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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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š—¢š—£š—˜š—” š—¦š—§š—”š—„š—§š—˜š—„!ā€‹ā€‹ š—Ŗš—›š—”š—§: have a little buzzfeed unsolved quote starter in honour of spooky season with a little stompinā€™ grapes spin thrown in xĀ  š—Ŗš—›š—˜š—„š—˜: wherever grape merch can be purchasedĀ 
ā€œHe looks really happy, actually.ā€ Jaspar says to the person who appears alongside him at what must be the smallest table in the parking lot, as a hand reaches out to gesture at hat he can only assume must be a figurine of the Stompin Grapesā€™ mascot. ā€œLook at that little face. He looks like heā€™s eatinā€™ grapes.ā€
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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roryjacksonā€‹:
who: open what: stress <3 where:Ā back behind the equipment shed
Homecoming always looked fun in the movies. It was a quintessential college experience, and here Rory was, a complete nervous wreck hiding behind the equipment shed just to get some air. But she hadnā€™t really expected anyone else to come wandering back there.Ā ā€œOh my god- sorry-ā€ she blurted out.Ā ā€œI was just, trying not to hurl! Donā€™t mind me!ā€ It was meant to sound like a joke (even though it was totally true), but nothing about her wavering voice sounded convincing, even to her. Her chest felt too tight, like her ribs were collapsing inwards under the pressure.Ā ā€œSorry, I wonā€™t puke if you want to hide out here too.ā€ Her stomach turned again and she paled unconvincingly. ā€œProbably.ā€Ā 
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In between the bubbling excitement of having a semi-normal college experience and the more pressing thoughts of things yet to be explained, hiding behind an equipment shed seems semi-normal. A potential respite from thinking about theĀ owntay uaresqay? The potential that theĀ aranormalpay that the likes of Kamila and Jamie would be overjoyed to find out exists actually does? What he doesnā€™t expect is a fellow squarer (what heā€™s been affectionately calling them in his logbook)Ā to be hiding there too. ā€œThat doesnā€™t sound too pleasant.ā€ His mind scrambles between long car rides between states and looking after the children ofĀ ā€˜unclesā€™ andĀ ā€˜auntsā€™ in motel rooms whose names he can no longer recall.Ā ā€œ... Do you want me to get a tea? Or is that not very homecoming-y? Iā€™m not really sure how these events work.ā€Ā Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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touristdisconnectedā€‹:
Maddie was naturally a little nosey, it wasnā€™t that she wanted to dig up the dirt on others or even mildly stir the soil for that matter, she just liked to feel as if she were a part of things. Since that was the case, it was rather fitting that Maddie was in charge of the ledger that contained everybodyā€™s dorm assignments for the semester. She could see where everybody would be living, who they would be sharing their quarters with, with whom they would have neighboring walls and it was all very exciting to her.
As a recent transfer student, she didnā€™t know everybody on the ledger and it was a perfect opportunity for her to put faces to names and feel like she was contributing something to the CCU community in the process. More comforting than that, however, was to see the gang around the place, despite all that had happened as of late.
ā€œHey,ā€ Maddie greeted,Ā ā€œGot your assignment yet? I wonā€™t tell if you want to do a little swapsies, thereā€™s still time,ā€ more than half of the names in the ledger remained unmarked, which meant, in Maddieā€™s exclusive opinion that as the on-duty dorm assignment director, she also had the power to move things around for the right personā€¦or the right price.
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The idea of having a roommate was actually quite exciting to Jaspar. Sharing a space... late night confessions of their future hopes and dreams... those little outfit sharing moments that heā€™d seen in countless movies over the years. And then there was the overarching reason why heā€™d even thought about moving out of the place he shared with the cats. It was less lonely and surely living with a stranger for the year had to be better than living with a house full of criminals he did back home! ā€œI donā€™t think Iā€™ve really met mine,ā€ he comments, although heā€™s quite chipper about it.Ā ā€œHe has a super cool name though, so surely that means heā€™s, like, super cool.ā€ Because thatā€™s how it went usually.Ā  ā€œHow about you? Did you have any inside knowledge into the selection process?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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rorycollinsā€‹:
šŸŒ±
Rory blinked in the morning light. Maybe she shouldā€™ve expected that answer, after everything heā€™d finally told them at their little midnight meeting of the Cherry Night Wanderers Society. Scratch that. She wasnā€™t keen on joining any sort of society, after everything with the LDB.Ā ā€œIā€™d sort of been hoping that having even halfĀ an answer might make the sleepwalking stop,ā€ she sighed, but tried to shoot him a half hearted smile anyways. ā€œClearly, no such luck. Opened my eyes to Town Square instead of my bedroom ceiling.ā€ Sleep didnā€™t even feel like rest anymore. And that was saying something, considering her usual track record with the night hours.Ā 
ā€œAny tips on how to stop doing that? Because Iā€™m really gonna to need to buy better pajamas if all the early birds are gonna keep seeing them. I also might start sleeping in shoes. I had to get a tetanus shotĀ last week because I stepped on some glass walking home.ā€Ā 
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ā€œWell... your waking brain knows what might be going on. Your mind when itā€™s at rest? Less so.ā€ He offers with a returned small smile of his own. Whenever he looks at one of their little group he still feels mild pangs of guilt for not looking out for them better. Maybe if theyā€™d all been in the loop (no time warp reference intended) for longer there would be no need for tetanus shots. ā€œIā€™ve found itā€™s all about getting inventive and creating tiny experiments to try to overcome it. Iā€™ve already tried tying one hand to my bedpost which is actually surprisingly difficult to do by yourself,ā€ he laughs. ā€œAnother idea Iā€™m considering is setting up a camera to see if thereā€™s a set time that the wandering starts.. this could work better for you if you live with someone else as you could get someone you live with to guide you back to bed at that time through explaining that youā€™re sleepwalking. Not why, though. Obviously.ā€ Even if it could ruin their memories for good, he also doesnā€™t want to get in trouble with Kamilla! ā€œCreating some kind of noise system above your front door is also another option...?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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castle-cameronā€‹:
who: @ofjasparsā€‹ what: some arcade fun It was completely lost on Cam how people did shit like this. How was literally anyone good at video games. What kind of brain power did it take that he was clearly lacking. Which was saying something, because generally Cam considered himself to be a fairly intelligent person. He did well in school, maintained his grades, and was always on the top of his game when it came to his parents bi-weekly family trivia nights. But shit like Galaga? Mrs. Pac Man? Centipede? Mario Kart? It was like all the hand eye coordination he considered himself to be so on top of during his deliveries was somehow out the window. Which became ever the more clear when he found himself getting his ass kicked all over again despite it being his third try.Ā 
ā€œDammit. I seriously donā€™t get how people do this. Are you any good at these things?ā€ He asked, making a point to try and make conversation with Jasper. He was someone he definitely recognized from deliveries but that didnā€™t always mean they recognized him.Ā ā€œI think I was meant to be bad at video games.ā€Ā 
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Truthfully, other than his cats and Kamilla, Jaspar knows very few citizens of Cherry. But his pizza guy? His pizza guy he definitely recognises. Put it down to the love affair heā€™d had with pepperoni all throughout the winter when he hadnā€™t wanted to venture outside. So, heā€™s all too happy to help the other when spoken to. ā€œOh cā€™mon, dude. Nobodyā€™s meant to be bad at video games,ā€ he comments with a warm, reassuring, smile. Because somehow - even through how tired heā€™s been since trying to solve the mystery of the lost town square memories - his smile stays in place.Ā ā€œItā€™s all about perspective.ā€ He sidles in a little closer to the machine Cam is on, gentle gesture to ask if itā€™s okay to take over to show him how he gets through the level. Heā€™s not an expert by any means but heĀ does have a steady hand... part of wanting to be a doctor requires it but heā€™s positive (and certain!) it can be taught to the other.Ā ā€œJust about seeing your growth positively is all. If you can think it, you can achieve it with enough practice and all that stuff that Hallmark have nailed better than I ever could put in words myself.ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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thezevkingā€‹:
who: open! what: trying to just be a normal teen where: getting some movie snacks!
Despite it all, Zev was in a pretty good mood. Sure, the fast approaching anniversary of Luxā€™s death felt like a lead brick in his stomach, and he still didnā€™t feel quite certain that people werenā€™t still scrutinizing him, but he was also at a drive in movie plus arcade! Like, his favorite things ever?Ā It was hard to feel that bad when you were surrounded by (almost) everything you loved.Ā 
ā€œOh, you can cut ahead of me,ā€ he spoke to the person behind him in line at the Food Shack.Ā ā€œI know thereā€™s not that many options, but Iā€™m still not totally sure what Iā€™m gettingā€¦ā€ He wasnā€™t even sure what he was doing! Was he going to go get a ticket for a Junker and watch the movie with some snacks? Maybe. Heā€™d already seen it though, so maybe his money was better spent on some arcade games and beer? Or bowling? Too many choices!
ā€œActually, what are you doing right now? I have like, no idea what Iā€™m gonna do. So maybe Iā€™ll just tag along with you? If thatā€™s cool?ā€ Just like the good old days. Man, he wished Lux was here tooā€¦
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Ah, to have an excuse to be at his favourite place in Cherry! Itā€™d just be rude to turn down a party invite when heā€™s trying to fight against the instinct to go to the town square. Ruder not to get involved... and ruder still to not at least buy his body weight in candy... and fries... hell, heā€™s pretty sure that by the end of the night heā€™ll be lifting the economy of the Southside singlehandedly.Ā 
Seeing Zev always manages to bring a smile to his face from their mutual love of skating, but tonight familiarity is just what he needs as it adds an extra pep to theĀ ā€œHey!ā€ that chimes out when he sees the other ahead of him in the queue.Ā ā€œWell, Iā€™m stuck somewhere between cheese fries and ordering at least, like, five types of candy,ā€ he says with a grin while taking a glance at the menu. He hates to admit it - loathes to admit it with Kamillaā€™s warnings - but there was just such a charm to the drive-in and all of its activities. ā€œThen I was gonna do bingo bowling to spice things up so you can totally join.ā€ His head cocks to the side,Ā ā€œyou ever played? Can be pretty fun when thereā€™s more than one person.ā€
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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rorycollinsā€‹:
who: ror & @ofjasparsā€‹ what: a little run in at the asscrack of dawn <3 where: where ELSE tbh
Nightmares were old hat to Rory at this point. Nightmares, night terrors, blah blah blah been there done that. If Zev and Zahra are to be believed, she occasionally talks in her sleep too. But sleepwalking? That was new. And unwelcome. And it made for a grumpy Rory, especially when she opened her eyes in the damn Town Square in her pajamas(!) at 5 am(!!) on a Saturday(!!!). Thank godĀ she didnā€™t sleep naked. Unfortunately, she also didnā€™t sleep with money in her pockets, as if she somehow did not foresee needing cash when she put her stolen Pit tshirt andĀ sleep shorts covered in little rainbows when she went to sleep the night before! Luckily, the cocktail of exhaustion, stress, and frustration she was feeling also meant that Rory was severely lacking in shame. She was fully prepared to beg the next familiar person she saw for a couple dollars so she could buy coffee to fuel her barefoot walk home, but recognition flashed across her face as her eyes landed on Kamillaā€™s assistant.Ā 
ā€œHey! Jaspar, right?ā€ Running into him here sends the strangest wave of deja vu through her, enough to make her feel a little ill. Or maybe that was the no coffee / 5 am combination at work.Ā ā€œWhatā€™re you doing here?ā€
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Saturday mornings werenā€™t usually like this. They were spent with his head buried deep under the covers cuddling with the gang (disclaimer: not to be confused with The Gang who, as of right now, heā€™s far less warm to the idea of cuddling. Theyā€™re Jasparā€™s cat buddies!). So when heā€™d woke in the early hours of the morning with the intense pulling sensation in his gut that he needed to be at the Town Square instantly he had been a little apprehensive to pull away from Lovelaceā€™s morning head scratches but heā€™d done it. Tossed on his worn out converse and skated to the forsaken place without even his flask of tea to accompany him. Heā€™d been told by Kamilla why the dreams happened. It still didnā€™t help the voice in the back of his head that kept asking why and more importantly how? Surely dimension hopping was outside the realm of possibilities?Ā 
But heā€™s pulled from his reverie by a vaguely familiar face. A Town Square adjacent face.Ā ā€œUh, hey!ā€ he calls, adjusting his sloppy pyjama bottoms. Maybe he should have paid that much attention to the bags under his eyes.Ā ā€œI...ā€ He frowns as he casts a glance around the square.Ā ā€œCanā€™t really explain why Iā€™m here actually.ā€ For more than one reason!Ā ā€œIā€™ve felt oddly drawn to here the past few days....?ā€ He settles on before cocking his head at her.Ā ā€œHow about you?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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thewriter-noahā€‹:
āœļø
Itā€™d been hard for Noah to place Jasper initially when theyā€™d met in the town square. Partially because of everything theyā€™d just been through, and partially because he really only recognized him from a few short run ins at school. But if he was hanging around with Rory and Mac he had to be some sort ofĀ ā€˜okayā€™ right? At least itā€™s what he told himself when Jasper returned his joke with a warm smile. One that brought down Noahā€™s walls just a smidgen. Just enough to make him feel like Jasper wasnā€™t going to be the next harsh judgement he had to hear from in regards to the damn polaroid.Ā ā€œSeriously?ā€ Noah asked, a genuine curiosity present in his tone as he thought through his own experiences with school. Writing had been something thatā€™d been encouraged of him from as far back as he could possibly imagine. Itā€™d often been his saving grace in times when he thought he had nothing else.Ā ā€œKind of fucked up from an educators perspective.ā€ He added, as he tapped his pen lightly against the cover of his book. The question about what heā€™d been writing surprising him as he glanced down at it then back up to meet Jasperā€™s gaze.Ā ā€œItā€™s kind of a mix. Any time Candy comes around I try and write about my perspective of events. But before that I was working on a script and thatā€™s actually coming along quite nicely.ā€Ā 
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ā€œWell, half the joy of writing is in having legible handwriting, so maybe I fell down at the first hurdleā€ he jokes. Although truly, Jaspar is not a storyteller. Not at a professional level anyway - he gets far too eager to tell the ending and skips ahead on the details. Itā€™s why heā€™s much better at keeping a scientific logbook than a diary, so thereā€™s something to be respected in the fact that Noah is creating something out of their torture.Ā ā€œYou do?ā€ He canā€™t disguise his surprise at it. The instant thought that if Kamilla were ever to take a foray into private investigation instead of paranormal investigation that it might be the kind of thing that sheā€™d find incredibly useful. Not that heā€™s about to ask for Noahā€™s... diary?Ā ā€œThatā€™s pretty rad, dude. Think Iā€™d have... probably just curled up with a cup of tea and made a vow to never speak of it again.ā€ But he hadnā€™t been psychologically tortured so he may never know! Just... tortured by an inanimate square. Hmm.Ā ā€œWhatā€™s your genre of choice? If itā€™s thriller I think youā€™re allowed a break.ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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ofsouthsidcrsā€‹:-
Rocky didnā€™t admit when she overreacted much, but she definitely thought about those moments a lot. And this was one of them. God, she hated being so fucking on edge like this. But the god news was, he seemed too distracted himself to give a shit that sheā€™d snapped at him. Or, less likely, a good guy in Cherry! ā€œ Youā€™re good. Thanks. ā€ She assured as she accepted lighter back. Not wasting much more time before she finally lit her cigarette, pocketing lighter safely once she was done with it. Flicking her out of her face as she blew smoke to the side.Ā ā€œ No, itā€™s cool. You didnā€™t scare me. ā€ Nothing scared Rocky Zhōu. Thatā€™s what she was always telling herself. Sometimes it felt true. ā€œ Just surprised. ā€ She offered a small smirk with her words. A light joke, an easy one. Proving just how palatable she could be. How Proper, as it were.Ā ā€œ If you donā€™t mind second hand smoke youā€™re welcome to keep hiding here. I was kinda doing the same thing myself. ā€
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ā€˜Just surprisedā€™. Jaspar could count on both of his hands the number of times a scared ā€˜ghostā€™ observer had said something along those lines in his lifetime. But, of course heā€™s not going to casually mention that heā€™s part of a family of con artists to a complete stranger. Thatā€™s at least fiftieth conversation territory. Preferably never. So, he lets out a chuckle, ā€œif you ever meet me in the wild I am not wanting to become a doctor and betraying my own by lingering here.ā€ He says, nudging his head in the direction of her cigarette. But itā€™s meant lightheartedly. Heā€™d take secondhand smoke over the nightmares heā€™d been experiencing the past few days any day of the week. ā€œSo whatā€™s someone who doesnā€™t scare easily hiding out in a back alley?ā€ He quips, trying to muster a grin. If Jaspar had been a born and bred Cherriot he would know there were several reasons as to why someone may want to. But heā€™s still got thatĀ ā€˜relatively newā€™ scent off him! Naive, bright and bushy-tailed when it came to everything seedy underbelly.
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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thewriter-noahā€‹:
who: open starter What: little writer boy, doing little writer thingsĀ  Where: Town Square
And just like that they were back at it. Fear striking through them as the unknown showed itā€™s ugly face back in Cherry. Noah felt sick to his stomach just thinking about it. The box, the evidence, the riddleā€¦ Once again finding himself assigned with community service for the shit they needed to do to deal with Candy and her threats. It was frustrating to say the least. But recently that frustration, and anger had made great fuel for his writing. It all did really. So Noah made a point of returning back to the scene of their riddle. Sat himself down against the table and got to work. Heā€™d started working on pages of his and Zevā€™s script. Thinking that the recent events would boost his sense of creativity, but that quickly delved into notes from what he recalled from the days prior. Notes similar to the oneā€™s heā€™d taken over the course of the past year. Feeling that familiar sense of dread as each page left him feeling more and more like things were unfinished. He wasnā€™t sure how much time had passed but if the number of pages heā€™d gone through was any indicator itā€™d been at least a few hours before a shadow was cast over his book. Eyes squinting as he glanced up to see whoā€™d approached.Ā ā€œLong time no see.ā€ He started as he flipped his book shut.Ā ā€œSee we had the same idea.ā€Ā 
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Jaspar canā€™t help it. The siren song of the Town Square has been luring him to it even when heā€™s been en route to other places in town. Itā€™d be the worldā€™s greatest love story if it werenā€™t for the fact that thereā€™s an ominous feeling attached to it all. But on this particular trip, heā€™s not alone. Noahā€™s ā€œGood one,ā€ he smiles warmly at ā€˜long time no seeā€™ as if the two hadnā€™t briefly met in the square when heā€™d first felt the attachment. It was wishful thinking to imagine that he might have been writing about the Town Square too wasnā€™t it? To think that it might not have just been him stuck with the growing feeling of restlessness and the dreams. ā€œCanā€™t say I was planning to do much writing though - my eighth grade English teacher let me down gently on pursuing anything like that...ā€ He pauses for a beat, chewing at the inside of his cheek.Ā ā€œGot anything good going?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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ofsouthsidcrsā€‹:
who: open what: rocky being a lil on edge to be back in proper where: around the side of surfā€™s up
There were many, many things Rocky could attribute the tight feeling across her shoulders to. The horrifically publicised funeral of Billy Rocks that she had missed, the drama that seemed to swell every time someone so much as mentioned Lux Lewisā€™ name, or maybe it was simply pain from carrying all the bullshit she had for so many fucking years. One thing she would not attribute it to, however, was an uncomfortable feeling caused by being back in Proper after so many years. It wasnā€™t the first time back, no, but it was sinking in that she was back. In a certain sense. Whatever. That totally wasnā€™t her problem.Ā 
In the afternoon shadows beside Surfā€™s Up Rocky attempted rid that irritating and awfully humbling feeling, pulling rolled cigarette from a metal case and put it between her lips. Cupping hand around it as she tried to light itā€“ but then she sees a shadow move, or thinks she does. Either way, causes her to jump, dropping lighter from her hand as she did.Ā ā€œ Jesus.Ā Donā€™t fucking sneak up on me like that, ā€ Was it really sneaking or was it more likely theyā€™d just rounded a corner and now had Rocky snapping at them?Ā ā€œ Total creeper shit. ā€ She commented irritably, grabbing cigarette before it had the chance to fall as well. She looked to the ground for fallen lighter, the faded red BIC lighter easy to spot, but unfortunately close to the approacherā€™s feet. God damn it.Ā ā€œ Mind passing my lighter? ā€ She asked, pointing to it. Irritability notably dropped from her tone now she was asking a favour. A small one, but a favour nonetheless.
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Jasparā€™s walk to Surfā€™s Up had taken longer than expected. Mainly because every few steps accompanies a longing in his gut to turn around and walk back to the Town Square. Itā€™s horrific really. Enough to sour usually sweet expression as he slips into the shadows of his destination to get a top-up from his bag. To the alleyā€™s other occupant, it may look like heā€™s drinking as he whips out a flask and takes a hearty swig... but itā€™s tea! He swears! Chamomile to ease stress. Or it should do - except one minute heā€™s sipping his tea and the next heā€™s retaliating Rockyā€™s jump with one of his own.Ā 
His eyes catch on the red of the lighter by his feet and he reaches down to grab it, before clutching it in his palm as if thereā€™s something familiar about lighters from his eerie dreams. Not helpful for the creeper shit!Ā ā€œUh, sorry! Got distracted for a second there.ā€ He snaps out of it, shaking his head a little as he finally extends the lighter out for Rocky to take. As if determined to prove heā€™s actually a normal human, he throws her a smile.Ā ā€œSorry if I scared you. Thought I could catch a break from the crowds back here.ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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romxnticssā€‹:
šŸŽø
ā€œOh good,ā€ Mac says with a light laugh. It would be just his luck to survive the past year and then drown to death with a bowling ball and a Zippo. He can see the headlines now, Two Weirdos Drown, Kamila Yang Jailed for Manslaughter and Conspiracy Theories. At least then he wouldnā€™t have to faceā€¦ well, he didnā€™t even want to think about it. Plus, heā€™s sure heā€™d rather deal with that than die before the new Star Wars came out.Ā 
ā€œIs that Bill Clinton? Do I even wanna know?ā€ he teases, though he leans over to take an oar,Ā ā€œIf they find us with him out here do you think heā€™ll be like ā€˜I did not have nautical relationships with those men?ā€™ā€Ā 
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A burst of bright laughter leaves Jasparā€™s mouth at Macā€™s comment as he take his own oar and brings it down into the water to start pushing them out to sea before his eyes land on the bobblehead. ā€œI used to travel around a lot with my family,ā€ he explains. ā€œI got to, like, city four or five before I thought itā€™d be better with something to remember from it all. Slick Willie here...ā€ His free hand reaches to pick Bill up from the bench who only nods his head, causing him to suck in a breath. ā€œIs from when I lived in Washington for 2 months. But unfortunately, our good friendā€™s default state is stuck on ferociously agreeing to everything while grinning so I donā€™t think heā€™d even be able to deny it.ā€ Wacky and relatable? Way to goĀ Bobblehead Bill! Jaspar hoists the oar once more as Cherry starts to fade into their peripheral vision. ā€œCanā€™t even trust a bobblehead politician these days... you see why he has to go, right?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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pilarhamiltonā€‹:
who: open
where: blossom records booth
Pilar frowned as she rifled idly through the options at the booth. Sheā€™d practically gone through half the CDā€™s and had come to the realisation that she didnā€™t actually know what music her dad listened to. It made figuring out what to buy for him - an impulse decision that she was now committed to - a little harder than expected. ā€œWhat do dadā€™s listen to? Is it 70s music?ā€ she asked offhandedly as someone approached her side. Talking to people felt like more effort ever sinceā€¦ well. Ever since. But she wasnā€™t going to start shying away from small talk and casual conversation just because of something like that. She would not become a hermit, goddammit. ā€œI worry that anything I give him heā€™ll play in the waiting room at the clinic and Iā€™d so rather listen to something released in this decade if I or any of the Lambda Rho girls get hurt.ā€
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Was buying a CD the kind of item Kamilla Yang had meant when she asked him to bring a personal item for their research experiment? Probably not but honestly Jasparā€™s a little stuck on what he wants to sacrifice to the ocean. Something with low impact on the ecosystem maybe... because he definitely doesnā€™t need the turtles on his conscience as well as all the deceived families across the nation. Thankfully, as Pilar starts to speak, heā€™s torn from his reverie altogether. Instead now caught up in the thought of what his own dad would play in the van. Lots of Tom Petty ... and Wings! Jasparā€™s mind wanders. What is it with every dad ever and Wings anyway? Is Paul McCartney their agreed mascot? ā€œIā€™m convinced that theyā€™re all given a soundtrack in the delivery room. Thereā€™s a generic dad vibe that seems to be timeless,ā€ he comments, lips quirking into a smile as long fingers skirt over CDs before landing on one in particular and pulling it out with a contemplative hum.Ā ā€œā€™Huge Hits 1998ā€²ā€, he reads aloud from the inside of the cellophane wrapper.Ā ā€œThatā€™s gotta have a bit of dad rock and a bit of the latest on it... right?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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romxnticssā€‹:
šŸŽø
So maybe Macā€™s day hadnā€™t been as monotonous as previously stated. Because how could B have predicted Mackenzie Walsh getting hot and heavy with Harvard Hargrove III on the dash? So lets disregard whatever I said about Macā€™s day. There was no distraction better from what had just taken place than sailing out in the middle of the ocean with someone he barely knew, to assist the town crackpot in a research investigation he knew nothing about. Maybe the sea breeze or whatever would do him some good, it would knock some sense into him so he could processā€¦ whatever the fuck had just taken place only an hour or so before.Ā 
ā€œUm- yeah, I did,ā€ he says, rifling around in his pockets. God, he hoped he hadnā€™t dropped it in Hargroveā€™s office. How the fuck would he explain that one? Luckily, he finally fishes it out of his pocket- a zippo lighter from the vast collection that was beginning to collect dust in his room,Ā ā€œThis good enough?ā€ He raises his eyebrows, mostly at the boat,Ā ā€œWell thatā€™s two more times than I have, so this should be good.ā€Ā 
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Although Jasparā€™s still unsure why Kamilla has asked them to bring the items, thereā€™s a touch of curiosity in his eye as Mac pulls out a lighter. Just because it was interesting to see what heā€™d brought when given a world of choice.Ā Heā€™s always had a big imagination - can practically see it being held up at some concert at some point, even if itā€™s probably not the case.Ā ā€œYeah, should be good enough!ā€ He chirps, skimming through scribbled instructions to see if it actually would be. ā€œBut just wait until you find out the two things I know about boats are, one: I know we need to take an oar each and two: thereā€™s usually life jackets stored under the benches in case of emergencies,ā€ Jaspar grins easily, nose scrunching slightly. Itā€™s the kind of smile that should put Mac more at ease even if he is fully lacking confidence himself. Still, he loads the items into the boat, giving careful consideration to the orange bowling ball, the bottle heā€™d collected from the office, and his own personal item - a bobblehead of their current president, currently swaying his oversized head in the breeze. And the tea and pretzels, of course - sustenance was important, before finally taking hopping in himself.Ā ā€œI think weā€™re pretty much set whenever youā€™re ready to give up your land legs.ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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romxnticssā€‹:
šŸŽø
In the past year Mac had doneā€¦ weirder things than this, somehow. He was surprised that anyone outside of the gang wanted to talk to him, considering most of the town seemed to tiptoe around them after theyā€™d gone missing for two days. Or at least, thatā€™s what it felt like. But Jaspar is a welcome distraction to an otherwise monotonous day, and out of all the real adults in Cherry, Kamilla Yang was somehow among the ones he trusted. He wasnā€™t all that convinced that what they were doing was going to add up to anything significant, but what the hell, right? It was the least he could do after heā€™d seen her precious Phantom and sheā€™d never have the chance.Ā 
ā€œYeah- sure, is there anything you need me to do?ā€ he smiles,Ā ā€œI snagged a bag of pretzels from the store, so weā€™ve got snacks, too.ā€Ā 
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A small hum pushes past Jasparā€™s lips at Macā€™s question before heā€™s reaching into the pocket of his multicoloured jacket to pull up a very crinkled sheet of paper. Heā€™d never been the most diligent worker... with all the moving heā€™d done heā€™d never really seen the point when his jobs would last a few months at most, but he wants to be! Or be better at trying to be diligent, at least!Ā ā€œWell, I suppose the most important thing you can do right now is let me know if you brought your personal item?ā€ He looks up from the sheet, wondering where heā€™d put the IKEA pencil that heā€™d scribbled the list with to begin with - itā€™d be handy to tick the items on the list off. ā€œAnd then Iā€™m probably gonna need some help with getting her,ā€ he taps at the side of the boat with his free hand,Ā ā€œout onto the water. I can practically count on two fingers the amount I know about getting a boat going.ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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littledebsā€‹:
š–š‡šŽ: debra foster & OPEN
š–š‡š€š“:ā€‹ā€‹ lil debs doing her dirty work 4 the day
š–š‡š„š‘š„: the block party, obvi!
The lines between Proper and the Southside had slowly began to fade. Well, if they could all coexist at a block party, maybe it would be! It also gave Debra the perfect front to actually be at the block party. Had she shown up of her own volition with no Southsiders in sightā€¦ she would have had a bit of explaining to do. Luckily, she had been tasked to mingling on the Proper side. There werenā€™t many girls in the Southside gang, and not many that could throw on innocence like Debra. Thus, she was given a dress code by Hasim, to wear something unsuspecting as if to say hey, Southsiders can look nice too! She tugged at the sun dress she was in, clipboard in hand, as she hunted down voters. She had been bouncing between her job at The Pit and the Southside Gang all day long and just needed a break. Was this what it would be like when she was inevitably split between both worlds? Maybe!
She wanted to sit down, maybe have a lemonade, but Debra had been given a goal. Get younginā€™s to either register to vote or convince voters that Hasim was in the best interest of Cherry Township. It was a task that Debra wasnā€™t surprised fell on her. How could you say no to a face like hers?Ā ā€œHi, sorry to be a bother,ā€ she smiled softly, tapping the next person she saw on the shoulder. If she could secure them, maybe sheā€™d be allowed a break.Ā ā€œIā€™m with Hasim Erdoganā€™s campaign. I was wondering if there was any way I could convince,ā€ or bribe, ā€œyou into registering to vote? Or at least hearing about our plans for Cherry? It would only take two minutes, tops!ā€
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There was something oddly familiar about small town rivalries, in Jasparā€™s opinion. Heā€™d called home to so many small towns throughout his life that itā€™s the only reliable staple. New town, same old story. Because thereā€™d always be some people with more and some with less, and sure as the folk tales about mystical beings that heā€™d grown up with - they were created about people too. Itā€™d been why heā€™d been so determined to explore the Southside when heā€™d first arrived in Cherry; why heā€™s still torn about the growing distrust in his gut about the Southsiders since he started his summer job.Ā 
ā€œAh Iā€™m sorry, Iā€™m registered to vote in... my home state.ā€ Where was he registered to vote? Something for future Jaspar to dwell on, he supposes. The more immediate concern is the curiosity that piques up in him when he hearsĀ ā€˜plans for Cherryā€™. Surely knowing that may be helpful in the office. Heā€™s supposed to be getting on with collecting items for Kamillaā€™s ā€˜big research projectā€™ but when has he not been at the beck and call of curiosity? ā€œBut maybe I can hear some of those plans of yours and spread them to my friends to encourage them to vote?ā€Ā 
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ofjaspars Ā· 2 years
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cristianovaā€‹:
who: @ anybody
where: beside Jillianā€™s booth
what: cris is demanding fashion advice.
For whatever reason, Cris felt himself pulled back to Cherieā€™s Closet booth throughout the evening. The benefit of tag-teaming with his mom on a Van Allen booth was that they could work in shifts. Cris was supposed to be socializing during his time off, but instead he was reminiscing on what used to be. Even if it was a cover, he really had enjoyed working for Jillian. It was his first real job! He resented capitalism but he loved supporting another female-owned small business. So there he stood, perusing what was left of Jillianā€™s wares once again. As a familiar face walked past, he reached out for their attention.Ā ā€œAye! Slow down, partner!ā€ He shouted.Ā ā€œYou gotta help me pick out one last outfit from Cherieā€™s!ā€ He gestured to the clothes displayed and hanging around beside him.Ā ā€œWhich of these screams: Cristiano Van Allen?ā€
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Jasparā€™s style has definitely changed upon arrival in California. Turtlenecks, once a coveted item in his closet, have been replaced by loose tees andĀ ā€˜cozy chiqueā€™ has gone out the window since the arrival of summer. Enough to leave him feeling like a bit like an alien (ha!). So to be asked for styling advice? He lets out a huff of air as if to vocalise his confusion of being picked but he gets to work anyway. ā€œLetā€™s see what weā€™ve got here...ā€ and a laugh slips past his lips, shaking his head at his own decision before itā€™s even lifted off the rack. Not because of the style of the baby tee but the design on the front... screams something! Heā€™d been trying to pick out something bright.Ā  ā€œAlright... Iā€™m going to ask you a very serious question, Cristiano Van Allen,ā€ Jaspar starts, narrowing his eyes between the fabric now held tightly to his chest to not reveal anything beyond the red ringer neckline and Cristiano. ā€œOpinion on the Hoff?ā€Ā 
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