That was certainly an impressionable introduction. Marguerite merely raised an eyebrow and eyed the other suspiciously. “Bourbon.” She answered and emptied her glass quickly before ordering another from the bartender. “I am sure you can buy one yourself, if that’s what you’re after, darling.” Today was not the day to ask Marguerite Durand to spent money on someone other than herself. On any other day, yeah, sure, why not, but today? Today she was planning on drinking most of her money away.
Hm. Bourbon. This woman had top of the line taste. But, of course, Morgan noticed the eyebrow raise. It was one she was used to getting from people who weren’t “like her.” Although she was 23, she felt that most people still looked at her as though she were a teenager. Maybe in a lot of ways she was, but who gave a shit? She was 23 fucking years old. She could drink and didn’t deserve an eyebrow raise. Morgan could feel herself getting defensive.
“Darling? That’s something I haven’t been called before.” she said feeling as though the word was quite patronizing. She didn’t know where all of this anger was coming from but Marguerite wasn’t making a very good first impression. Morgan pushed her hair from her face, cleared her throat and called for the bartender: “Cheapest thing you have on tap,” as she tapped the counter herself, looking at Marguerite with a slow smile on her face.
“It’s not bourbon but maybe someone would like to introduce me eventually.”
Alec shrugs, blowing smoke towards the sky. There’s a fine line between not wanting to get too deep with someone he’s only just met and wanting to say it to someone. “Pretty sure I was, actually. I died.. in combat, they wouldn’t have wanted to report it.” His tone’s quite even though, he’d long since come to terms that his job was likely to be the death of him and that it wasn’t gonna be in the newspapers. “That’s what they did for other people, anyways.”
Because, yeah, he’d been determined to serve his country, or his ideology, or– whatever. The difference between Czechoslovakia and the other Socialist Republics and communism in general blurred a lot. Especially when one was half Russian. Waking up somewhere so foreign had shook him, but he’s reminded of a quote from the current Russian president (although, he wasn’t sure he liked the guy): those who don’t miss the Soviet Union have no heart, but those who want it back have no brain. But he’s getting trapped in his own thoughts again and that’s really not productive as far as blending in in the United States goes.
So he leans back against the wall and flashes a grin, settling into a routine that hasn’t changed since he was perfecting it in nightclubs in Prague. “Is that so?” Lame, but isn’t he always? “I’m Aleksandr– just so you don’t forget who you owe a favor.”
The girl flashed an award-winning smile, “Morgan. Morgan Garcia, at your service.” She did her best impression of a curtsey as she could, considering her foot attire.
She had listened to what Aleksandr had said about dying in combat. She wanted to probe but didn’t know how to. This whole dying and coming back thing? More complicated than one might think. When was this dude from anyway? He wasn’t sporting flannel or boots like hers, ripped jeans – nothing. Then she flicked his lighter. It looked way too old-school to just be vintage –
“Say, what’s the deal with this lighter?” she asked in her coy tone as she lit her cigarette.
grey showed his hands , shrugging casually as he puffed on the cigarette , “ i’d LIVE for you to join me , miss. take a few shots , tell me about yourself. “ he wasn’t an idiot , he could tell when someone was interested. he didn’t exactly want to take ADVANTAGE of the girl , but what harm would it do to lead her on a little bit in hopes of a bigger tip – right ? he flashed her a grin as he flicked ash from his cigarette , “ PERFECT , i’ll lead the way then. “ he began walking again , gesturing ahead of them as he came to her side, “ this way. “ he took another drag off his cigarette , raising his eyebrows at her as he FRENCH inhaled , “ you smoke ? “
Morgan settled herself into her coat as she watched and listened to him talk. He was sly. He was a weasel. She could see that but, in pure Morgan fashion, she didn’t care. This guy was hot and who was she to pretend otherwise? I mean, Jesus Christ, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his mouth as smoke billowed out of his mouth and nose at the same time. She closed her eyes slowly and nodded as though it should be obvious. “Yes. I smoke,” she reached her hand toward the park of smokes, “Do you mind if I–” she glanced up at him, only half waiting a response.
“By the way, do you think you can go head to head with me on those shots? A girl might surprise you.”
lana sat still, legs crossed on a plush sofa in the coffee shop with her iced coffee in hand and copy of harry potter and the philosopher’s stone in the other. green eyes were wide, sparkling with excitement as the words flew by her gaze. was this a new series? she’d never heard of it before a few days, but it had been all she’s been thinking about since. quickly flipping the page, she continued reading until the end of the chapter where she shut the book and leaned back in exhaustion. “have you read these? they’re crazy-”
After finally breaking down and realizing she needed a job, Morgan had gone into one of the local coffee shops to see about a job. After talking to the manager, she turned around to leave.
She stopped.
There was a girl sitting just out of sight with an excited, frenzied look on her face as she held tightly to the book in front of her. Morgan just stood there and watched. She hadn’t seen someone so enthralled in a book since she came to. It lit a fire inside of her. Something people wouldn’t guess about her is that she loved books. She loved the way they smelled, running her fingers across the cover and its pages. She loved the knowledge she got from them. If only they knew that when she skipped classes she was hiding at the library teaching herself, no one would know what to do with her. And here sat this girl bringing back so many emotions just based on her body language.
Morgan’s feet appeared to have a mind of their own because she walked toward her, not knowing what she was going to say or, to be honest, how creepy she would appear. It seemed like the girl didn’t question Morgan’s moves at all when she asked if she’d read the books. Morgan took this as a good sign and sat down on the couch next to …her.
“I – I haven’t read them. Do you mind if I –” she reached out her hand hopefully and happily.
nari was walking home from the part time job she had managed to SWING. the wind was blowing and it made it twice as cold , so she sported a white fur coat. her thoughts often drifted to the people from her PAST – her mother and father , her step-family , friends. what she hadn’t expected to see on her way home ( and she had gotten used to seeing some strange things in this new era ) was her step-sister crouched against a wall SCREAMING.
the pink haired girl was quick to swoop over to the girl , wrapping her arms around her , “ morgan ! “ there were actual TEARS in her eyes , “ hi ! hi , oh my god , are you okay ? “ she sniffled as she fought the urge to cry , leaning back to look at the girl hard in the face , “ h-how are you ? uh , how old are you now ? god , how LONG has it been ? “ she didn’t know how to begin or explain , how could she ? everyone thought she was dead , right ? surely she’d been FOUND in her bed eventually when she stopped attending class and didn’t show up for sorority events.
Morgan continued to shake her head and repeat “no,” over and over and over again, even as Nari held her. She couldn’t possibly believe that her stepsister who had also died would be here. – how could any of them be here?
As Nari began to ask what seemed like a million questions, Morgan pushed her away and stood up with her head in her hands. “This can’t be happening. I’m having an acid flashback or something. Something is fucked. I can’t handle this right now.” She knelt on the ground and said to herself, What if this isn’t a flashback? What if this is the real deal? Shit, I shouldn’t be here either.
Morgan stood up and turned around seeing Nari in, of course, a fur coat. Morgan instantly started laughing. Only Nari would be wearing a fur coat after dying and coming back. She pointed and laughed, about the coat, yes, but also out of sheer disbelief.
“Answers. I think the drugs have gone to my head and I’m talking to air right now so I don’t know how I am. I’m 23 – but should be older, I think? It’s 2018. And this decade blows.”
She looked down at her boots compared to Nari’s shoes. The two were so different, but when that girl went missing, Morgan practically lost her mind. That’s something Nari probably wouldn’t believe in a million years considering how Morgan treated her when they were both alive. After they found her stepsister’s body, life changed. Morgan had already lost her father. Her mother was two-faced and her surrogate daddy figure – Kurt Cobain – had killed himself. On top of it, let’s see all the torture your sister endured!
With all these thoughts running through her head, Morgan stopped and looked at Nari, knowing she was real. She basically dug her claws into the girl’s back as she held so tight. “I can’t believe I’m not alone anymore,” she sniffed, trying not to reveal tears.
“Want to hear something funny? – I died too.” Her dark sense of humor reared its ugly head as defense mechanisms often do.
Simi raised her brows, sandwich midway stuffed in her mouth. The thought of causing trouble and getting a drink sounded like some mess she wasn’t into, but it is 2018, and apparently it mean’t she wasn’t gonna get back those red shoes to go back home; sadly. “ Mm~ Okay, I’d love a drink. But as far as getting into trouble…today is my lame day. I’d rather get drunk and eat away my feelings while watching this funny show called The Office…” She shrugged. “ If I’m being a square now, you haven’t seen me after 5 shots”
This brown-haired girl seemed to talk through a mouth full of sandwich. Morgan didn’t know what to think or if this girl would be able to hang but she wasn’t about to turn down the opportunity. …yet.
There was mention of her wanting to eat her feelings. That must mean some serious shit was going on in that girl’s head because who wants to eat their feelings when you’ve got drugs, alcohol and a million ways to get in trouble and not get caught? That’s the path Morgan thought was more sensible. Fuck The Office – whatever that was.
Morgan could tell the girl in front of her wanted something, otherwise she wouldn’t have said anything. If anything, Morgan told herself that this could be her chance to deflower a delicate being.
georgie seemed to be in the right place and the right time. sure, she was still trying to get used to everything. she had years that she had to catch up on, but partying was timeless. or at least she had hoped that nothing had changed. if anything, the drugs should get better as time goes on, and there was only one way to find out.
hearing the girl crying out, she had a smirk on her face as the other turned to face her. “i’m afraid that won’t be possible though, babe, since it’s my job to be the center of attention wherever i go,” she teased… kind of. “but sure. i hope your idea of trouble isn’t going to disappoint me though. what did you have in mind?” she asked with a subtle raise to her brow, smirk still lingering on pouty lips.
Morgan’s mouth was still partially open from yelling out into the nothingness. It immediately turned into a pleased smile. Another girl seeking the center of attention? Morgan couldn’t help but love it. They could make such a team of hellions.
She put her hands on the curve of her hips and looked the girl up and down before saying anything. Finally, out came a, “So, it would seem I have a fellow partying soul sister, huh?” She laughed at herself and then thought of Nari, her actual stepsister, how she’d gone missing and found dead. Morgan was sure her smile had faded for a moment, but she snapped back quickly wanting nothing more than to get fucked up so she could forget the memories she did have.
“You want some trouble? Let’s get that drink first and then, just maybe, I’ll be able to score us something a little better.” Not bothering to see if she was being followed, she walked toward the local pub.
It was a day to get shitfaced and forget anything ever existed.
