EVENT: THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE.

[cuddlemods]

EVENT: THE TRUTH WILL SET YOU FREE.

This just in: water is wet. You already knew that, though, didn't you? So smart, so wise — and yet, here you are, in a city that's somehow managed to displace an entire group of people with one tiny drop of a shovel. One might assume that flooding a set of recently inhabited buildings and stopping a brand new construction project would be enough damage done for one accidental swing of a shovel, but you know what they say about making assumptions. The fact is, there's always more to the story... and it has been raining quite a bit lately. In fact, it's been raining nonstop for the past few days. If you've been wondering why, wonder no longer. At precisely noon, a chime can be heard all around the city. Its tinny vibrations are impossible to miss, and those who have been around the block might recognize it from a long-ago treasure hunt — it's an all-call, a broadcast sent simultaneously over local television & radio stations as well as citizens' personal CuddlePhones, containing a message from Volunteer Coordinators Flora & Cornelius. Like your favorite weather reporters, they've come out to the center of the action to report live on the recent happenings within the city — most notably the curiously shimmering rainfall and its potential impact on those who are exposed to it. It's Flora who delivers the bulk of the message, clearly reading off of a teleprompter in her slight twang, and looking quite confused by the entire ordeal. Also, she's drenched, the rain pouring down on her which she tries desperately to smile through, undeterred. "The city's scientific community, after much research, has concluded that the pipes affected by the — er, puncture under the building site were filled with water typically filtered by the Energem. Due to the recent, totally innocuous, tooootally nothing to be concerned about fissure — oopsie-daisy, I wasn't supposed to say that — it appears that some of the Energem's magic has also leeched into the water during the fil-ter-ing pro-cess. While the flooding has now thankfully subsided and the standing water has receded back into the underground reservoirs, it appears the affected water has at least partially been absorbed into the atmosphere, where it is being released in particularly ... enthusiastic rain showers. The rain itself seems to be affecting those who come into contact with it, making them less resistant to unfiltered communication or confessions. Did y'all know that I'm not a natural blonde? It's true! Ahem. Anyways! The current hy-po-thesis, while not yet confirmed by the city administration — well that's silly, we're the city administration! — is the Energem's intention to foster intimate connections has imbued the rain with, um, encouraging properties." Finally done, Flora offers an friendly, reassuring smile. A voice can be heard clearly from behind the camera, male, and most definitely Cornelius: "Good job, darling! Except you sounded terrible. — I mean! I didn't mean that! I don't know why I said that. Hey, Flora? Do you think we maybe should've brought umbrellas before we —" And then the feed cuts off abruptly. Huh. What did she say about a fissure again? Could that have been a result of the recent earthquake? Before anyone has too much time to overthink, the chime once again echoes out into the city. This time, it's a text bulletin from an account simply named THE CITY OF CADELLE. Fancy. The city administration and local scientific community have advised that it may be in your best interest to remain indoor until this weather pattern subsides. Naturally, such an advisory might make it difficult to attempt moving back in to the recently re-opened Welcome District, so hotel accommodations will be extended for the time being. In addition, complimentary umbrellas, raincoats, wellies, and galoshes will be available for pick-up at City Hall, should you have a need to venture out in this weather. What will you do? Among the many, there are a few options to consider: ▸ You could decide to continue on, business as usual. It's just rain, isn't it? A little water never hurt anyone, and besides, you've got nothing to hide. If the Energem wants honesty, well, by golly, that's what it's going to get. ▸ You might prefer to be prepared — gather your umbrella and your wellies and trudge on, soldier. Try as you might to stay dry, a few drops might hit you here and there, but you're not panicked. You shower, you brush your teeth; what's a few raindrops on top of that? ▸ You might want to investigate! Collect samples of rainwater, and try your best not to be exposed to it too much in the process. The University's chemistry and life sciences departments are paying handsomely for well-preserved samples of this unique weather event, and while you'll have to battle the elements to get there, the monetary reward might be worth it for you. Or the satisfaction of contributing to scientific exploration, if that's more your thing. Either way! ▸ You may, however, not want a thing to do with it. Stay home — or in your new home-away-from-home, if that's where you're at — and more importantly, stay dry. The city hopes that all of its citizens do try their best to stay dry and therefore unaffected by any unintended effects of this quite unseasonal rainfall. Isn't this fun? Characters splashing about in shining, shimmering splendor puddles, getting soaked to the bone with magical rain that makes people want to spill all their secrets? Or perhaps avoiding it all by staying inside with a warm cup of hot chocolate and their favorite book. Of course, it's one thing to have rain that makes you truthful... but quite another to assume the rain just disappears. Any fourth grader will tell you that's not quite how things work. You see, there's this fancy thing called the water cycle, where rainfall finds its way into groundwater sources, which are then filtered and utilized for city water supplies, which then feeds into all sorts of water-dependent utilities inside. Places like a shower, or perhaps a sink where people brush their teeth, or the tap water used to make coffee in the morning or to boil on the stove... the sky is the metaphorical limit here. Feel free to get creative — maybe your character doesn't want to heed the city's warning, and continues on business as usual. Maybe they've already been exposed to enough rainwater to feel particularly chatty. Maybe they hole themselves up inside their room, but continued exposure to water via their daily two-hour bath or excessive showering habits (hey, we're not judging, maybe they're part mermaid) has lent its magic anyway. Of course, you always have the ability to opt-out of any event, including this one. While the rain's effects are certainly encouraging, no one is ever forced to tell the truth — resistance might give someone a bit of a headache, or a queasy stomach, but characters will not drop dead or find themselves grievously ill unless you particularly want them to! (Please don't kill your character.) Citizens may also respond to Flora and Cornelius's network post! Yes, it's true, we've got Cuddle City NPCs out and ready for action at long last. While they may wait until they return to the office to respond, feel free to speak with them via text, video, or audio and they'll be happy to chat. Simply respond to THIS COMMENT for a little interaction from Cuddle City's favorite (and only) Volunteer Representatives! As always, your mod team is here for you with answers to any questions you might have, whether related specifically to this event or the game in general. If you have any further questions specific to this event, we encourage you to ask away on our QUESTIONS COMMENT here in this post. If you have general questions, or prefer a more private venue, our GENERAL INBOX (and SCREENED INBOX) is always available for you. In addition, if you've got an idea for a future event, feel free to drop us a line at our EVENTS SUGGESTION POST. We hope you have fun out there — good, old fashioned, honest fun!

Comments

▸ QUESTIONS.

[cuddlemods]

RAISE YOUR HAND.

Any questions? We've (probably) got answers! If there's anything we can answer about this event, whether it's specific to your unique plotting dreams or more of a general gameplay inquiry, please don't hesitate to let us know! We know there's a lot to see and do, and we're here for you to make this event one from your wildest dreams... or not. Let us know, cuddlers! — xoxo The Cuddle City Mods

▸ CALL ME, BEEP ME.

[cuddlerep]

IF YOU WANT TO REACH ME.

Feeling chatty? We are too! While we may not be able to reply right away, we’ll be glad to chatter away when we’re back in the office! — xoxo Flora & Cornelius

isabelle lightwood, shadowhunters. ota!

[distractly]

▸ one.

( a small flex of fingers once they're free of the cloth that'd been wrapped to knuckles, stretching apart the ridges and hissing quietly between her teeth at the split that's occurred betwixt two. she hadn't brought her stele ( really, she hasn't used it much since she's gotten to cadelle ), so it looks like the ache residing between the digits would find home there for awhile. if you'd of asked her, she doesn't particularly mind the persistent gloom the city's been spelled with, an all too familiar reminder of the city streets in which she'd came, glancing up at the light-splintering night sky as she steps out of sucker punch, just in time for the tiny buzz that takes to her phone—a second bell chime echoing amongst quiet surroundings.

it's an addition to the broadcast that'd come on in the small tv perched at the far end of the gym, a cocktail of warnings and giggles in between static. truth rain? oh, how new york city could use one of those. the streets still gleamed with puddles, some little nooks even taken to flooding—it isn't out of naivety nor inconsideration that she finally steps out beneath the drizzle, duffel slung over her shoulder with locks pulled up into a pony. she's got to get back to her apartment somehow, doesn't she?

she's always enjoyed a walk—and as for worrying about the little honesty serum laced within those miniature droplets, isabelle was nothing if not an honest girl. it's a late hour, chances of running into another were slim, and if she did... well, none knew much of the very things about her she'd rather keep beneath her tongue. )

▸ two.

( cadelle was... a chance at something she should've done more for the first time. a chance to bring back countless lives that'd been purposefully lost to the hand of hatred, an attack against her own kind, her own people. a means of writing something so incredibly wrong that'd brought injustice to the shadowhunter world, that'd struck fear in it's inhabitants—the city and the institute alike—that never should've reached their bones in the first place. she couldn't tell you how many times she's ended up standing in that grand shower, single palm placed against the smooth stone of the wall, staring at the marbled colors within it til her flesh recognized like a knife that the water had run cold. frigid, even, leaving her trembling and blinking away haunting thoughts.

the familiar patter of the water around her ankles is cut off, pressing back her hair and wringing it out over one shoulder. it's a daze in which she slips from masqued door, towels off and slips into her favored robe. she can still hear the rain cascading down atop her apartments roof, the flares of light that envelope her livingroom while she makes way to her kitchen to steep a tea.

she isn't expecting company, phone left just a few feet atop the counter where it's been for a majority of the day. nothing like a rainy night indoors, no? )

uno

[perro]

Oye, mamí — wait up!

( surprise, surprise, guess who's also leaving sucker punch? rene, obviously, considering he basically lives there. he exits a bit less gracefully, moreso bursting out of the front doors and practically jogging to catch up with her.

he hadn't seen her during his daily training regimen — not during lifting weights, not during core exercises, not during his standard round of beating the shit out of his chosen punching bag — but that's probably because of the indeterminate time he'd lost in the locker room shower afterwards. it was the kind of shower a person can lose themselves completely in, water so hot that it scalds as it rushes over his skin, steam fogging up his brain, finding comfort in the discomfort of it all.

all he'd needed was a glimpse of the swish of her long ponytail as she exited the gym to know it was isabelle.

it's only once rene catches up to her and catches his breath that he acknowledges the rain, looks up at the sky with a furrowed brow. so much for that long ass shower he just took; wild dog's currently more wet dog than anything. )

Some weather. ( which, if he had his phone turned on — and if it were maybe shoved somewhere else rather than somewhere in the bottom of the gym bag slung over his shoulder, he'd already know about. )

[distractly]

( it's a voice some small knot within her chest recognizes before she does, in full coherency, fingers raveled about her bag at the front of her shoulder clasping a little tighter as she pauses. thick lashes squint over her hues as she makes out his figure in the rain, lifting free hand to press back the stray, black tendrils that've clung in swirls about her temples. it didn't surprise her, both seeing him coming from that gym and realizing they'd both been within it's confines. it wasn't a big place, but when they both had their own individual worlds to slip to, it never really felt that way.

a snicker, more or less swallowed by the chorus of the rain now falling around them. it wasn't angered to the point where it created a burden in making him out, now that he was closer, but slowly bit by bit she could feel the slight chill of the water soaking into her sports bra, matching shorts now both darker in hue. ) I never minded a little rain.

( a little would be a vast understatement- really she's lost track of how many days it's been, now, but that seems to be a common theme with or without the gloom of weather. ) There was some kind of broadcast sent to our phones. To stay inside? ( tone suggests she isn't aware of exactly why the city's suggested such a thing, but he doesn't seem to hold any form of panic, either. an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, doesn't it? )

un

[amarillos]

[there weren't evil aliens hell-bent on world domination here, no krispy kremes to waste days on, and despite her love for early morning tai chi, there was only so much of that that trini could stand before needing to do something to fill up her excess of time. yeah, sure, she could consider finding a real job, or maybe taking a class or two. there were no doubt plenty available at the local university, but today was a day for some quiet introspection and overly loud music and possibly a run. she's at the very least appropriately dressed for the weather — yellow hood pulled over and drawstrings tugged tightly to keep out the damp.

trini's missed out on the very important news that the rain's coming down aren't exactly typical. if she had, perhaps she'd have reconsidered a trek out into this seemingly neverending drizzle. maybe she'd have grabbed a takeout menu from her stack at home and ordered in to have herself a merry little movie marathon. but no, she'd ventured outside.

she's rounding the corner, head nodding along to the sounds of her current workout playlist — loud and angry to some but surprisingly soothing to her — when she bumps shoulders with someone heading the other direction. trini rubs away the stinging sensation as she stops right in the middle of the sidewalk.

never one to be afraid to speak her mind, she grumbles out her frustration with the passerby.]

Hey! What's the big idea?

[distractly]

( the mentality she'd slipped to within sucker punch had been dazed enough, something that long past extended throughout the familiar walk back to her apartment. there's nothing to say how many time she's taken that route, at all hours of the day and night such as the current evening. whatever sort of reasoning there was to stay indoors during the current ever-lingering of rain, she couldn't very well do so until she was home.

gym bag is kept in a perch over her shoulder, jostled a little as is her frame when she's met with the collision of a frame just a bit more petite than hers, breath taken from the bed of her lungs in a rather aggressive pull. it's more rattling than anything, tugging her from that dizzied layer of consciousness and back to the crispness of the present. an apology gathers at the heart of her tongue, yet it's withheld as reflex is interrupted by a rather mouthy snap from the girl now countering her, earbuds in place and scowl ridden along features.

a tuft of her own brows, smiling a little despite the brash comment. always too kind, isabelle. ) It's a bad habit, running with your head down.

Not that I imagine there's many threats in a place like this.

two.

[killertrack]

[ Baby can hear, from the other side of the front door, when the shower stops. He leans against the doorframe, feeling heavy in a way he's not used to - more than the usual weight of his own guilt bearing down on him, like the rain he ran through to get to Isabelle's is putting pounds on him.

He knocks on the door lightly, one, two, three, with one knuckle and little strength behind it. For a moment, he wonders if one day he'll have a key to this place, or if it's all pointless, and then he shakes the feeling. This is not why he's here.

He's here, because he got caught in a downpour, and he stood there under the rain, head tilted to it, the rapid fire of the drops making his eyes close, and he thought, there and then, I love her.

He reaches down for his iPod, clicking the wheel a few times until the right song starts playing in his ears. A raindrop rolls down his nose as he knocks again, just to let Isabelle know she didn't dream the noise the first time around, just in case. ]

[distractly]

( and she does believe she's imagined it, the lithe knock at her front door—hardly pronounced and light in it's confidence, echoing through her apartment like a question. but then it comes again, a little more precise, a little more there; it's a brief trail of thoughts that brings his features to mind, and it only encourages the warm smile that pulls to her lips all the more the moment door's opened.

it fades, if only slightly, as she takes in his state-clothes clung to his lean figure, raindrops dripping from the tip of his nose, stumbling across plush lips as if in begging to be kissed. ) Hey, Baby. ( a term of adoration and a name all in one, clicking her tongue and stepping forward to take his hand, all to tug him inside with her. )

You're going to catch a cold. Didn't you get the broadcast? ( she'd caught the end of it on her way out of the gym, but hadn't exactly considered that standing beneath that shower put her in the same position. )

derek hale • ota

[duelo]

BUSINESS AS USUAL

This place has been good for Derek. He likes to think he's learning to be more open and honest. He likes to think that he's allowing himself to trust people again, even if a little bit at a time and not without some discretion. Back home, even when things had gotten a little better with McCall's pack accepting him as a (tertiary)
part of it, Derek was still pretty guarded and silently lonely. Here, he's been trying to make some friends and willing himself to look past the fact that beautiful women, in his experience, are as dangerous as they are nice to look at. Hell, he even went to that ball. Derek is trying to turn over a new leaf and be a new person in this new place.

So, the last thing he really needs is for a simple rain shower to turn him into the lonesome, brooding sad sack he's been hiding underneath a charming smile and a forced sociability that he keeps hoping will stick. He wasn't always sad. He wasn't always lonely. Once upon a time, he used to be a happy person. Once upon a time, Derek had been a self-assured, charming, maybe a little arrogant, extroverted guy. ...and then that had gotten his girlfriend killed. And his then his family. ...and then, when he'd tried to reclaim it with the power of a stolen Alpha spark, the small pack he'd created. Eventually, life conditioned him to keep to himself — Derek used to tell himself that it was because other people liked it better that way.

All of his hard work is about to come screeching to a halt thanks to a little fall of rain washing away the progress he forces on himself and reminding him that, deep down, he's a packless, loveless, family-less werewolf who only ever manages to get the people he cares about hurt. He'll have to apologize for his brooding downturn of mood later.

STAYING IN

Derek's opted to stay at the Sunset Inn while looking for other housing. After being washed out of the welcome apartment and talking to Kara some, he's started to think that maybe it's just a sign that he should get his own place. Kara made him feel better about staying where he'd been, but the longer he'd been in the hotel, the more time he'd had to think and the damage is probably not really worth repairing. It's not like he had a whole lot of material belongings, anyway.

A little rain isn't going to keep him indoors entirely, so he's out and about, but not excessively so. After being out, Derek returns to the Sunset Inn and, rather than holing himself away in his room right away, decides to see if there's anything else he can do to pass the time a little less anti-socially. He can't help thinking that the weather is perfect for staying in with a loved one, but the problem is that, well. Technically, Derek hasn't really got anyone. Options, sure. Interests, absolutely. But actual official someone or someones? Not so much.

So pardon him while he wistfully watches any other couples he happens to see wandering around the hotel while he attempts to live vicariously. It's safer that way. For everyone, probably.

staying in

[gr8muppetyodin]

The Sunset Inn had been an interesting choice for Buffy. It was as much for Vasquez's benefit as it was for hers. The Californian native had wanted to be near the ocean, take advantage of the beachside location. The lack of wifi though? That was a challenge for someone trying to come up to speed with almost two decades of music, TV, movies and technology. She couldn't even remember how she'd lived with a phone without video. She'd also only just seen the beginning of Netflix now there was just so much to watch.

But in this hotel? Well, she had to 'slum it' with DVDs and Blu-Ray (she was sure Xander would have appreciated the later more than she did. Honestly, was there really a difference?). Not that she really minded. Anything was a step up from the well-worn VHS tapes of ice-skating movies she'd had back in Sunnydale.

She'd also seen the warnings of the rain, knew the dangers in venturing out to the ocean, so she was forced to wander around. Vasquez had been braver than she. She was happy to wait until her shifts started at The Deviant. God only knew how things were going to go once she and Faith were both doused with truth water.

But she couldn't exactly avoid a shower, and she didn't want to avoid water or coffee. So she just hoped for the best. At least this way it might mean she controlled her ability to talk way too much. Right? She had to think like Vasquez and just limit her words. It wasn't like she knew another language well enough to go down that route.

She paused on one of her laps of the hotel as she came across Derek, nose scrunched in thought. Did she dare offer company? "Hey, mind if I interrupt the deep thoughts?"

[duelo]

At the sound of a voice addressing him rather than just the footsteps circling the area, Derek looks up. Before he can stop himself, the words tumble from his mouth. "Please do, I need the interruption more than I'd like to admit."

...the hell was that about?

His expression sours with the confusion of the confession, however mild, he'd given unwittingly. Derek clears his throat. "I mean, sure. Go for it."

business as usual

[made_of_stars]

Jyn's lonely.

And the thing is - the feeling isn't something that she is unused to, but sometimes, it tends to surface at the most inopportune times. She'd only just begun getting used to the idea of maybe having found a home and - and ... some weird, cobbled-together little bunch of people that she could call friends or more and ...

Then, she'd woken up here, alone again, naturally.

It would figure that on the day she finally decides to get out and do a little exploration, the sky opens and the rain pours down, soaking her to the bone in minutes. It would figure that in the midst of her annoyance and in an attempt to see again, since her hair is plastered to her face and it's taking some effort to wipe it away, she barrels right into something or someone, forcing her to take a few unbalanced steps backward.

"What next?", she practically growled, at nothing and nobody in particular, except maybe Cadelle itself, her expression dark. "Are you enjoying torturing me?"

scott mccall | ota.

[puppypower]

[he'd gotten soaked. though to his credit, that hadn't been his fault. at the time the warnings had gone out to the city, scott had been elbow deep in a tub of soapy water, all but wrestling with a mud-covered dog in his attempts at trying to clean the canine. with all the damage the city had undergone with the earthquake, he'd been helping out on the other side of the animal shelter more often as of late. today had just happened to be the day he'd drawn the short straw and got left on clean up duty. and combined with just how wet its been out there for the past couple of days, that duty involves a lot of mud.

it's after the dog is dried off and put away that scott finally has a chance to dry himself off again. to get changed and collect his things from his locker. hoodie on and (borrowed) rain mac in place, he finally has the opportunity to check his phone. and that's when he sees it. when he finally discovers--

...ah.

one horrifying admission of how deep his concerns lie for a certain werecoyote who could very well be trapped out there in this (no it isn't puppy love, stop calling it that, mrs murphy) and a goodbye later, and scott is finally out of the door. and hating every moment of it. if he's honest (which is a little harder to contend with than normal right now) he knows that he should really just head back to the hotel and lock himself in his room. if all of this is true, there's a lot he really shouldn't be talking to anybody about right now. hiding what he is, hiding what he's thinking about each time he talks to one of the (far too attractive) people in this city is hard enough as it is. having that barrier weakened is only going to make it that much harder.

which is why, when he marches his way from the shelter and to the grocery store, he keeps his head down. why his lips are pressed tightly closed and his earbuds are in. with the music up loud, it's easier to ignore the people around him.

or at least it would be if--]

...people really need to wash their hands after they jerk off.

[...because it stinks. and...he really didn't mean to say that out loud. or, later in the grocery store--]

Chocolates won't work, so...maybe steak?

[or later still--]

Seriously. How are they all so hot?!



[ooc: i'm currently still on holiday right now, so don't expect any replies until the end of the month. just a heads up.]

[wildkingdom]

[Said werecoyote also happened to get completely drenched because when the warning went out she was in coyote form, going for a run on the other side of the city. She gets back to her communicator, sees the bulletin, and shrugs it off. Whatever. Weird shit happens in Cadelle all the time.

After she gets dressed and makes her way across town, she starts to notice how forthcoming people are being. And how she's being a little more blunt than usual. And that she's saying things she normally wouldn't say at all. And that's when she starts to panic. Normally Malia isn't a girl with that many secrets - she thinks it, she says it, that is her way - but she's currently harboring a fairly large secret from Scott. One that she's pretty sure he's gonna hate her for.

(It's a dumb reason to hate her, and maybe a Malia once upon a time, would have told him as much, but Malia once upon a time isn't Malia now, who has so many unsaid things to say to Scott, and now of all times isn't the time to spill them.)

So she books it home, hoping that she might make it there without running into him but low and behold, blocking the entrance to the stairs is Scott McCall, in all his puppy faced glory, and while she tries to be casual, she fails and says the blunt thing instead:]

I can't talk to you right now.

vasquez | ota

[quinientos]

i. a smoke while being soaked and on the way to broke(n)

[The trouble that Vasquez has with the future is that too often, he doesn't pay attention to things like his phone or the technology or the ditzy woman on the news who talks about things. So when he sees water, he sees water. He's heading to work and there's a rain that seems to seep into his skin. By the time he reaches the shooting range, his sweater is wet, he's blowing his nose, and his hair is tamped down.

When one of the girls at the front desk notes that he looks terrible, he doesn't hesitate.]

Maybe I look bad, but you still look hungover from yesterday. Not a good picture, with the makeup.

[It's not exactly how he usually speaks to people. It's not completely out of the ordinary, but usually he's not so honest unless she's drinking. She huffs and storms off (probably for a drink, he's noticed her habits), but she does take the time to throw a towel at Vasquez, smacking him dead in the face. He pries it from her and starts to dry himself off, easing it away to find someone new standing in the foyer.]

Here for a lesson?

ii. the best word in the english (or other) language

[It's not been a good day.

Somehow, after being soaked up in the rain, he'd found out that it made you tell the truth, put out your heart and soul and honesty for everyone to see. For a while, Vasquez had paid the price, babbling at the gun range to anyone who would listen about his past troubles and what he'd done, little secrets, and even stupid little personal preferences that he doesn't like to share.

After a bad shift, he wanted a drink very much, and it's when the bartender asks him a pointed question about how his day has been that Vasquez thinks that he's got a loophole.]

Ha sido terrible,.

[He maligns his luck in Spanish and sounds miserable for it, thinking that he might be telling the truth, but now, less people will know it. The bartender gives him a funny look, but sets his tequila on the rocks down in front of him, which Vasquez is pleased to see. When he sees a shadow looming, he scowls into the drink, not sure he wants to deal with this.]

It's not a good time.

ii.

[nursetemple]

[ It's been... a day, for Claire. The rain and its levels of miserable had made people walk into the hospital more readily, complaining about everything under the sun and suddenly turning out so truthful about everything, from their small niggles to their broken marriages. Nothing Claire really wanted to be a part of, basically.

And that? She found herself telling people, instead of keeping it to herself as she usually would. Which led to arguments, hurt feelings, and even almost a fistfight, at some point.

Really, Claire is done with today, and she wants - and deserves - a drink, and so she goes and get one. When she finds herself sitting next to Vasquez, it's not even on purpose, because she isn't much in the mood, either. But she orders a Lagavulin and sits, ignoring his complaining as she replies in Spanish. ]

I'm not even here to talk to you, Vasquez. Just want a drink.

kimberly hart • see prompts.

[recoined]

☁ open | city-wide.

( the first waves of rainshowers roll in, bringing with them gloomy grey skies and air thickened with humidity, and for once, cadelle almost feels like home. the first few days feel like fall along the coast, and if she closes her eyes just so, she can almost taste the salt on her tongue. on one overcast afternoon, a run along the boardwalk brings her to a fishmonger's stand, and the scent of fresh-caught halibut nearly brings her to a standstill.

she's not homesick. there's nothing in angel grove that ever felt like home.

but the sensation — and the surprising sadness that comes with it — lingers all the same, leaving her a little breathless, and even kimberly has to admit to the betrayal of moisture pooling in her eyes before she grits her teeth and pushes forward. this time, her route veers away from the familiar; she opts instead to loop back through the center of town, even if it means she'll be out much later than she meant to be.

a few scattered showers turns to consistent downpours, and with the change, the cloud coverage dampens more than just the grass and grounds. it leaves kimberly feeling a bit under the weather, too, her mood leaning more towards quiet malcontent with each passing day; by the middle of the week, an off-the-cuff comment from a student in her zumba class — you know, i thought this was supposed to be hard — almost sends her into a mean girl meltdown.

almost. she manages to bite down the urge to say exactly what could be hard for said student, even if it does leaving her feel a bit sick to her stomach... at least until she's (supposedly) alone in the locker room and less likely to cause a scene. it's probably better that way. she kind of likes her job, even if that student is a particularly annoying pain in her ass.

which maybe explains the distracted look in her eyes now, as she stands in line at the grocery store, flipping through the pages of a particularly thick glossy magazine. it's the kind that's more advertising than articles, one that smells vaguely of a high-end perfume, and based on the way kimberly's fingers idly skim along the edges of the pages, one that's going to be well worn by the end of the night. in front of her on the belt? all the trappings of a good, old-fashioned self-care night: ice cream, candles, a particularly fragrant bottle of bubble bath, and an unreasonably large bag of sweet cherries. don't ask.

really, please don't, or you might just get a snappy reply back. nobody said honesty had to be nice. )

☁ closedish | the barbie house

( by the time she gets home, kimberly's done with people. the urge to bite her tongue has left her feeling vaguely hungover, a headache that won't go away no matter how many candy-coated aspirins she swallows pressing at her temples, and she's not sure just how much more she can take. which might explain why her clothes from the day find themselves in a pile on the floor near the front door, black lycra and the telltale gleam of pink — this time, a rosewood-colored tank top, mottled and soaked through from the rain — pooled over her now-wet sneakers well before she even crosses through the living room.

by the time clary or anyone else puts their key into the front door, the once damp trail of footprints from door to door have long since dried, leaving only the slightest shimmer in their wake as a clue to their origins. it's only the sound of singing coming from behind the closed door to the bathroom, the occasional melody of splashing in tune, and the familiar — if not worrisome — scent of a long-burnt hydrangea and cherry blossom candle in the air that signals just what kind of evening kimberly hart has had so far.

take me to church, indeed. )

[made_of_stars]

one;; going out

As if the temporary change of location hadn't been disruptive enough, now there were rainstorms to worry about. And it wasn't as though Jyn hadn't found herself in worse situations, she was just frustrated, because of course she'd get caught in a storm on the day that she'd finally decided to get out and do something, even if all that entailed was walking around Cadelle in an attempt to get her bearings.

So now, thanks to the sudden shower, Jyn found herself soaking to the bone. Which was absolutely perfect. She'd just have to cut her self-guided tour short for the time being, head back to the hotel, and get dry.

Her plans would have to wait for another day entirely. She huffed out a frustrated breath as she pushed sodden hair out of her eyes, and muttered under her breath - "What else could go wrong?"

ii;; staying in

Jyn had woken up to the sound of rain pattering against the window of her hotel room, somewhat disappointed that the tentative plans she'd made to finally get out and explore had to be put on hold. She wasn't interested in getting soaked, after all, and it wasn't like she had an umbrella or even a poncho among her meager belongings ... most of which were still located in an apartment she wasn't even staying in at the moment.

She'd just have to stay in, again. With a sigh, she flopped back on the (still too) comfortable bed and held her CuddlePhone aloft, considering.

Eventually ...

Text ; UN: stardust

is anyone in the vicinity of the central suites?

Jyn was bored. Maybe she'd get lucky and find someone to be bored with. A girl could hope.

one

[quinientos]

He's not looking where he's going, which is why he ends up backing right up into someone else, cursing the whole time he does. He's been cursing at someone because he wound up having to be honest with them about what he thought of their idiot pants, but now he's narrowly avoided a fight (not a good start to today) and ended up colliding with someone because he wasn't looking (worse continuation).

Grimacing, he turns to find a somewhat familiar face, though maybe not entirely with the hair the way it is. "Sorry," he says, brusque but sincere enough. "I wasn't exactly looking where I was going." Irritably, he curses the plaid, awful trousers that had made him nearly use his lasso on someone, but who goes out in public willfully looking so awful? Also, why is this rain making him so loose with his opinions?

That's something even more to worry about.

kate galloway. closed to will.

[dedikated]

kate's place/ finally, i coughed up some awful information that i thought up

( The letter burns a figurative hole in her pocket, stashed on a shelf in the small studio apartment, just waiting to be used. Kate tells herself that she only needs a few days, needs to get affairs in order - tell Good Vibrations they need a new staff member, things like that. Admin stuff, really. After what feels like all too long, she has what she wanted.

A second chance to save Marc. To be the kind of big sister he deserved in the first place.

Just... a few more days. That's all. She needs to go back to a place where she knows what she's meant to be, what she's meant to do.

And then the rains come. Cold and shimmering and so, so strange. They loosen her tongue at work, to customers and manager alike, but they're ultimately harmless as long as conversation remains light. That part? Seems pretty easy to do in this city. She can't complain. Cadelle, and Eudio before it, have given her the freedom to live without the weight that comes from her life back home. Being friendly to people may have been harder than Kate anticipated when she's stuck alone, but as far as prices to pay go-

It's far too easy. She still wonders if they're not lying to her, somehow. Or that this isn't some dream concocted by her mind in desperation. A fantasy.

For now, though, there's just a few more days. For now, she's cold and damp and freshly home from a shift at work, her fingertips brushing the ends of Will's hair thoughtlessly as she bypasses the couch and heads towards the bathroom door. )

Shower.

( It doesn't sound much like an invitation, but maybe-

She only has a few more days here. She may as well enjoy them. )

[novacaine]

( it's a good thing that kate has a nicer apartment than will does, because once they get that whole "hey, stay the fuck inside or else you'll start saying embarrassing shit to people" message relayed to their phones, will takes that as a sign from god or whoever to cancel the two guitar lessons he was supposed to be giving down at b-sides today and remain holed up at hers. hey, he's just like, looking out for his students.

kate is, of course, adamant about going to work either way because who cares about that stupid fucking rain, but that's okay. he can lay on her couch all day like a kid who faked sick to stay home from school, a blanket lazily strewn over him as he watches the price is right and other winning daytime tv shows.

when that telltale sound of keys in the lock and the creak of the door opening hits his ears, will's sitting up in a heartbeat, dopey smile on his face as her fingers card through his hair as she passes behind him. shower. shower. right, okay, he can do that. just like he can yank his faded t-shirt over his head and leave it discarded on the floor in the living room somewhere as will trails behind kate like a lost puppy dog.

there's a lazy smile, an equally lazy brush of lips against pink hair, and: ) Hi.

jace herondale; ota

[obdurates]

↪ when it feels like the world's gone mad

( what is, by definition, the truth? the absence of a lie? the telling of a fact? if a fact becomes a lie, then where did that leave everything? philosophical ramifications aren't a subject worth tackling; cadelle, thus far, provided the ability to untangle himself from an expertly woven netting of deceit. mind games deployed by valentine; some far reaching, ready to burst years after their initial set up. justification sufficient to explain why weather that compels people towards sharing and honesty may leave him terrified. not for the secrets jace's aware of. the ones lingering at the recess of his mind, dormant, potentially brought to the surface by the rain, are the most unsettling.

staying inside doesn't come as a viable option; it isn't in his nature. too many memories of being locked inside that cabin, unable to leave, subjected to things best left forgotten. the downpour has shifted, now a fine drizzle, yet somehow carrying a heavier weight than the floods. the 'could haves' were on loop; could have stayed with clary, watching the terrible movies she liked...or gone to alec and izzy, let the familial and parabatai bonds provide an unbreakable shelter. too risky. not with a mental warhead itching for the chance to drop.

maybe you'll find him at deja brew. he's easy to spot; parked at one of the window seats, damp strands of blonde hair plastered to his face, a leather jacket spread out across the table, and an untouched cup of tea sat in front. the place is a far cry from the hunter's moon, somewhere he didn't anticipate he would miss this much, but he doesn't look unapproachable, just a little gloomy.

later on, he's wandered to a place that those who know him may adamantly proclaim jace would never go. the public library holds an allure of its own in the solitude and quiet; odds of an unwanted confession passing his lips greatly reduced. a large oak table serves as a temporary home; books stacked to his left side, head resting against one hand as he gazes down at the count of monte cristo, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. )

[gr8muppetyodin]

[ Her plan to stay cooped up only lasted so long. Especially when Buffy was needed at work. She had tried to be ready as early as possible, planning the coffee run to coincide with one of the rare breaks in the rain. The water in the shower was unavoidable, and it would be the same with the water in the coffee, but at least she could pretend by asking for extra syrup and plenty of milk.

Halfway to Deja Brew though it started to rain and the blonde was soaked by the time she made it. She had managed to hold an umbrella for all of five minutes but the stupid thing had blown inside out and she'd tossed it in the nearest trash can. With a huff and trying to shake off some of the water like a dog, she pushed her way into the cafe.

It was only after she was holding her coffee that she noticed Jace, and she smiled as she came over to him, even as she kept pushing her wet hair back. ]

Hey, what could have been. [ Goddamn this rain. ] Still hot and broody? We really need to find an excuse to go ice-skating again.

[recoined]

( who leaves the house willingly in the rain when there are cozy warm baths to be taken instead? not kimberly hart, that's for damn sure. )

are you dead?
i haven't seen you sprawled out on my couch in days, must be a new record