high-functioning [c]

i used to dream in the dark of palisades park

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high-functioning [c]

POSTED ON Apr 17, 2020 2:34:22 GMT

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He's noticed the pretty girl with the messy cursive writing, he's noticed the way her wrist bends to loop her letters together. He notices a lot of things, because that's what he's here to do.[break][break]

Of course, by the time she approaches him, he's noticed that some poor teenage boy has put his shirt on inside out and a group of pretty girls has noticed it. They cover their mouths as they giggle and mock him, and the boy scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, oblivious to their mockery.[break][break]

The sun had begun to veer below the horizon and the temperature had dropped with it. Like clockwork or routine, Matthew finds himself mindlessly pacing the same street, his boots crunching gravel between the pavement and the rubber of his soles. He clears his throat and suddenly his hand is pushing open the door to the same damn bar that he'd visited for nights on end.[break][break]

Leonard raises a couple fingers in greeting and Matt nods half-heartedly before sliding into his seat. It's already warm which mildly disturbs him, but he doesn't have the energy to move off of it. [break][break]

Instead, Leonard pushes him a tall glass of beer across the smooth countertop and Matthew's hand holds onto it. He leans back then, exhaling a deep sigh through his nose and closing his eyes as the sound of the bar melds into white noise and he takes a sip of his drink. [break][break]

"Mmmm.. that's the stuff."

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[attr="class","notes"]notes: ...

[attr="class","tag"]Sierra Benoit

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high-functioning [c]

POSTED ON Apr 26, 2020 5:48:38 GMT

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she doesn't like to drink. [break][break]

it dulls her senses, drowns out what was happening around her, and made her so blissfully unaware of her position and surroundings. as far as she was concerned, that was dangerous. especially near the peak hours of the evening, where cars were home and families should be having dinner. save for the broken houses, where one or neither parents would be at the table with their children. save for the single adults, who took the night for themselves. save for her, who was dedicating her night to patrol the area and properly get a read on the situation. [break][break]

ever since the fall of rocket, the calls on petty crimes began to rise, oddly enough. were they the people who were lower in rocket, of which that couldn't make a decent wage or living? were they the ones at the bottom of the barrel, trying to scrape what they could only hope to get their hands on? were they guilty for what cards were handed to them? it mattered little to her: crimes were crimes, and it was still her job to patrol and apprehend who she could, when she could (but the nights were growing so bland, so stale. there was a part of her that wished for something to happen to brea her out of the comfortable and peaceful loop she's grown used to).[break][break]

... she should be patrolling, that is. [break][break]

unfortunately, she was called off for the night. someone else had taken her shift, and she couldn't complain about it. she was told that she overworked herself too much, or something along the lines. that she would be given a new mission soon, and that she would have to be on standby and ready, if not prime and alert. she couldn't be doing that if she were out and about, later into the night. still, old habits died hard, and her heels took her to a bar that she often passed by. the irony of it all. [break][break]

she walks in, tired. it'd been years since she last had a drink, and she wasn't fond of getting back into a successfully broken habit. thankfully, the sight of a familiar face is enough to break her from whatever temptation the alcohol might have dangled in front of her. sierra slowly walks up to the man in his seat, taking one of the stools next to him, and gently taps the surface of the bar. "griffiths", she greets, though less friendly with the chilling tone underlying it. [break][break]

"you are off duty?"

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POSTED ON Apr 28, 2020 21:24:54 GMT

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Matthew crunches another peanut shell between his fingers as someone new enters the bar. He doesn't look up from his drink because it's after 5 o'clock and it's expected that customers will be stopping by. [break][break]

What does surprise him, however, is the familiar voice of Miss Sierra Holmes over his shoulder. Her tone isn't particularly warm but it isn't surprising, so he takes no mind. Instead, he glances at her briefly, flashing her a smile, before taking another sip of his drink.[break][break]

"Yes, ma'am. You?"[break][break]

He's genuinely surprised to see her. For one thing, he had never known her to drink. She didn't seem the type and he had never seen her here and he frequented the joint quite regularly. But the second was that she normally worked nights - or at the very least, not the same shifts he did. Matthew rarely ever saw her.[break][break]

"This doesn't seem your style - but it is nice to see you, Holmes."

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[attr="class","notes"]notes: ...

[attr="class","tag"]Sierra Benoit

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