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the tear inside my soul | c

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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abby, lady taipan
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32 years old
November 4th
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scientist
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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Absinthe Blackwood
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Oct 4, 2024 6:02:37 GMT
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the snake pit and the tormented soul that runs it is known to few members of decent society, but a harbor for the lost and broken. tonight's a quiet one, though most nights are. those who work up the courage to visit this den of iniquity do so with determination in their eyes and a glint of something malicious in their hearts.[break][break]

on this particularly miserable stretch of a miserable week, the place is barely churning out a pulse, a fact that the deathly quiet chemicals (rotting on their shelves in apology for ever having been created) begrudgingly make up for. there's no one to dance to the tune of their siren song, no one to succumb to the undercurrent of viper poison that pervades the atmosphere, leaking from the dark oak of the floorboards and sweating down the swampy green walls, slippery like bog leaves.[break][break]

there is only absinthe, mistress of the snake pit herself, long, talented fingers clutched delicately around a glass. she gazes deeply into its surface, as though trying to find some lost, drowned wisdom or prophecy in the alcohol that soaks its sides. what she wouldn't give for the simplicity of hearing fortunes in the quiet chime of clinking glasses, or tasting fate on her tongue in the filthy floorboards of her late-night establishment.[break][break]

instead, there's only silence, a drunk vampire's giggle as he leeches onto his numbed companion, a rustle of hair as someone ducks through the exit, beads jangling as they go.[break][break]

a suffocating sense of loneliness pervades, unnoticed by the scant few castaways dragged in by the tide and deposited on its shore. a strange feeling of something insidious, festering below deck. they are not alone in this feeling, for absinthe has felt it since university.[break][break]

'tis comforting to her. the rabble wouldn't get it.



[break][break]

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ranya

lavi, attie
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Petalburg City, Hoenn
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Civilian
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5'5'' / 165 cm height
5'5'' / 165 cm height
let no one think of me as humble or weak or passive; let them understand i am of a different kind.
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Lavinia Kubrick
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 6, 2024 3:39:10 GMT
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Lavinia Kubrick has never been the type to run away — whether literally or figuratively —, unlike her younger sisters; one runs away into the wild and the other into delusions, while she stays right where she's always been. Someone has to be steadfast in this goddamn family, and of course she's the one who rises up to the task. She's always the one who rises up to the fucking task. Briefly, she wonders whether those two brats have any idea how much it costs her, but of course they don't. Making her hard work seem effortless is the whole damn point, or else —

[break][break]

None of that matters right now, though. She's miles away from the Kubrick household, and thank the holy goat for that. Which does not mean that she's running away, thank you very much. All it means is that she's investing into her future by checking out the university she will soon be attending. Hopefully she'll get the opportunity to network, too.

[break][break]

Not that this is a good place to do it. Even from across the street, Lavinia can tell that the "Snake Pit" is a shitty bar if she's ever seen one; definitely not the sort of place that anyone reputable would frequent. In keeping with that fact, she would usually turn her nose up and walk away without another glance, but... This is the big city, it's well past her usual curfew, and she is nineteen. She might as well live a little, even if it means going to an establishment that her mother wouldn't approve of. What the eyes don't see, the heart can't feel.

[break][break]

She crosses the street and enters the Snake Pit with the same decisive manner as always, to find it... Completely empty save for the bartender. Oh, so it sucks even more than she thought. For a split second she reconsiders, but she marched in with such confidence to her step that it would be downright embarrassing to turn back. There's nothing to do but keep walking.

[break][break]

"Evening," she says upon reaching the counter. One glance around the place was enough to tell her that anybody working here doesn't give a damn about checking her age, and anyway she looks mature. She thinks. "Could I have a look at the menu?"



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sunny.html

abby, lady taipan
she/her
32 years old
November 4th
slateport
bisexual
bar owner, drug manufacturer
scientist
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
awards
351 posts
part of
TAG WITH @absinthe
Absinthe Blackwood
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 6, 2024 6:26:41 GMT
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absinthe cannot help but to watch with curious eyes, lifted head, as the newcomer walks in. not many come this way. in fact, not many have come this way in quite a long time. a pair of patrons left shortly before this newcomer walked in, arms slung around each other and eyes glazed. they left their tab open. they never closed it. she didn't even have to ask them to leave. they staggered out like they were caught in a daze. she does that to people.[break][break]

absinthe had watched them through half-closed eyes, as she does to anyone who stumbles in. she watched, she always watches, because she must keep up with the going-ons, make sure no one touches anything valuable, anything dangerous. but she won't follow them when they leave, because she can't.[break][break]

she does not think she can go out into the sunlight anymore. she's grown paler with each passing day, like something slowly draining away, and the idea of stepping outside fills her with dread. that's what happens when one has spent too much time lurking in their own shadows, she thinks, but it doesn't make her feel any less sick to her stomach when she ponders on it.[break][break]

but this newcomer, they bring a change. they don't look like a drifter, a lost soul seeking a moment of silence in a place of emptiness, a place where sins and whispers die in corners. this is a young girl, well-to-do, probably a student — something in her posture and her speech and the way she holds herself says so. what could have drawn her here? curiosity? boredom? an adventure outside of her gilded cage? absinthe is honestly not sure.[break][break]

worst of all, she looks familiar, in an annoying sort of way.[break][break]

the mention of a menu leads absinthe to shake her head, a sneer crinkling the space between her brows. "no menu," she returns. "just ask for what you want."[break][break]

a beat, and absinthe's eyes grow more severe.[break][break]

"and do it quickly."



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NOTES


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ranya

lavi, attie
she/her
Nineteen
July 2
Petalburg City, Hoenn
pansexual
Aspiring scientist
Civilian
dangerous
to my enemies, loyal to my friends.
5'5'' / 165 cm height
5'5'' / 165 cm height
let no one think of me as humble or weak or passive; let them understand i am of a different kind.
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TAG WITH @lavinia
Lavinia Kubrick
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 7, 2024 6:23:20 GMT
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i have a heart of stone and iron; i will be called[break]fortunate, and my head will be crowned with stars.

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Now that she has walked as far as the counter, Lavinia can truly appreciate just how miserably cramped the Snake Pit is. Aside from the bar, there are only three booths and a grand piano, the latter of which seems bizarrely out of place. It's obvious that there's no live music here, and she would expect the owner's priority to be fitting more seats in the limited space. And yet, there that unwieldy instrument is anyways.

[break][break]

Between this choice in interior decoration, the poor lighting and gloomy atmosphere, Lavinia is starting to think that the owner doesn't want customers.

[break][break]

Scratch that, actually. The owner definitely doesn't want customers. Her standards were low, but this is so bad it's almost impressive.

[break][break]

She's tempted to comply with the woman's unspoken wish, turn on her heel and leave the way she came. She might even have gone through with it, but the stranger makes the mistake of looking at her with severity. Oh, she can respect this lack of care on some level, she will admit. It's simultaneously comforting — she's not nearly as bad at customer service as she thought — and enviable. Yet the fact remains that no one but her mother gets to treat Lavinia like this.

[break][break]

She has half a mind to share her honest opinion on this shitty hole-in-the-wall that barely passes for an establishment, but the bartender clearly won't give a damn. As such, her only response is lifting a brow.

[break][break]

Not that she'll let this slide, but the best course of action is to be petty. She decides then and there to fuck around the bar for a solid hour. She won't delay ordering, as she could use the alcohol, but she'll make sure to take her sweet time consuming it. Maybe she'll even keep going until she's completely wasted.

[break][break]

Better start on that, then.

[break][break]

"Right," she replies curtly. "I'll have the strongest drink you've got."



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sunny.html

abby, lady taipan
she/her
32 years old
November 4th
slateport
bisexual
bar owner, drug manufacturer
scientist
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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Absinthe Blackwood
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 7, 2024 19:33:38 GMT
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the girl's response is a straight, hard stare. 'i'll have the strongest drink you've got.'[break][break]

absinthe's fingers tap twice upon the countertop—a brief flash of irritation—but the expression on her face does not change, as if chiseled from marble. ah. she's met this type before. a sharpness, a jaggedness, something not worn down by the world just yet. something... stubborn.[break][break]

the familiarity snags at her again. where has she seen this girl before? it's very important that she find out. but right now, the girl is waiting on her drink. she cannot ignore this request just yet.[break][break]

absinthe turns stiffly to a cabinet. it's darker here in the shadows of the bar, shelves crammed with dusty bottles of things that may or may not be potent, not that the girl would know. absinthe doesn't either, some of the time. but she pulls down a bottle coated in cobwebs and dust, old scotch — fifty years, it says. it's old enough to make a grown man feel like he's twenty-one again. she pours it into a glass. two fingers' worth. no ice. absinthe doesn't ask if that will be alright. it doesn't matter.[break][break]

the glass hits the counter with a decided click, just a little too hard. "that'll be seven fifty."



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played by

ranya

lavi, attie
she/her
Nineteen
July 2
Petalburg City, Hoenn
pansexual
Aspiring scientist
Civilian
dangerous
to my enemies, loyal to my friends.
5'5'' / 165 cm height
5'5'' / 165 cm height
let no one think of me as humble or weak or passive; let them understand i am of a different kind.
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TAG WITH @lavinia
Lavinia Kubrick
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 8, 2024 0:07:52 GMT
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i have a heart of stone and iron; i will be called[break]fortunate, and my head will be crowned with stars.

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Lavinia thought that the service here couldn't get any worse, but the owner outdoes herself yet again. She just pours the drink out and sets it down, without ice or even the offer of it, let alone the offer of filling the cup more. As a matter of fact, Lavi doesn't even know what has filled her cup, since the bartender didn't bother to say. The price tag, though, that she said; and she's far from cheap despite her awful manners. This place really is so bad as to be impressive.

[break][break]

What impresses her specifically is the fact that the Snake Pit is still open. Lavinia pauses halfway through reaching for her wallet as the puzzle pieces fall into place. Of course this is a front for crime. She's appalled at herself for taking several minutes to put something so simple, so thoroughly obvious, together. She pays the exact value owed without comment.

[break][break]

The teenager goes about putting her wallet away and using hand sanitizer before she lifts the glass off of the counter. The woman does not deserve thanks, and Lavinia suspects she won't miss them either.

[break][break]

This stuff had better be good enough to make up for... All the rest of this experience. It looks like whisky, so it should be strong as ordered. For all the owner's faults, underestimating a young client isn't one of them.

[break][break]

In spite — or maybe because — of the fact that she expects it'll burn going down, Lavinia downs the stuff in one go. It's exactly the sort of restorative she hoped it would be, she will give the woman that. Still, the glass hits the counter a little too hard one more time. Two can play at this little game, after all.

[break][break]

"I'll have two more doses," she says. Her tone is just this side of sardonic. "Put them on my tab for now. Assuming you work with tabs, that is."


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abby, lady taipan
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32 years old
November 4th
slateport
bisexual
bar owner, drug manufacturer
scientist
i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.
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TAG WITH @absinthe
Absinthe Blackwood
the tear inside my soul | c
POSTED ON Nov 16, 2024 23:18:04 GMT
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for all of her faults, if there is one thing about absinthe that is true and real, it is that she runs a damn good business.[break][break]

not the front-facing business, of course. no, never that. lavinia has picked up on this fact—the owner's manners leave much to be desired, and the small, cramped space of the snake pit offers an uneasy feeling to all who enter, as if the walls cave in around them, as if the bartender is sizing up her next meal. indeed, it would be a wonder that the building still stands, if not for the swinging kitchen doors in the back, promising anything but food. her open little secret, as obvious as it is unnerving.[break][break]

and it's also the reason nobody talks back to her. it's the reason nobody asks questions. why dare to anger the woman who pours your drinks?[break][break]

and though absinthe is in no dire need of extra cash, courtesy of her booming side hustle, she still knits her brows together when the teenager asks about a tab. it's almost laughable. many moons ago, somebody asked the very same thing in the very same chair, and absinthe responded in the very same way.[break][break]

"tabs imply a certain amount of trust," she says, teeth gritting against her tongue, hand tapping a tiny, idle pattern into the dingy bartop, "and i don't make a habit of trusting anybody who walks into this place."[break][break]

the second part goes unsaid: to find yourself in the snake pit is to find your life in shambles.[break][break]

though absinthe goes to pour another finger of scotch into her glass, she pauses right before the teakwood ambrosia can flow over the lip of the bottle, allowing her eyes to pierce the girl in front of her once more. "seven fifty."[break][break]

it is now, then, that absinthe finally realizes where she's seen this girl before. at least, where she's seen the same features. .[break][break]

absinthe's teeth bare beneath her mask. go fucking figure.



[break][break]

NOTES


- n/a






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MADE BY GUNSMILE




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