moves in a linear line — it's a spiral, a journey inward, not forward. time, always so fascinatingly cruel, the way it either slips or slows, moving of its own accord. cipriana stands in a corner of her own, resembling more a lalique statuette than an actual person; something you could almost look through and not at. at least the dome of her skull feels picked clean, pierced by soporific and nearly obligatory tête-à-têtes. the wine in her glass, redder than most she'd seen before, sloshes around, threatening to spill over the rim. thus she steps back, steadying her hand. '' so, when can we leave? ''

          they  tap  incessently  at  the  screen,  lips  pursed  in  thought  as  they  scan  through  contradicting  and  redacted  confidential  information.     "     do  cyber  research,  they say...  but  don't  look  at  information  that  will  help  because  we  don't  want  you  to  have  it.  stupid.     "     frustrated,  yejide  powers  off  their  tablet,  though  they  continue  tapping  the  screen  awake  every  couple  seconds  just  in  case  they  somehow  missed  a  notification     (     spoiler  :  they  haven't     ).     "     can  i  confess  something     ?     "     they  don't  wait  for  an  an  affirmative  answer.     "     i  wasn't  scared  of  clowns  before  the  incident  but  i  think  i  might  be  now.  they  were  kinda  creepy.     "

" it's not just you, " jia says. his own device sits untouched in their lap as he watches yejide work. " which is good, means we get fewer security breaches, but sucks when the directors decide they know best. " not that julia particularly cares about the details, beyond that they think it would make for an interesting read. he's always been more interested in entertainment than anything else, boredom being the only real fate worse than death in their eyes. " quite honestly, it's amazing we get told as much as we do, " they say. " if they could get away with telling us no more than the civilians, they probably would — but then we wouldn't be able to get anything done effectively. "

➥     status  :  open  with  guinevere  lovelace ➥     location  :  the  dead  lucky  casino

          the  lights  cast  a  kaleidoscope  of  colors  across  the  casino  as  guinevere  navigates  with  purpose  through  the  throng  of  self  proclaimed  very  important  people  and  mercy  agents.  gaze  sharp  and  discerning  scans  the  crowd  for  familiar  faces,  turning  away  before  she  can  make  eye  contact  with  someone  she  used  to  know,  and  she  finds  herself  approaching  the  bar  with  measured  steps.  with  a  tilt  of  her  head  and  her  best  approximation  of  a  charming  smile,  she  pulls  the  person  closest  to  her  into  conversation  involuntarily.     "     luck  not  on  your  side  tonight     ?     or  are  you  just  on  edge  anticipating  something  to  go  wrong  like  it  did  the  last  time  there  were  one  too  many  agents  packed  in  the  same  room     ?     "

Send “✆” for a MORNING text. Send “✉” for a text that WASN’T SENT. Send “☎” for a RUSHED text. Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text. Send “✿” for a SUGGESTIVE text. Send “ø” for a LATE NIGHT text. Send “✘” for a HATEFUL text. Send “#” for a RANDOM text. Send “@” for a SCARED text. Send “&” for a LOVING text. Send “%” for a CURIOUS text. Send “ツ” for an EXCITED text. Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text. Send “♀” for a HEARTBREAKING text.

I’ve got a sixth sense it’s called paranoia