hashtacj

Latest Posts by hashtacj

If there was a more perfect person for Suraj to meet and pull out this side of them, she didn't know who that would be. She wasn't perfect by any means and she had done plenty of horrible things with the stroke of a few keys, but if you were looking for a good time, she'd give you one. Whether it be dancing or watching movies, she'd welcome in those who are a little bit different and a little bit more understanding. She was selfish and she had no excuse to give, but when she cared, she cared with all of her heart even if she couldn't admit it. Her heart could be set on fire with love and admiration of the people here and she couldn't imagine the possibility of herself being happy but she was the first to admit she was a lonely soul but the last to admit she was one who needed a hand to hold... truth was, she needed help but she couldn't imagine who she'd be if she were happy. Finding Arissa Hatzi? She needed a night like this, talking to and having fun with a kind soul.

"There it is!" Arie cheered, not with malice but pure excitement that they were dancing after all. "All in the hips, baby. Gimmie some, gimmie what you got." Whatever the song was, some form of grungy pop or some cover, it didn't matter when they were having fun. Even Lacey, someone she had also met by chance, danced with them. "You got this Suraj!"

Suraj smiled. They didn’t feel that important in the diner, but anyone who attempted to make another person feel better about themselves, was great in their eyes, and they tried really hard not to fight it. Though within the diner environment, they did their best because they feared the day they would be out of a job, and needed to find something else. After all, they had a working visa now. They nodded. “Far better circumstances, yes,” they agreed, though they didn’t elaborate. They felt more like a dormouse at work, and here at least… there was some confidence, some comfort. They felt less judged, less pulled down. 

Find their moves. Suraj wasn’t about to break down in the one dance routine they’d studied and remembered from one of their all-time favourite bollywood movies. It wasn’t a thing they were ever ready to share with anyone, but the way Arie pulled them along felt thrilling enough that the confidence wave continued. They felt less aware of everyone around them, less worried about their own decisions, moves, facial expressions. They laughed when Arie started dancing with a stranger by the name of Lacey, and joined them, trying to copy the movement, taking it a step further because they felt like Arie wouldn’t judge them for it.

She was, important to her, yes, but not in the sense that the other might realize. It was drilled into her head, more less violently, that she should avoid the past. It would help diminish any hope that those who loved her mirrored appearance and not just that, but any questions of memories that may or may not of been her own. "You are," Arie mumbled, eyes flickering to look anywhere else than the woman who looked at her as if she held the key for not world peace, but a peace of mind for the woman herself. WHY HAD THEY SENT HER HERE OF ALL PLACES? The only answer that registered in her mind was unfathomable. It only followed with another that seemed less but still concerning never the less. Destroy the part of her that wasn't her, or destroy the part that was. She was able to adapt easily; she could very well become Aretha Hatzi. Was that the goal? Or the opposite... Her head swam.

Her fingers itched to type. Her legs shook with the need to flee. "Before then... All I could remember was Arie," But Aretha, it seemed, came later. "Sometimes, I think, I saw you when I dreamt but I never knew what it meant." It came out choked and true, even if she only learned later on. This was her other half, whether she willingly stole it or not. "I'm sorry I didn't remember completely."

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck ! They were going to blame this on her if it weren't some fucked up way of telling her what she wouldn't admit. There wasn't some small possibility in the void of existence that told her this was a good thing, much less unplanned thing. "I'm not much of a joker these days," came in a serious voice, which is more or less of a lie. There were only some she was close to in a town like this, listed under her broadcast engineering job as Aretha ... something. Hatzi would've been too on the nose. It didn't matter. They weren't names she grew attached to much less cared for. Hashtag, although given by the Dead Idol, was her chosen nickname. In some ways, it was a safety blanket at the end of the day. She liked Rita though, given to her by her boss. Meow, by Ziggy, that sounded peculiarly like MOM. "You know my name." Her voice is soft. Distant almost. As if she's searching memories, no matter how pretensive it was. "You're ---... You're important to me, right?" Or rather were, once upon a time, as if she hadn't suddenly thought to pretend I DON'T REMEMBER YOU. What else could she do?

"Did we know each other before the Daniels adopted me?" Random name, but hey, she couldn't very well call herself Aretha Hatzi. Someone might notice and not keep the assumption that the woman wasn't missing or declared dead after being missing for so long. "Or the Scaredy Cat? It was probably the Scaredy Cat."

It's always a debate in her mind; just how much would she give the residents of any place she settles, even just for a day or a few months, the truth of herself. In this moment, however, it was a side of truth. No, she wouldn't rat the woman out. In fact, she found a sort of adrenaline in the woman's action. "I haven't decided yet actually. There's a pretty sick green and blue one I've had my eye on for a while but I'm also thinking three shades of purple that just came in. In again, I'll probably end up getting them both." She was, after all, a sucker for wigs. In fact, reds were typically used AS Hashtag. A mask on top of the mask safely tucked away in a place no one would find. "I think fun and shiny but I'm not above a full face of makeup. Oh here, look." she says, pulling out her phone to look up the wigs she had been looking at.

Frozen in place while the other looked over the display, brown eyes wide as Ava waited for some indication of whether or not Arie would sell her out for what she'd seen, the hairdresser realized that she vaguely recognized the woman as one of her neighbors. They'd only crossed paths a few times, as was bound to happen living in such close quarters in her already miniscule hometown, but she really didn't know much about Aretha personally. So when she took on a chipper tone, making it clear that she didn't intend to snitch, Ava's lungs deflated with relief, returning Arie's smile with one of her own. "Well, what does your new wig look like? It's kind of my area of expertise, so I can help you find just the right thing to make the whole look pop," the brunette boasted, flipping her own raven locks back with a flick of her free hand. Hoping that her offer to help could serve as a token of her gratitude for her silence, Ava turned her attention to the palettes of eyeshadows across the aisle, the tube of stolen lipstick still burning a hole in her pocket. "So, are you just looking for something fun and shiny for your eyes and lips, or did you want a full face worth of new makeup?"

Arie knew that was coming but hey, she was nothing if not prepared. "I'm from a tourist trap in Greece, though I've been traveling for a few years. I guess I found something I enjoy in the strange sense of familiarity if I decided to stay here, kourasménos ánthropos." What that was, Arie hadn't decided yet. Even if this was it, this was the last stop and she truly was abandoned here, she couldn't pinpoint the exact excuse that wasn't an excuse at all. "Spoken from experience? I don't remember much these days about home, but I think I enjoyed the possibility of never seeing someone again much less having all of my secrets known to everyone and their mother." This conversation was... normal? and erratic. "It helps that I see code in everything, even veterinarian medicine. There's a code in us." And the amount of possibilities it would take for two people to meet in a place like this. The probability of them liking each other enough to continue a conversation? Far more larger. "I can do tthat. I will also tell you, I live in those shitty apartments but I spoil Ziggy like crazy. I think he eats better than I do, actually. But if you ever want to check it out and approve it, you can. I don't mind -- I'll see if I can get a day off and make a day out of it if Ziggy wants to."

Matevos grinned, then frowned. He didn’t comment on it however, as much as he wanted to. He was certain he was going to coax her into doing it, and then he was going to regret it afterwards. Though the act sounded very nice. He nodded. “Where are you from?” he asked. “It is definitely a change, but… you know, they might know each other, but nobody really knows each other. That’s kind of the dangerous thing about small towns, everyone knows something about someone else they’d like to judge about.” He smiled, noting the pride in her voice, very much enjoying how she seemed to be enjoying what she was doing. He understood that, it was why he’d never give up his own job as a vet, even though it was definitely made more difficult by his life in crime. “Depends on who does it,” he suggested. “Your job also sounds like fun, but you’d probably have more fun doing it.” But, his job was definitely a lot of fun, though perhaps mostly after hours when he could cuddle the dogs and take them on walks. Not so much the diagnosing of animals, unless if it was things that could be easily healed. “Well, you can always bring Ziggy in and see if he takes to any of the cats, I wouldn’t really let these poor creatures stay over at anyone’s before meeting their present company… you know, kids, animals, other pets. I’ve had too many regrets over the years.”

BOLD what applies.

PERSONAL ; homeless | poor | middle class | comfortable | rich | single | relationship | it's complicated | dating | engaged | married | divorced | widowed | parent | only child | middle child | youngest child | oldest child | glasses/contacts | hearing aid | braces | wheel chair | cane | service dog | cis-man | cis-woman | trans-man | trans-woman | non-binary | demigirl | agender | homosexual | heterosexual | bisexual | pansexual | asexual | demisexual | blind/visually impaired | mute | deaf | depression | anxiety | autism | PTSD or ASD | ASPD | personality disorder | panic disorder | OCD | other

BELONGINGS ; car | bike | scooter | motorcycle | truck | mansion | house | apartment | RV | trailer | phone | desktop | television | watch | business | life insurance | land | PETS ; cat | dog | rodent | bird | reptile | other

APPEARANCE ; hair - crew cut | pixie cut | wolf cut | bob | jaw length | shoulder length | elbow length | hip length or longer | massive wig collection | black | dark brown | brown | light brown | auburn | red | ginger | strawberry blonde | dirty blonde | blonde | platinum | gray | silver | white | other color | facial hair . eyes - dark brown | hazel | amber | blue | green | gray . body type - muscular | athletic | lean | average | scrawny | curvy | fat | chubby | piercing | tattoo

TYPE OF DRUNK ; happy | sad | risk-taker | angry | philosophical | doesn’t get drunk easily | doesn’t (usually) drink VICES ; smoking | drinking | illicit drugs | prescription drugs

OTHER ; broken a bone | gotten stitches | had a serious illness | had a near death experience | killed someone | tried and failed to kill someone | had an unrequited crush | had sex and regretted it | had a one-night stand | experimented with their sexuality | ran away from home | learned an instrument | gotten a noticeable scar | been bullied | bullied someone | saved someone’s life | cheated on someone | been cheated on | been betrayed | taken the fall to protect someone | been arrested | been wanted by police | goes by a nickname | been blackmailed | had an attempt on their life | gotten away with a crime | gone on a road trip

Well excuuUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUu se me

"You're still important." Arie pointed out. Diners worked a lot like computers, as did any business and their employees. She saw it as coding rather than the human race. Weird? Mabe. It helped, a little, but it was just a reminder to pay better close attention to her surroundings. She had a habit of scrolling the dark web and chatting with a penpal of sorts once she got into it. The world could've literally ended, and in some ways it had, with the recent death effecting everyone around her in a way that couldn't get to her the same way. If it had been someone else, someone close to her whether she'd admit it, she'd be a fucking mess right now... but either way, she'd still be here in this moment. She just needed to unwind regardless. "It's a pleasure to meet you officially Suraj. Better circumstances too, I'm sure." Because this wasn't for some business gain but rather personal and Arie needed personal.

Arie laughed at their joke, facial features warming with amusement. "Everyone has moves. We just need to find yours." Maybe a stretch but as she took their hand and lead them to the dance floor, she locked eyes with a familiar figure and called out to her. "Show me what you got Lacey." For a moment she let go of their hand and joined the woman, giving them a show. "Sometimes it's in the hips like this."

“Oh uhm, no worries!” Suraj cut in right away. It was almost normal to be ignored when they were working, whether they were serving or washing dishes. “I uhm, I mostly wash dishes anyway, so you probably wouldn’t have seen me anyway,” they added quickly. That and the fact that Suraj was great at being unnoticed. “Nice to meet you, Arie,” they said quickly, to make sure they wouldn’t forget the name. “I am certain you aren’t,” they added. “And else you can blame it on the music being too loud,” they suggested. A joke that had been used on them twice already in different circumstances, and one they liked. They blushed offer, having to consider it for a moment before letting out a laugh. “Sure,” they said. “Though let's keep calling them moves and not good moves because I am a very bad dancer.” They held out a hand to her, given how crowded the dancefloor was, attempting a self assured smile. Rare moments of confidence had to be taken advantage of, and the fact that they’d seen her about a dozen times now, made it much easier. They’d rely on the safety of the crowd.

She preferred the comfort of hiding behind a computer for two reasons, one of which might be easier for a trained eye to pick up on; 1. when it was discovered she had a skillset and quickness of computers, the Dead Idols spoke less and less to her face to face. They didn't need to be so heavy handed with her as they would someone who'd be trained in hands on tactile training such as fighting or toxicology. 2. being awkward meant that it weeded out certain people. Could you tolerate awkwardness? Yeah? Slide in, buckle down, and wait out the ride in which the end meant Arie actually gave a shit about someone. She wasn't sure about Sera persay and how the other felt, but Arie? Arie cared for the the little family so much that even if she couldn't say it, she showed it. Her skills with Dusty's allowed her to keep the station tightly locked down and at the end of the day, she was more than happy to play with little Crash and keep him entertained while they worked. In fact, anyone at the station was. If she didn't know this was a mission she was waiting for, she'd almost be glad to stay here forever. A side effect of six months of silence on the Dead Idol's end but they knew that, didn't they? They had to know that. Wasn't that the reason their mirroirs could eventually blend in so well?

Arie neared closer, seeing the man struggle. A small frown graced her lips as she saw him struggling. If anything, it was care that told her Dustin needed sleep, not more coffee. "I'd say yes but I think Sera might kick my ass if I take you on a late night adventure that voids you from sleep. In again, why not?" You could call it machoism if you wanted but it was something else. A joke, maybe. She admired his dedication to the station but she also wanted to reassure him that it would still be standing when they'd get back. Closing the distance between them now, she took the coffee pot from him and put it back on the burner. Flicking the machine off, she turned back, "I think I can handle that. No fire, got it." At the mention of Crash's godmother, Arie gave a little laugh. "I think you should warn her, not me. I'm pretty sure Boyd has a crush." Boyd, some normally faceless what.... janitor? Mic man? Sometimes it depended on the day. "No fires and definitely no alarming godmom, I promise."

The night was still, tranquil save for the pattering against the sills of the station's windows, and the tower above the building echoing an eerie howl of the plaintive winds as if it were a woeful virago. Dustin had always been a diligent pupil, at the expense of his own health, and it persisted into the summertime without the diluting of coursework — instead, he was battened by the self-imposed concerns of the time the pair would be spending away in the first half of August before classes resumed. His head craned aside when he heard the shuffling of feet entering the break room, his alertness of his surroundings making up for the shortcomings of Sera's ever-dwindling hearing ( a facet of which, he still did fret. ) He smiled warmly at Aretha, partial instinct thereby overridden out of compassion for his employee. As awkward as she seemed, at times, the empath had kept a studious eye on her — sometimes, it felt like an armor he was forced to don. The frigidity of his thoughts, especially given the news of Willow's demise, had an engine purring with chariness for his surroundings. However, he'd had a fluttering in his chest from the moment he showed the woman the reason for the Graves-Seongs' paucity of promptness to her application. Anyone who was so privy to a recluse who melted at the sight of Tyche Jungsoo was staunch, in his book ( and yes, he did keep track, hyperthymesia recording it for him. )

"Rita," he'd coined his own nickname — partially on account of correcting a mishap of Sera becoming lost in translation at first meeting, "I can come with if you can drive." A joke hung in the void that he couldn't, failing to bloom as he fumbled to grip the handle of the coffee pot with dystonic fingers. His palm pressed firmly against it, thumb gripping the top of the handle, whilst his recoiled digits were in rigor mortis against his palm, tendons of his wrist visibly tensing as he kept it outstretched long enough to pour out the mug in his other palm. Carefully balanced on the partially ( but significantly less ) stiff fingers of his opposite hand, he held it out to the engineer. His amblyopic eye shook nervously as his strength dwindled, mustering enough to empty the pot into a second mug. "I thought I'll stay and record stuff, get a headstart for the next couple weeks... Cohosts can take the live stuff, just —" A yawn intercepted, blearily sticking his hand into a hole of his distressed Gengar sweater to rub against his shoulder blade. "Don't let anybody burn down the studio. Dios mio." Sheepish when he splashed the coffee over the mug a bit, hands obstinately refusing to cooperate in full, he turned to face her. "Think you can handle it, kid?" Pausing, the two-toned metalhead pouted his lip, myriad of piercings protruding, and nodded vaguely down the hill outside. A branch was thumping against the pane. "I'm, uh, gonna have Crash's godmother stay while we're out. So don't be alarmed."

She gave a small but mischievous smile. "I wasn't suggesting YOU, but I hear you." Chances are if she was having a bad day, you'd probably be able to convince her to smash someone's windows out. She'd be sneakier about it though -- as sneaky as someone who needed to stay hidden could be, anyway. "Kind of both? I'm not used to small towns where everybody knows everybody. It's definitely a change for me." Arie admitted, leaning back in her seat to point at the brilliant idea. "Me either, but I'll find someone. Just watch. It needs to happen." Hell, maybe she'd fund it. Just because she lived in a sketchy apartment didn't mean she didn't have money. Whether through the station, the Dead Idol or side gigs on the internet ... Mum's the word. "I keep the show going and up to date, computer and technical wise. Some days I set up the live broadcasts. Most nights, I'm making sure quality issues aren't just a cord issue or a software issue." she admitted, voice somewhat filled with pride. "I'm sure your job is much more fun though." As for her wants in an animal, she gave a small shrug. "I get that. I like cats because sometimes I'm not home for too long and I don't have to take them out every few hours for a walk. It seems I have less time these days." But to the question of the matter, she wasn't entirely sure. "Maybe. I have a tuxedo named Ziggy and I don't know, think maybe he needs a buddy but I also know some cats just don't mix well."

Matevos - who did not not enjoy violence - really had to think about the offer. Smashing things did sound like a fun thing to do, and he could use something to get his mind off of things, but then there was the fact that vandalism was against the law and he’d only just come out of police custody. “Mentally, I’d say, it definitely is the type of situation where I’d gladly take you up on that offer. But I promised to stay out of trouble, and I think smashing someone’s car windows is the exact opposite of that.” He looked thoughtful at the other when the ‘vaguely familiar’ was uttered, and then grinned. “You mean you think you know them? Or you think you know someone like them?” he asked, because he was always a little curious when people spoke in vague terms. Not just when they used the word ‘vaguely’. “Someone should, I would make it into a comic… sadly I don’t know how to draw.” Or write stories, or even how to come up with them. Though he would love to make a story about superhero dogs, had that been done already? “Aah engineer,” he said, as if he knew exactly what that meant, though confusion was clear on his face. “What does a broadcast engineer do?” He knew Dusty and Sera, though not as intimately as perhaps he should in a small town like this. “A few yes, I keep mostly dogs, since cats tend to find a home much quicker. People have different expectations for dogs. Are you looking for a cat?” 

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck ! They were going to blame this on her if it weren't some fucked up way of telling her what she wouldn't admit. There wasn't some small possibility in the void of existence that told her this was a good thing, much less unplanned thing. "I'm not much of a joker these days," came in a serious voice, which is more or less of a lie. There were only some she was close to in a town like this, listed under her broadcast engineering job as Aretha ... something. Hatzi would've been too on the nose. It didn't matter. They weren't names she grew attached to much less cared for. Hashtag, although given by the Dead Idol, was her chosen nickname. In some ways, it was a safety blanket at the end of the day. She liked Rita though, given to her by her boss. Meow, by Ziggy, that sounded peculiarly like MOM. "You know my name." Her voice is soft. Distant almost. As if she's searching memories, no matter how pretensive it was. "You're ---... You're important to me, right?" Or rather were, once upon a time, as if she hadn't suddenly thought to pretend I DON'T REMEMBER YOU. What else could she do?

"Did we know each other before the Daniels adopted me?" Random name, but hey, she couldn't very well call herself Aretha Hatzi. Someone might notice and not keep the assumption that the woman wasn't missing or declared dead after being missing for so long. "Or the Scaredy Cat? It was probably the Scaredy Cat."

ARISSA HAD FINALLY GOTTEN BACK INTO THE FULL swing of her content creation, now that some time had passed after the discovery of the missing girl's body. The hot topic of the internet seemed to pass quickly, and it didn't take long for most people, besides the ones that lived in the small town to move onto to something else grabbing their attention. Eyes were on her phone, scanning the analytics of her most recently posted video, as she brought the opening to her togo cup of caramel latte, trying not to feel any true disappointment in the lower than usual numbers. After taking a break like she had, it should have only been expected. Brown eyes flickered up from the screen momentarily to find a table she could take a seat at while finishing her beverage, gaze landing on a sight that made the food critic do a double take. The age progression images made from her missing sister were something Arissa had spent plenty of time memorizing throughout the years, even if by now she was pretty sure she was the only one in her family even taking note of the more recent ones, so much so that they started to feel like a person she would eventually see in real life. There was some kind of statistic floating around about each person in the world had a certain number of people in the world that looked similar to them. And there was also the fact that age progression wasn't a perfect science. But neither of those two thoughts were at the top of her mind as she stared at the familiar face that she was already convinced was the sister she had once been so close to. Even her voice didn't sound too different, just matured. "Is that a joke?" Arissa had always been hopeful when it came to the topic of her sister, foolishly so she had even been told once or twice, to still hold on so tightly after all these years. Maybe that was why she had this idea that the recognition of each other could be so simple. And accurate. "Aretha, it's me. I can't believe this."

WHO: Arissa @couldvebccn WHERE: THE CREAMERY ICE CREAM & COFFEE BAR.

She was tired, so tired she almost found herself in the same predicament as someone she spoke to earlier that week -- but whatever his reason had been, hers was different. Between working at the station and spending most of her time on her computer elsewhere, she felt like she could take a nap and only be rested if it had been a month rather than a few hours. She'd probably do that once she finished the code she had been working on but for now? On her fourth cup of coffee, she reached out to give someone a fist bump. Arie knew the person but the voice seemed far away rather than passing her on the way to get something for themselves. "Chill out on the coffee, Are. You'll never sleep again." they teased her and her heavy head shook no, shoulders shrugging. "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Bad joke? Too soon? Ah, whatever.

The person mumbled and Arie looked up at them only for her eyes to meet someone else's. A familiar person with a set of eyes peculiarly similar to her own. In fact, she couldn't ask why because she already knew. Of all places the powers of the Dead Idol could stick her, they chose the place with Aretha Hatzi's sister. The sister she looked like and DNA wise WAS. They hadn't told her much about Aretha, just the basics, the rest she learned by deep diving Aretha's entire existence from birth down to the potential second she disappeared off the face of the Earth. She'd be lying if she had said she didn't check in on the Hatzis, including Arissa, from time to time, but it was less frequent than it had been when she first started. "Do I know you?" is all that she found herself managing to ask, coffee cup lingering around her mouth. If she ran now, someone would definitely notice.

Emotions weren't something she was taught per say but rather something she was taught could drive someone's choices. While the powers that be didn't tell her not to feel, she knew better than to admit she had any feelings out loud. Maybe she was stubborn, one way or another, imbedded in her stolen DNA. It would be better for all involved if she didn't feel anything for them in the end -- and yet there she was with a sort of pink in her cheeks that might admit embarrassment for being so into what she was doing that she hadn't noticed past the sense of familiarity. "I'm sorry that I was so focused on my work that I couldn't see you," which seemed genuine and if not key in the fact that she was flirting with them. "I'm Arie and I promise I'm not as rude as I seem." and despite the fact that she had, had a few shoots of Tequila already, she wasn't drunk. Warm maybe but one of the perks of being a mirroir was that she wasn't like most people. "Care to dance, Suraj? I bet you've got a few moves in you."

Suraj had a way of spending their weekend nights in clubs. It wasn’t because they had any type of dancing ability, or that they loved alcohol. Both were very untrue. They didn’t drink, they danced but only when they were pulled onto the dancefloor. It was mostly that they could disappear into the crowds, feel safe for a moment among the many sweating bodies. They were an introvert, but that didn’t matter when they could barely hear anyone anyway. And that was the best thing about going to the club, there was rarely much talking involved. They didn’t even tense up when someone leaned closer to them. “Oh uhm… you spend late nights at the diner where I work,” they said in response, smiling, because Suraj’s main point of contact was their service job. They’d seen her typing away on her laptop some nights, and they’d always wondered about what she did. But she’d seemed so invested that they hadn’t dared to ask, but it was inspiring. They always felt like they made much more progress on their film script if they’d spend the evening watching her work. "I'm Suraj," they introduced themselves.

WHO: Dusty @drvgonbvnny WHERE: 107.5 BLACK DRAGON PEARL RADIO.

It wasn't unusual for her to work just a little bit later than most at the radio station. While it had been an attempt to incorporate herself into the town and adjust while waiting for her assignment, she actually really enjoyed the work she did. The people she worked for, and under, were part of that. If you asked her, she wouldn't be able to say she cared for them exactly, and in fact she couldn't. They were causalities in her life. Telling people she didn't give a fuck about anyone would mean they'd survive another day and keep them from the truth of it all. Heartless? No, she liked them too much to pull them down with her. Their bullshit and her bullshit were mighty different. So in the end, it really was a never ending nightmare of wanting to love these people and knowing she'd have to leave them one day.

Hearing her stomach growl, she put her headphones down and went in search of food in the break room. She had thought everyone left but she wasn't surprised when she saw Dusty there, hunched over a thing of coffee probably. "You look how I feel but good news is, I think the sound issue is a cord thing. We'll have to get another one." Because let's be honest, between the two of them? They kept every mechanical detail so neat you could graze it with a fine toothed comb and not find an issue. The cord might account for the fact that the last show had a slight cut here and fizzle there. Sometimes, cords just go bad. She would take care of it because Dusty and Sera had a baby to take care of whereas Ziggy could handle waiting for his feeder to go off... but there he was, and Arie wasn't alone once again.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: Knowing you won't be in one place for too long so you don't care about the safety of possessions you have enough money to buy ten more times but you adopted a cat you worship so you install extra locks on your door to keep him safe. Yes, I'm talking about Ziggy the cat.

hair, tongue, fingers

Hair: How many wigs do you own?

Arie has a collection of wigs in different colors but she prefers her red wigs the most. x, x.

Tongue: What was in your last meal?

What is in Shrimp Ramon noodles anyway? She'll have to look that up.

Fingers: Do you play an instrument?

She plays the piano. In fact, she likes playing modern music on the piano the most.

WITH: Suraj @b4rredteeth WHERE: Scaredy Cat

She'd been there a couple of times since arriving in Anchorage -- not enough to be a regular, no, but enough to recognize some faces that might be. On this particular night she found familiarity in a face from somewhere else that she couldn't quite place. Had they spoken before? She couldn't remember but maybe that was the Tequila talking as she leaned closer just to be able to hear what they'd say in response, asking, "You're familiar? Now why's that?" Flirty, yes, also a side effect of the Tequila but also because she didn't find it too difficult to find something attractive about someone, no matter the gender, and whoo, there was something attractive about them in this moment she couldn't put her finger on.

𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄❜𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓

--- living in the seal harbor apartments, arie made the choice to fix up her apartment as best as she could. the paint is chipping in some areas and the most furniture she has would consist of a bed frame made out of pallets, a couch, two tvs (which one is sometimes playing a fireplace scene) and a place to leave her computer things. there are candles, plants and lots, and lots of blankets because it's always cold and arie likes fluffy pieces of comfort. if you're someone she likes, she keeps your favorites stocked in the kitchen area. her favorite part? the one window in which her cat, ziggy, likes to lay and wait in so she always sees him when she's approaching from below. does the place allow animals? maybe not but they also haven't fixed her "kitchen" sink so they can get over it.

She'd suppose that would be true ... if not for the fact that she knew that one way or another, someone could escape their tragic lives. Hashtag wasn't sure whether or not Aretha Hatzi ever actually escaped her existence in Greece but if she hadn't wanted to be found, no one would know, hence the missing aspect of the woman's life and her curse of sharing her face. There also came a possibility that maybe she hadn't escaped anything. You needed DNA to make a mirroir, right? The thought lingered in her mind though she never quite did anything with it. Why would she? This was her life. The original Aretha Hatzi's life was her own, even if it was over ... but sharing the same face meant that sometimes, she shared the same name. "Shame. There's a whole big world out there," Outside of Anchorage, Alaska. She wouldn't argue. There was a reason he thought such a thing. "I've been here for maybe six months, seven tops. I don't get out much." Between work, her apartment, the dinky diner she frequented often when she wasn't being dragged to Dusty and Sera's for dinner, or doing the same to some poor unlucky soul at her place. "I'm Arie, or Aretha if I don't like you." She laughed and while it sounded humored, she felt empty, but she could pretend. She had to. What were the odds she'd meet someone who knew Aretha once upon a time, much less MORE than one.

Staying here might just be, well, a dumb fuckin' thing to do. Grim smile besmirching his features, the mirthless laughter that escaped coincided the pinch of his digits dragging the joint away from his lips. Smoke dispelled through his nose in a whorl of dragon's breath, the sound of a horn culling the silence of the wharf below remained to send chills running down his spine. Of his peripheral, the shifting figure appeared as those silhouettes that would dance about or peer into his line of vision, and only when he turned his head, did he ascertain they were truly standing there. The face was vaguely wonted, but that could be from anywhere: Anchorage was not so small that everyone knew everyone, and he'd been here-and-there for so much of his life, faces were a phantom grasp on cognition. "Mm, not all of us got that choice," he confessed, lackadaisical complacency to his own fate. It was harder now to morph into oblivion and become a blip on the radar with seven kids in tow. Cyrek couldn't uproot them like his siblings, forsake them to a childhood filled with uncertainty more than it was, as it stood. Flicking ash from the end of it, squandered into the dewy grass, he nodded to her. "You from here? Feels like I've seen you 'round." Wouldn't be a surprise — the pub saw a wide range of people, milling in and out.

"Oh," came out softly, lips pursing in a sort of thoughtful way. "is it a kind of smash the windows out of someone's car or worse? Because let me know, I got a bat." Was she kidding? Maybe, maybe not. The good thing was the fact that she wasn't judging, or maybe it was weird that she wasn't. Who knows? Social situations weren't her favorite thing. She preferred the company of a computer to most; besides the lucky few she actually liked. "You are totally right about that. I just can't get over the fact that people are VAGUELY familiar to me." That's not the entire accurate explanation as to why certain people seemed to vibrate at certain wavelengths in her vision but she didn't explain it. "Doom Woe sounds pretty badass if you ask me. Someone should get on that." What would his superpower be? In her luck, it would just be a slightly mysteriously annoying figure, but wouldn't it be fun if a TV show could warp to the individual viewer? "You wouldn't know my voice. I'm the broadcast engineer so I'm behind the scenes, just like I like it. Dusty and Sera needed someone to step in when little Crash was born, so when they let me, I keep things running smoothly." Learning that he was a vet sparked something in her, so she curiously asked, "You're a vet huh? Got any cats needing a home by chance?" Sure, there were shelters, but Arie also knew some vets kept pets who needed medical help with them while looking for homes, if possible.

“Ooh, well, this is a special situation,” Matevos said, though he’d be lying if he said it was the first time. He’d had special situations before. “A friend of mine is in a very terrible predicament and I can’t do anything to help her,” he said, with a sigh. “Anchorage you mean?” He asked, a tired grin replacing his worried expression. “You wouldn’t be wrong, but such a fun place as well.” He looked confused at the response and shook his head. “Doom Woe? Is that a tv character or something?” He lay the British accent on thick, just to make sure he wasn’t missing something as a Brit. “Matevos, though Doom would be a much cooler name. What do you do at the radio station? Presentor? Maybe I should know your voice, we have the radio on constantly in the waiting room of my practice. I’m a vet.”

If there was anyone who'd understand the itch and pull to do something NEGATIVE in town, it would be Arie. Her choice in poison was damage and destruction, however, but she'd never ever shame someone else's vibe ... maybe to their face, depending on the choice. Some simple thievery wasn't enough to make her want to ruin the other's life simply by looking for a whiff of her existence in code. No, in fact, she digged whatever excuse the other could have for finding the other with the burning hot lipstick tube, figuratively and acidic-ly threatening to eat a hole in her jacket pocket under the risk of being caught. Arie glanced at the display for a moment, probably not quelling the nagging feeling the other felt, but breaking eye contact for just enough time to pick up an item as if to investigate.

Her eyes move and she smiles at the other. They met, maybe, once or twice but Arie found herself splitting her time between the station and various places horrendously. "Hey-ya! I need a new wig but with every great wig, comes the need for makeup that matches." If it's not obvious that she had seen it, it might not be all that obvious that she wasn't going to draw attention to the fact.

( july 25, down the rabbit hole underground mall ) @anchoragestarters

Ava knew this was a bad idea. Worse than that, she felt like she was regressing, resorting to something she used to do for kicks as a high schooler, and she wasn't exactly eager to revisit the tumultuous days of her adolescence. On the contrary, it was embarrassing for the youngest Adler to admit to herself that she was even considering the possibility of petty theft as a way to entertain herself. But after the events of the last few months, a newfound sense of restlessness had settled into her bones, refusing to let her function normally without feeling like she wanted to jump out of her skin, so she was itching to do... something to quiet the festering feeling brewing in her gut.

Ambling through a cosmetics stand, she looked around to make sure no one was paying close attention to her, eyes running over the items on display with practiced disinterest. She let her fingers run over the merchandise, picking up a few tester items and eyeing them for a moment before she wandered over to the array of lipsticks. Carefully slipping a tube off of the display, Ava tucked it into her jacket pocket, a small grin blooming across her lips at the long-dormant thrill that ran down her spine over the miniscule victory. But of course, that was the exact moment she looked up and made eye contact with someone just a few feet away. Did they see that? Should I just play it cool? She was usually quick on her feet, but in that moment, the brunette felt like a deer in headlights, tactlessly blurting out, "Uhhh... heeeey. What brings you here?"

💐, 💘, ❣

💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?

Arie has never really had a genuine love romantically given her situation but if she could, she'd be drawn to someone who lingers even when she's being kind of mean and pushing everyone away. Someone who listens even when she doesn't know they're paying attention to her ramblings. Maybe someone who holds her (as touch is definitely a love language for her).

💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?

Let's be honest here. I can't tell you what personality she'd be attracted to other than it would be a surprise to her if she woke up one day and realized, "I'm attracted to / in love with this person." She'd think her type is the strong macho guy and end up being more drawn to the opposite, and even gender.

❣ - Are they secretive about their romantic relationships or do they not stop talking about it?

She's had flings that if weren't for work in some way, she kept secret. She has to. Anyone who is a mirroir knows you can't have personal relationships outside of whatever you were mirrored for.

If she was being forced to live in this town as she waited for her order, she was going to at least explore it and have a little fun doing it. Every few days or even weeks, she picked a different spot and hung around it for a while. Today just happened to be the ranch with the bed and breakfast. If you asked her what she thought of it, she'd say... kind of dull, but in again, her definition of beauty was created distorted. It almost made her think of the word quaint; some idea of paradise in the middle of a warfare of wit and cruelty.

She stood there, lips around her cigarette watching the two with a squinting expression as if trying to see something better before Arie gave an innocent smile. "I think I found what I was looking for actually," which seemed flirtatious but the truth was, she was looking for nothing entirely. What the fuck was the reason she was sent to this place of all places? "found a handsome boy too. The horse, I mean." Teasing? Maybe. "Do you, or the ranch, offer lessons? I'd like to ride but it's been a few years." Not for her, not really, but there seemed to be an itch to ride now that she was here, seeing all of the horses.

starter for: open ! ( @anchoragestarters ) cap: (1/4) ! location: prancer's ranch/bed and breakfast spot ! time: later in the morning !

The ranch hand held the lead rope with the smallest sense of annoyance, the stallion beside him following obediently as the horse's tail swished back and forth behind his rider. The pair had grown rather attached due to the overall needs the ranch required. He took the leadrope and tied a quick undoing knot against the post, his hum escaping as he carefully took the bridle off of his shoulder. Dakota turned his head and soon felt a snort escape as the stallion made eye contact with him, almost curious yet almost as annoyed as him for being forced to work.

"We've literally been doing this for three years now, we can be annoyed when I wash you and get you fed." He spoke in a tone, acting as if the beast who carried him gave a damn as he walked forward. His hands soon held the bit as he carefully pushed it into the stallion's mouth, giving a pat on the neck as he fully moved the bridle over his ears before grasping and tightening the throat latch. His finger soon sticking underneath to ensure it wasn't too tight, but not loose enough either so it doesn't disappear while riding ... again.

"I know I know, it's annoying." He mumbled as he heard the snorts, soon moving and loosely throwing the reins on the side of the saddle horn closest to the seat. He then patted around, almost groaning in annoyance realizing he didn't have any of his important list of things he needed for the ranch with him. "Motherfucker..." He then moved and undid the lead rope, soon sticking his foot into the stirrup as mounted and clicked his tongue, the stallion snorting as he moved into a quickened canter feeling the added touch of his rider's heel.

The annoyance on the cowboy's face staying present as he arrived to the bed and breakfast, almost perking up a brow as his eyes met with someone. "May I help you find something or have you never seen a cowboy before and want to take in the view?" He teased, soon hopping down from the saddle as he moved the reins over the stallion's head and held them in his gloved hands. He awaited the answer, soon tying the reins to the tying post added in for the staff.

There REALLY wasn't much that made her lose her steely cool tone often. After all, she was meant for something else; not just living but rather living in the shadows. Being the glitch out of the corner of your eye, that determined whisper of "DID I JUST SEE THAT?". While she wasn't made to be a killer, she was in some aspects. The killer of hope, the killer of dreams, the reason you avoid the internet... and sometimes, only sometimes, a killer if needed. While she still hadn't been given her mission or reason for being in this town, she had gotten somewhat close to the people in it. Her definition of weird, is well, sparked by the video. An emotion rises in her ---- confusion.

The words out of her mouth are strange to her. "You need to give this to the police, man." Yeah, it's pretty obvious of what needed to happen. "Do you have cameras in here? Maybe it's..." Did she really have to say it? Whoever left the tape could've been the person involved.

Status: Open @anchoragestarters

Where: Slashback Videos(again). No cap!

Hunter stared at the new dvd on the shelf, dumbfounded by how and why it got there. He recognizes "the main character", of course he does, and it feels like some sort of sick joke that someone would pull something like this. They don't remember seeing this when they got a new shipment in and if they had seen it they probably wouldn't have put it out.

He can't seem to tear his eyes from it, mind filled with the possibilities of how it might have gotten there. Their only theory is someone must have broken into the store and put it on display, for some twisted reason. When someone walks up to him in the store, he's quick to respond. "My guess is as good as yours, I dunno how that got there. But whoever did this has gotta be real sick in the head to pull this kinda stunt. Honestly, I can hardly believe it."

🖤 & 💌

💌 - How would they confess to their love interest? Would they wait on a confession?

Arie tends to be very forth coming in a few aspects. If she likes-likes someone, she tends to be forward about it in the sense of, "Wanna come to my place?" but in the same notion, she tends to keep people at an arms length and pushes people away when they get too close for her taste emotionally. She'd be the type to need the other to take her hand and pull her close, and really tell her they feel the same way. Depending on the situation, she might even blurt out something like, "You're so stupid, I love you."

🖤 - What's something that will instantly make them dismiss someone as a romantic partner

Despite the fact that she doesn't let people in and does terrible things computer wise, she's not entirely heartless. If the partner is mean to her, mean to someone she cares for, hurts animals or children, is a terrible person all around, etc, that's the quickest way for Arie to slam the door on their face and maybe burn everything they own. She has SOME morals after all.

She wasn't entirely sure she felt emotions like sadness, grief, loss or some days even true joy. No, the feeling she held in her chest was something of a gnawing sort of knot of chest muscles. Her life was meant to be nomadic in a sense, never putting down roots, always being disposable if she were lucky to be forgotten or not. Dropping her in this danky and not so quaint place? Maybe she felt like IT WAS HER TIME. They swore she had a job to do but she hadn't heard a fucking peep from them since before she got here six months before. There wouldn't be a mission, there wouldn't be an end. They sent her to her demise, destined to become a forgotten member, forced to pretend she was Aretha Hatzi, but denying it in the same motion. Negative emotions didn't have a name to her in the same way; but she knew that she could either blame the original for her addictive and dangerous tendencies, or embrace them as if no, that's just me.

This wharf, in this moment, seemed like a meeting place for the emotional. Something was in the air. Arie let out a chuckle, shoulders bobbing. "I'm not much of a runner but thanks for the warning," she replied as her fingers searched for a cigarette. Menthol, some off brand of Newports, but still satisfying the craving she held now. "I wouldn't blame them if they do. Staying here might just be, well, a dumb fuckin' thing to do."

@anchoragestarters ; anchorage harbor ; CAP ( 0/4 )

The squalling clang-clang-clang of a metal bell where the barges were entombed in a temporal watery grave was overlooked by a hill where Cyrek stood now, hands stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie loosely clinging to the bag of bones. As a teenager, he could recall weaving in and out of the shipment freights in the deadened wintry nights with his band of degenerates, including Fallon and Stella — as an adult, he'd stalled on the thought of sneaking to one of the shipments and hiding out until it took him somewhere else. His first instinct to crop problems was always to pack up and skip town. Unfortunately, that was an unviable option now, his lower lip sucked in an encumberment of crooked teeth and worrying away at the skin. Ginger curls splayed over his countenance, the musk of saltwater wafting to his corroded nose as it was carried by the wind, grey skies clouding out the consistent sunshine. Eventually, his head shied away from the inlet he was staring at pensively as the approach of another person alerted the right half of his senses to their presence. It was scenic enough and a stone's throw from the wharf — he could see why people milled around for more than feeling sorry for themselves. "Heard it's goin' to Seattle, could catch it if you run, mate," he jested, dipping his head in the direction of the barge shipment. Bringing the joint he had been clutching onto back to his lips, he inhaled. "Already saw the for sale signs goin' up around Delilah's Den and Campbell Park. Reckon they'll sell as fast as they wanna beat it outta dodge?"

The guy's poor heart, she thought, before thinking about what it could do to his brain. "I wouldn't worry now. I'd worry if you keep doing it; that all catches up to you eventually." But maybe she's wrong and wouldn't she know it? IF SHE KNEW THE TRUTH, she'd be less concerned with whether he'd drop dead from a heart attack or his brain deciding to shut down. "Just don't go micronapping and find yourself in some weird situation. This place is weird enough as it is." Maybe it's weird, maybe she's had too many people asking her deep things that she finds herself not asking, not because she's not curious, but because she hated the twenty questions herself. If he wanted to tell her why he was worried, he could. She wouldn't push. "Woe is you," Arie let out a little laugh before extending a hand, "I'm Arie. You'd see me more, probably, if I didn't find myself devoted to my job at the radio station. So Woe, is that a middle name? Is your first name Doom?"

Matevos looked at the stranger, frowning, then made an effort to shrug. “A few,” he said. “Probably about ten every twenty-four hours,” he guessed. “Definitely eight every twenty-four hours.” He was making the same calculation, trying to figure out if he could kill himself with caffeine and if he should be worried. His heart was beating rapidly, yes. But also… he wasn’t technically human, he wasn’t sure if this was going to affect him the same way as it would the original Matevos Hakobyan. “I did have a few micro naps here and there,” he said. “But you know, it’s kind of hard… too much worrying,” he added. “Not that I have nightmares, but I always wake up again.” He sighed. “Oh woe is me.” He paused, let his head lean on his hands. “And who is you?” 

Americans and their need to join one thing with another ... but never mind the fact that she herself didn't have a specific citizenship, The one in Greece was sketchy at best considering Aretha Hatzi was presumed dead anyway. Pretty sure she'd be dead in absentia by this point; but Arie hadn't given much thought to look into the woman's life all that much in a few years. Ice cream and coffee? Two very opposite things and yet, she had to admit, the smell was nice at least. That didn't stop her from ordering a large coffee, black, two sugars.

Minding her business would be easier if people didn't randomly speak into existence a conversation, even if it wasn't really for her. "Depends, pal. How many cups have you had so far?" Arie wondered, doing some calculation of just how much caffiene would kill a man who looked as sleep deprived as he said. "I'm surprised quite frankly. Don't most brains shut off the need to sleep for awhile at some point? That's not to mention the fact that you'll start slipping into micro naps eventually." Which could suck, if he's driving.

LOCATION: THE CREAMERY ICE CREAM & COFFEE BAR @anchoragestarters ( no cap )

Getting arrested on suspicion of... something, was rather rare for Matevos, even if he led a life of crime on the side. He more often got off with a warning or he managed to avoid getting caught all together. This time was different, but he didn’t try to think about it too much. Because he did wonder what had happened to Fallon and Rei. He knew they weren’t responsible, that was such an out-of-this-world idea that even the fact that they had been accused was laughable. Still. 

Part of him felt like he hadn’t given his ruse his all, worried that he could’ve done more to make sure they were let go just like him.

He ordered another coffee and downed it like a man possessed, leaning his full body on the table and staring at the empty coffee cup. “At what time do you think caffeine stops working? I’ve been awake for 72 hours and I’m not sure this is doing what I want it anymore.”

She didn't pay much attention to the deaths around town; not in the same way that most would. Perks of not allowing anyone to truly get close to her, she'd suppose. Arie, or Hashtag rather, didn't have time to truly make friends with anyone. That only meant not only caring about people she'd never see again AND letting someone know the fucked up lifestyle she lived. The only evidence that she knew there might be some sort of wrong in her life was seeing just how damn boring the people of Anchorage were. Stepping into the flower shop wasn't a social call which in again might be a clue of her mindset. She wasn't looking for flowers to show mourning and grief, but rather looking for a type of flower she had happened upon in a flash of a dream and it left her brain with a certain itch or hankering --- but not to eat, no.

Her eyes scanned the selection before looking to the voice who spoke, giving a small sort of smile. Maybe a little shy? But Arie wasn't shy. No, Aretha Hatzi wasn't shy. She commanded attention and rubbed everyone wrong, if her missing person's case was any factor of her disappearance.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she replied with a haphazard shrug, "I'm not looking for those but rather, well, what are the chances you've got hyacinths? I'm not from around here, so I don't know if it makes any difference." Considering the flowers she was thinking of grew in much warmer climates; and in particular, possibly Greece. She hadn't done research before coming, not sure why, but having the sense that the flowers just might be HER favorite, if it hadn't been Aretha Hatzi's. @hercule-boisseau

Status: open @anchoragestarters

Where: the Flower Basket

Hercule hears the telltale sound of the bell at the door ringing, indicating that someone has entered the store. With the recent death, the flower shop had experienced more business than usual. Everyone in the town, it seemed, wanted to express their condolences for the death of Willow Amelia. The former dancer didn't mind the business, per se, but they did find it interesting that people seemed to band together when it came to death, even if they didn't know the person.

He hadn't been connected to the girl so he didn't feel the need to mourn, but his heart did go out to the family and friends of hers. They understood why people wanted to express sympathy and in a way, he found it endearing that people care enough to. He approaches the cashier station, taking in the array of flowers leftover from the past couple day's orders.

"I'm sorry to say that we're all out of lilies and orchids, we've had a large influx of orders recently. Haven't been able to keep them in stock, really. But, I can arrange a bouquet for you with any of the other flowers we have as of current." The two blossoms they listed were common when it came to grieving, lilies offering hope and orchids saying "I will always love you". Even though he hadn't worked at a flower shop for long, he had recently become keenly aware of the types of blooms used for funerals and mourning.

❀ *◦ keke palmer. female. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that aretha hatzi( hashtag )? i think that the twenty-seven year old from meteora, greece works as a hacker for the order of the dead idol, but outside of that people describe them as late nights spent staring at the computer, hanging out in shady diners, no care for which version of themselves is seen next. i hear they are secretive & distant, but they are also known to be warm & lyrical. consider giving them a visit at their home in the seal harbor apartments and get to know why they’re called the black sheep.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

FULL NAME: Arethra Mae Hatzi ALIAS | NICKNAMES: Hashtag (to those who know or come across her work), Arie, Aretha Daniels. BIRTHDAY | AGE: COMING SOON, 27. BIRTH LOCATION | CITIZENSHIP: Unknown, unknown. | Greek citizenship, in a way. CURRENT LOCATION: Anchorage, Alaska. SEXUALITY: Bisexual. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Greek, Spanish, German, Chinese, Turkish and some other various languages. OCCUPATION | DEGREES: Hacker for the Dead Idol. | Broadcast Engineer for 107.5 BLACK DRAGON PEARL RADIO. | None. IQ | ETC: While not technically tested for IQ as a miroir, Hashtag is quick to learn technological things and thinks of her brain as a super computer. It's the reason she was able to become a hacker compared to any other skill sets -- and she believes the real Aretha must've been highly intelligent. PERSONALITY: She can be well spoken and almost lyrical -- but that's because in a way, she's speaking in code. While she might live in the world's shittiest apartment complex, she is warm despite how secretive she can be behind closed doors. If you ever need a meal, she'll cook you something, or invite you to her favorite dinky diner for a meal on her. Despite that, for every inch she gives someone, there's a few feet between the truth and reality. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats. All the cats. In fact, for the first time in Hashtag's existence, she finally has a cat.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Imagine opening your eyes, empty inside of emotion and memory. Now imagine being told you're someone, but you're really not. You're a mirrored image of someone who went missing -- you are them, on the surface. A clone of a life that would never be yours, or you. You're tested to find your skillset, settling on computers. In fact, it comes all too naturally to you when your fingers type. Your eyes can see the faults in codes most cannot and somewhere along the way, you create a super worm virus capable of bringing down governments IF SOMEONE REALLY WANTED YOU TO. So you keep that tucked away for a rainy day, going where you're told like the perfect technological solider they want you to be.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Flash forward to now, stepping out of a car that dropped you outside of the shittiest set of apartments you've ever seen. There was an order to stay here, waiting in the shadows until your skillset comes in handy once more. Get a job, make friends, blend in with the masses. Yet you start to think you're crazy when you get flashes, however brief they are, of a life you know isn't yours; not aware that the life you've never lived is just around the corner. A meeting of chance, or a stroke of luck, but you've never been lucky. No, if anything you're screwed.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⌿ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

Arissa Hatzi -- TO BE PLOTTED. It's gonna be angsty, don't worry. Grab a thing of popcorn and gather around for the shitshow.

Those involved with the radio station -- whether they work together or deal with each other in passing, these people probably look to her for help as a broadcast engineer, or there's a caller who happened upon her on a smoke break and asked her a question or two while they were sneaking around.

Someone she butts heads with often -- Most people don't ask too many questions. They certainly don't put much thought into certain actions, but from day one, these two have fought each other on everything. Maybe they've actually thrown hands? Whatever it is, it's like fire and gasoline.

Someone she helps with computers -- Did you use your school computer to look up spicy subjects, and now have a nasty virus on it? Did you find a code that's suspicious? Do you not know what technology is? Whatever the case is, this person always hits her up for computer help and she's always down to answer the call.

Someone she talks conspiracies with -- How these two met, no one really knows, but whenever they're together, they're always hush hush whispering in the corner or in a booth. In a way, this is as truthful as she'll allow herself to be with someone even if it's battling the idea of a giant moth man fighting a yeti.

Someone who is aware, or sort of aware, they both are miroirs -- Maybe they trained together or maybe they met along the way on some mission or attack. Maybe they aren't aware and Hashtag has to break the news. Whatever the case, I need semi-best friends trauma bonding.