Withoutmonsterswebecomethem - Give Me One Good Reason.

Biting his lips for a moment, he nodded, “I think so. You know you're supposed to replace those every couple of years. How many years has that been in your house?- I had a pillow as a kid that once had the indent in the shape of my head, and that was all I needed.” He could say that his parents didn't exactly go out of their way to replace such things every couple of years. Though he loved that pillow, a sigh left him. Because he still felt sad that he had so far not been able to find another pillow as comfortable, even if most of the stuffing was pushed to the sides. It fit his head perfectly in the indent and was the only pillow he had needed.

“Does it?” Raising an eyebrow, he glanced to one side, thinking about it. He wasn't much of a morning person, most days. Especially here lately. Though most moments of the day were met with utter exhaustion, he could say he wasn't a person currently meant for any part of the day. At the Care Bear comment, he makes himself laugh. Not because he didn't find any amusement in the comment, he could agree with it, even. But the emotion just wasn't there in earnest, “Really?! Bedtime Bear? Hm. I'll take it.” Nodding his head, he continued to walk with Andrea toward the coffee stand. Glancing here and there at people they passed by, “So, then what kind of Care Bear could you be?”

As Andrea spoke about the store, he nodded along, listening, then narrowed his eyes a bit, looking ahead, “Sure.” He offered a grin, more in comfort toward his friend. Rather than the hopes that the store was going to be bustling. But he was just being negative. Bringing his left hand up to his head, a sudden wave of nausea hit him, and he stumbled a bit. But just as quickly as it had come, he forced it back down, running his hand over his head, playing it off as if it were nothing at all. Swallowing, his throat felt thick, scanning, he had to get out away for a moment. The thin layer of sweat had suddenly come to be more persistent, droplets forming and running down his neck, “Ah-huh- I hope- so too. Yeah.” If he could look any more pale, he would be. Standing at the coffee station, he felt even worse than he did just a few seconds earlier. The dizziness and sick feeling became almost too unbearable at this point to continue to ignore, and be forced down.

“-be right back-” Azazel hurriedly said as he turned and rushed off. Stumbling slightly and bumping into a few people in the crowd, the motion not at all helping his sudden needs. Finally making his way to a building with a proper bathroom in it, he slammed the door shut as the nausea he was feeling piqued.

"Oh I do, I think that it's more comfortable about my own bed, maybe that's a sign for me to get a new bed or something." She couldn't help but chuckle as the two of them began to make their way to grab some coffee. While she normally drank tea, she drank coffee to give her a boost of energy which she kind of needed. "Sounds like it's more important than breakfast to you." She smirked. "If you were a Care Bear you would be Bedtime Bear." She added with a playful grin.

"Yeah I mean I think any store will take it's time getting up off the ground, but I know that it will be up and running in no time. I'll probably be more in the back at times, but I'll try and get out and help the customers when I can." She always had a positive outlook on everything, plus, it was better than her old job, she had more freedom and was doing something that she loved. "Well let's hope that the slump goes away, nothing worse than a slump. Been in quite a few myself" She spoke as they got to the coffee stand.

What does your OC wear on a normal day? Why do they default to those clothes? Do they wear similar things, or do they change it up?

He is often wearing more elegant and/or practical outfits. This is frequently his daily attire, predominantly suits, but anything along those lines tends to be what he's often seen to be wearing, no matter what. Typically appearing in respectable outfits, more than in filthy or excessively expensive, or fancy outfits. Azazel defaults to outfits of this style because he likes to look presentable, and perhaps even at times blend into his surroundings. He will certainly change what he wears, but keep within the same style of what he's into wearing. Due to the weather becoming hotter, he's wearing more loose and showy outfits. Generally, in cool, wintery, or lighter colors, regardless of temperature conditions. He has been known to also dress in grunge, gothic, and biker aesthetic styles, especially when he was younger. But these days he sticks mostly to suits when working, or simpler outfits on his days off. Examples.

At the question, Azazel just narrowed his eyes a bit. He didn't have time for this level of stupidity, right now. Maybe it was because he had been gone for such a long time, and had only recently been going back to drinking at places that weren't his house. But, still, he stood silently in front of the other. Thinking that, this, this was someone who would be a great reason for why he hated listening to people talk, “Yes.” Azazel finally answered to having the 'usual'. His eye contact maintained on the other's own gaze, intense, as if he might be challenging the other to say something else just as abysmally stupid as what was just said. Azazel could only imagine it wouldn't take long, and he was right. Because, as Cyrek continued, he could only imagine at this point, just to annoy him, he stood quiet. Listening to what the other said, almost against his will. Tapping his fingers tips on his hands against the surface of the bar, he dropped his head down, sucking in a breath, “No? And, I don't fucking care right now.” Okay, maybe that was a lie. Lifting his head back up, he put on a grin, his head tilting slightly. Blinking, he continued, “They should put you on the case. We'll have it solved a lot sooner, I'm sure.” Maybe he should have toned it down, he told himself. He was simply just on edge, for a multitude of reasons, and Cyrek's yapping, considering their history, wasn't helping level off that edge he was on, “Mmm.” That was all he could initially offer to Cyrek, bringing up the month's specials, suddenly feeling exhausted. Inhaling, he glanced up, considering some thoughts before suddenly turning his head, then looked back to the other just as quickly. Azazel looked at the sheet that was now on the countertop and frowned, “I, hate, all of these.” He commented, unkindly, expressionless. Then placed his left hand on the sheet and pushed it back toward Cyrek. Only to bring his left hand to his face, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Sure, okay. Okay. Thank you. Just, give me the usual, the hardest stuff you have. None of that crap you're peddling on that sheet. I need something that would let me breathe fire, or that could run a car.”

@boneyardstarters at the mean-eyed cat bar

After giving a PTA mom a covert look of judgment for ordering a Bloody Mary, of everything on the menu of specials, and scraping some asshole's tip in change off one of the booths and side-eyeing the coins to count them rather than look directly into the ugly mug of old George Washington, Cyrek was ready to give his attention to a regular at the bar who wasn't bitching and moaning into his deaf ear. "The usual, or you want somethin' else?" A pair of mismatched eyes hovered over their shoulder to stare at the newscasting of the latest about a victim with no blood and guts, and Vegas' finest doing really fuck-all beyond spinning their heads. "You hear the news? Bet they got no idea who it is this time, either. You'd think they would've pinned down a frequent spot and staked it out or whatever." As if the MC needed the potential for a detective to breathe down their neck more than one already was, but he digressed; small talk about local happenings keyed him up to where they should avoid, and the rumors circulating around. "I got this month's specials out now, too." Reaching under the bar to slap down a laminated sheet for some Boozy Bunny or carrot juice-infused cocktails, the latter of which reminded him of when he'd pureed the vegetable into baby food with a pot and a processor. "Unless someone gets mowed down by a guy in a bunny suit next and we gotta put those on hold, too."

Bring It On (2000) dir. Peyton Reed

Missy telling off the cheerleaders practicing at the eleventh hour requested by anons

@soulsuckcr Location: Stargazer Villas Time: April 11, late afternoon.

Standing out in his backyard, spraying down a lush lawn with plenty of beautifully placed plants. As a biotechnologist with a keen interest in gardening, of course, he had a very well-taken care of and curated, beautifully maintained lawn. It was calming, honestly. Given everything else in his life entirely falling apart.

He looked between his neighbor's houses, not thinking Alice was a good one to go to. Moving the hose to one side, he imagined that he had probably offended her with his abrupt dismissal of her from his house. Sighing, he knew he had to make up for it at some point. But it was for the best, he told himself. Excusing his awkward behavior. Though he looked at the other homes in the neighborhood. Moving to one of his potted plants, he picked one up, examining it before muttering that he had too much of it and would give it away.

A little bit later, he was knocking on Seokmin's door loud enough that he had to guess that there was no way he wouldn't be heard. Still, even, he rang the doorbell, just in case. “Come on. Come ooon. Be home.” Azazel muttered to himself before lifting his hand up to start knocking again, one more time before he'd just give up for now and try again later. Maybe at midnight.

Two: Is there a problem?

Eight: Oh, nothing Shakespeare couldn’t turn into a really good play.

What did your muse want to be when they were a child? Would their child self be happy with what they are now?

Azazel has always wished to be in a career that allows him to learn and keep learning. He had always enjoyed finding out and picking up new things. New hobbies, new skills, new information. He was often a consummate reader. But also would go out and experiment on some of those things he would learn. So he technically had no name for what he wanted to be as a child, other than 'scientist', and that dream continued throughout his life into adulthood, where he has a professional career in the sciences, primarily in biotech. Moonlighted in his advisory position for the Vitelli's. His child self would probably be very amused by how everything turned out. Thinking that being in a 'mafia' and working as a scientist would be 'the best' way his life could have turned out. Seeing as most of his childself thinks of gangster related things in the more fictionalized settings, and not the serious, life-threatening, deadly nightmare it actually can be. Also, he would be so happy about any lean into the supernatural rumors surrounding his older self. So, child Azazel would be completely ecstatic to present Azazel's life, with a rose-tinted glasses idea of it.