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Emit: Anastasia's an amateur photographer, but she's hoping to drop that "amateur" title sometime soon, so..why not go out on a lovely Saturday afternoon and post on social media to meet her in the park if you want to model? Given her expansive following, she's plannning on at least one person showing up. Maybe. Hopefully. `join inkedd to be the model you've always wanted to be. Posted by Ashley.
Host: inkedd (Anastasia)
Participants: inkedd, Missy Kissinger, Alanala, Quenton
ft. more weed, thanks quent
Host: inkedd (Anastasia)
Participants: inkedd, Missy Kissinger, Alanala, Quenton
Logs
inkedd was sitting cross-legged in the grass, wrestling with the old camera in her lap and the little container of film that had some dull grey negatives already rolled out of it. Ana was trying to get her camera to load the fucking film, but every time she thought she had the canister placed correctly, she closed the back, tried to wind the film up, and it just..refused. What the fuck. Eyebrows furrowed from a mixture of concentration and frustration, Ana just let out an annoyed sigh, ripping open the back of the camera again with a dramatic flair -- the same sort of motion as an angry teenager slamming their bedroom door -- and then yanked out the film container, pushed some of the negatives back inside of it, and then pulled the negatives forward the smallest amount as she set the container back into its spot in the back of her camera -- oh, fuck, were those footsteps? Shit, shit, she wasn't ready at all--
Missy Kissinger had been linked the event on social media and raised a brow. Okay....well....couldn't hurt to check out. She hadn't modeled in a long time, but maybe the girl could use some help, or maybe some less experienced girls could use some pointers? Who knows. The fae made her way around the park, finding the area the girl had set up shop. She gave a breath and watched the girl fumble with the film, trying to send her some 'luck' but it didn't seem that Missy's meager positive intentions was any match for whatever the blue haired girl had going on. "Uhh.... you alright?"
Alanala hadn't been linked the post on social media, honestly she hardly even knew how to use that thing, at most she took pics of her paintings and uploaded those, other wise she steer cleared of it all... She was only out and about to walk her little dog Winston, who was happily walking along on his leash beside the young woman who ended up in the park, per usual... She noticed the woman having some trouble, and Missy, she recognized her! Walking over she would smile politely. "Hey, how are you doing?" She would ask her softly before looking to the other woman, nodding her head gently. "Hi there, you doing okay?" Winston would snuff his way up to Anna, gently sniffing at her hand before he sat down, placed his paw gently on her knee and huffed at her. The woman kind of reminded her of Roslien, oh how she missed her... She hadn't seen her since she had arrived in Caribou Coast, but that was life, wasn't it?
inkedd's head popped up as she looked up at this new bubblegum pink stranger, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" Her tone was..strangely cheery, considering the frustrated look that warped her face only a few seconds before this lady's arrival. Ana looked back down to the camera and resumed trying to load the film. "Just--I don't know shit about cameras," She chuckled, "I wish I just bit the bullet and got a fuckin' digital one." With that, she closed the back hatch one last time, turned the camera on and..thank God, she was greeted by the sound of the camera's gears and innards swallowing up the film, the little screen near the shutter button counting up as the camera registered the number of film negatives she was loading. The mechanical noise skidded to a stop, the number froze on 35, and with a click, it was done. "Shit, finally--" She laughed, "that took ages." It actually only took around five minutes, but five minutes was a century to Ana-- A DOG. Ana's face absolutely lit up, brown eyes widening and her mouth curling up into a grin as the dog walked closer. Dog! Yes! She loved dogs! She hardly even registered the other lady's greeting as this dog sniffed her, sat down, and then put its paw on her leg. "Aww," Ana cooed; she looked like a kid on Christmas morning, unwrapping presents and finding exactly what she asked for. "Can I pet your dog?" She paused as the realization that she didn't greet this other lady seeped into her brain. "Oh! Hi, sorry," She chuckled, a bit awkwardly.
Missy Kissinger moved some of her pink hair behind her gauged ear, spotting Nala with a smile. "Hey there!" A cigarette was out of her pack and between her fingers, unlit, so she stuck it behind her ear for now. "Ooooh poopy dogs." She said in a cute way, looking at Winston. She giggled gently and shoved her hands in her cutoff jean shorts. She had a pair of kneehigh sports style socks with pink stripes. High top sneakers, A loose muscle shirt. Sports bra. Pink denim jacket. Weird mix of 'like-oh-mah-god' and punk. Attention turned back to the photographer. "I may have some film in my jeep if thats the problem....what milimeter is that?" When the girl admitted she didn't know shit about cameras she laughed. "Oh good, me either, I was afraid you'd start asking me questions and i'd be like 'I dunno if its even the kind of film ya need'" She made fun of her own voice, making herself sound more silly with that last part. She stepped back away from them a little, to light a vanilla cigarette and inhale off it deeply. She valued smoko time, it would seem.
Alanala chuckled out when Ana asked if she could pet Winston. "Yeah, he's actually asking you to pet him, it's kind of... His way of asking to be pet? I think his old owner taught him this way cause she was partially deaf and partially blind..." She would explain softly, Winston, the little white maltese wagged his tail happily as he gazed at Ana, waiting for her to pet him. "His name is Winston, he's ten years old..." Gazing down to the small dog she would smile once more as Ana returned the earlier greeting. "I'm Alanala, but you can just call me Ally." Introducing herself politely as she'd settle onto the ground. Ally, since it was a pretty warm spring day was just wearing an unbuttoned blue cardigan, over a white button down and knee length blue skirt, with her white stockings and black slip on loafers. If one could describe Ally's style, is that it's plain. Very plain. She was a plain jane. "How have you been?" She would ask Missy curiously. "Been a while since I last saw you."
inkedd. "Thirty-five," Ana replied, significantly more confident than she was when she was trying to load the film. She knew it was 35mm just because she remembered reading somewhere that it was the best kind of film camera to buy, or..something like that. She had no fuckin' clue, honestly, but she remembered searching that on Amazon and -- god forbid -- Ebay, so she was positive with her answer. "He's so cute!" She chirped, reaching over to pet Winston; Ana was so caught up in giving the good boy scratches that she forgot why she went to the park in the first place, but once she remembered the camera in her lap, she put the strap around her neck and uncrossed her legs to stand up. As the two talked, she tried to hide her grimace at the smell of cigarettes--the vanilla weaved into the smoke was a lot more pleasant than the usual smell of them, but she still let out a small, restrained cough into her arm as she turned away. No matter how sweet they smelled, they were still fucking carinogens. When she thought the two were done catching up, she fidgeted with her camera strap and looked over at them. "Uh, you guys are both here for the photos, right?"
Missy Kissinger chuckled at Winston's behavior. "10? He looks good for 10." She said. "Then again small dogs live forever I guess." She was still standing downwind the others so her smoke didn't offend. Missy like Ally's style. It reminded her of Skating Polly but more clean cut. Or those Boho punk queens who wore platform creepers and simple collared dresses. "Yeah. It's been some time. I've just been trying to keep myself busy. What about you? Still painting?" She seemed relieved when the girl got the camera working. "I'm glad you fixed it." When she mentioned 35 she oohed. "I thiiink thats what I have. I dont know though." She was staying downwind! But she was a smoker. She was almost done so she put it out in the boot of her heel before finding one of those outdoor ashtray pillars and putting it in. She moved back towards the two but paused as her phone rang. "God.....dammit Bobby. Sorry. Business." Hopefully she'd be back before the shoot was over.
Alanala nodded her head gently to Missy. "Off and on... Mostly just working at the art supply store, trying to get my life back in order... Azazel dumped me like... A few weeks ago, just told me to get out..." She sighed out gently, hand moving up to adjust the oddly out of place scarf around her neck, it was a warm day, why would she need a scarf? When Ana asked if they were there for photos, Ally looked confused. "Photos? No... I'm just uh... Taking Winston for a walk." She explained shyly with a smile. "What... What kind of photos? Maybe Winston could have some taken of him, he's a very photogenic dog." Getting up she would brush the grass and dirt off of her skirt gently, smiling over to Ana. Ally never tried to draw much attention to herself... That was how she had been raised.
inkedd watched this bubble-gum pink stranger walk away with a slight frown, but when she turned back to this other lady and her dog, any hint of worried creases completely disappeared. She smiled and continued to fidget with the camera strap, looking down at it as if to remind herself that, yes, her camera was still there. "Oh, uh.." Ana looked back up and gave her a small shrug. "Nothin' specific, really, I'm just trying to get better at it. I just posted on Insta and shit that people can come here and I'll take their photos for free if they wanted me to." Ana didn't even need to pause to consider the offer about photgraphing her dog, she jut smiled, wide and radiant. "I'd love to!" She chirped.
Alanala's brows rose up gently as she listened to Ana explain, feeling her face flush slightly she would chuckle out, shaking her head. "Oh nnh-no... I'm not good at having my picture taken but... But Winston here! He'd be the best model ever, guarantee!" She would reach down to unclip the leash from his collar, carefully adjusting the little denim jacket he had on before stepping back. She certainly was the kind to dress up her pets, but it worked for such a small and cute dog like Winston, who gazed happily up towards Ana. Taking out her phone she would swipe over to her texts, sending one off to Quent, since he had given her his number the last time they had ran into one another. "Where are you?" She properly texted him, curious if he was anywhere nearby to the park.
Quenton didn't check his phone -- the concept was still too new. There wasn't really any reason to; it was just some bullshit prepaid burner anyway. The fact that Lana' had texted the demon and the equivalent fact that Quent' walked by the exact spot he had just been 'summoned' to was pretty fucking fascinating. It didn't really take Quent' long to make himself known -- not intentionally, or otherwise. A casual stroll, a lazy roll of shoulders -- blunt dangling from lips. . . because, there were never any fuckin' cops patrolling this town. Not that Quent' had seen anyway. Plus, weed was legal for recreation here, wasn't it? Another shrug -- a too-long, lung-heavy drawal. "What up, soft thighs?" Spoke to Lana' as Quent' rolled between Ana and whatever subject she may have been shooting. How was he supposed to know this was some fashionista shit? . . . Model shit? Still, despite the fact that he'd been alerted to what this event was, Quent' just kind of . . . stopped in front of where Ana stood with her camera at the ready. Quent' could be candid, alright? "Oh, Soft Thighs got some cute friends!" Commending Lana' because, y'know, she was digging his mans and he couldn't really mess that vibe up. . . intentionally. The demon finally shifted, peering downward at Ana's camera. "Th' fuck is with that shit, Blue?" It came off as if he was questioning her intention to capture him on film -- but, in reality, Quent' had never actually seen a fuckin' legit DLSR. Cough.
inkedd. Soft thighs? Ana..quickly decided that she didn't to know the meaning behind that nickname, but this guy just casually strolling up with a blunt dangling lazily from his lips was one fat fucking mood. She just raised her eyebrows at him; really, she was kinda digging how he just sorta walked on over here like he owned the place-- respect. Confidence like that was fuckin' commendable. ...Cute, huh? Ana grinned in a way that was almost sheepish; she had always been a pretty confident, outgoing person (nowhere near as confident as Blunt over here seemed, though), but she still got all flustered when she was being complimented-- the light, almost unnoticeable pink waves that suddenly rolled across her cheeks was proof of this. God, fuck this burning behind her face; she looked down and suddenly found her camera real fuckin' interesting, fidgeting with it and messing with the..zoom-thing. She had no fucking idea what she was doing with it, and it showed. Ana's eyebrows shot up again at the question, and she held it up for Blunt like she was trying to sell it to him, gesturing towards it with her free hand. "Thirty-five millimeter film camera, uh...Canon...Rebel somethin'..." Her voice faded away along with any shred of confidence that she maybe knew how to fuckin' use this thing.
Alanala smiled when she saw Quent coming their way, about to greet him when he called her... Soft Thighs. Her brows shot right up as she stared hard at him, feeling her face burning a hot red. Why? Why did he use that nickname? She would still greet her. "Hello Quent, how are you doing?" She would ask him politely, brows furrowing together as eyes went to the blunt hanging from his lips. Head tilted curiously she would... Ask him. "Um... Can I uh... Can I try that?" She had seen a few tweets and posts on insta about that day, and... It was legal in that state. Why not give it a try? She had never smoked before it appeared. Looking to Winston he would snuff and move around Quenton, back into Ana's view, so she could get a picture of him properly now, he was a prideful little pup.
Quenton hadn't really noticed Lana's pooch; nor had he realized that Ana's actual purpose was to absorb its soul with that -- thing. Quent's dangerously acid eyes were shielded briefly by the drop of 'lashes and 'lids. A steady squint was donned toward Ana. What kind of fuckin' succubus? "Ya' cheeks kinda' red? You gettin' a sunburn, Blue?" Spoken with the greatest level of scrutiny, Quent's masculine baritones laced with a bit of skeptical gravel. He didn't really trust Ana's tech. It wasn't his fault; but he'd be damned if he got his picture taken. Although Quent', being a wiley demon sort, didn't have a soul -- didn't stop him from thinking he did and truly believing that camera would steal it. Outwardly, the demon hadn't immediately voiced this concern, but he was certainly. . . wary. "Thirty-five . . . what?" Easily rendered further towards the denial of this product's safety. Thankfully, for the sake of the moment, Soft Thighs spoke up. "You sure?" Plucking tightly-wound, homegrown from between soft lips. He dangled it in front of her, broad smile finally causing distance from that incredulous look he'd previously assumed. If Lana' would reach for the blunt, Quent' would quickly pluck it away -- suddenly marked with concern. "You sure you can handle this shit, Soft Thighs? You ain't really striking me as the type to smoke." But, Quent' was a bad influence, so he'd relinquish it to her. "You can have some, too, Blue --," though Quent' was hesitant; Soft Thighs could pass the weed in her direction. Quent' wasn't fixin' to get anywhere near that fucking camera.
inkedd genuinely couldn't wrap her mind around why Blunt over here seemed so..suspicious? His emerald gaze was burning holes into her skin like acid--the way he seemed to be poking and prodding her to find some sort of fucking ulterior motive. It was making her fucking skin crawl -- or maybe she was just being overemotional. "Thirty-five..somethin'," She mumbled, almost absentmindedly, as she held the camera up to her eye before a frown creased her face. Why was it all black?--oh, fucking lens cap. Christ, Ana. She held the camera in one hand, plucked the lens cap off with the other -- "I don't know what thirty-five millimeter means, honestly," She admitted, "it's just some sorta camera type, I guess." This is why she was't fuckin' charging people to model. To be honest, if he hadn't offered, she was still gonna ask for a hit. "Yeah, uh, if that's okay," She mumbled, shoving the cap into the pocket of her baggy, ripped blue jeans. If, for whatever reason, Blunt changed his mind, Ana wasn't gonna complain, she'd just accept the loss. She wasn't gonna fuckin' steal it, or anything. (A friend recently actually told her about how he stole someone's blunt hit at a fucking cemetery and she got secondhand embarassment just from hearing about it, holy fuck.)
Alanala began to reach for the blunt when Quent pulled it away, brows raising as he asked if she could handle it. "Um... Yeah, I'm sure I can!" Nodding her head gently she would reach for the blunt once more when he'd let her take it from him. Gazing at it quietly, she would place it to her lips before taking a long inhale, brows furrowing together. Fuck that burned her throat! She would try to hold it, but she couldn't handle it anymore before handing it back to Quent as she went to cough her lungs out. "Holy shit..." She would gasp out between coughs, patting her chest, her hand went to her scarf to unwrap it, so she could rub at her own burning throat, revealing the purple and green bruises all over her neck. "That burns, oh maker..." She would rub at her watering eyes. Winston would give Ally a concerned look, walking back over to snuff at his mothers hand.
Quenton's attentions were stricken by Ana's. . . inability to use that weapon. Thankfully, she wasn't exactly adept at stealing souls with her camera -- so Quent's tensions eased substantially. Didn't seem like his world was gonna' end tonight. "Eh, at least you're honest," those stark emeralds finding Ana's face and heavily observing. "That's a good quality to have, Blue." Matter-of-fact; suddenly serious. Still, the demon still thought the woman was a fuckin' succubus. What other type of beast would casually stroll around with a DSLR on-hand? A psychopath? Sadly, for Quent's time on Earth -- that was the only one that he'd seen. "Yea', I'm pretty fuckin' wary now. My man Damian stole that shit right outta' my dude's hand not too long ago." Giving a quick glance to Lana', who seemed to handle the marijuana -- okay. There was a moment that Quent' devoted to Blue, giving her a rather unabashed once-over. It was a curious look, stationed to observation. Was she hiding horns? About this time, the demon caught sight of Lana's neck, 'brows furrowing in quick frustration. "Th' fuck happened to you?" Anyone who knew Quent' knew he wasn't afraid to offend -- or to steer the conversation in the worst possible direction. "Look like someone tried to fuckin' kill you!" Quent' would move to stand beside Lana', snagging her wrist and pulling her closer if he was allowed. Either way, he'd pluck his weed back -- releasing Lana' with a quick, gentle push. He walked to Blue -- extending the weed to her, much to his own chagrin. What was worse: a succubus, or a fuckin' ghost? Was Lana' even alive? Oh, fuck. Here we go.
(this ended abruptly because i ended up leaving due to exhaustion and just..not feeling up for writing Ana anymore at All.)
inkedd was sitting cross-legged in the grass, wrestling with the old camera in her lap and the little container of film that had some dull grey negatives already rolled out of it. Ana was trying to get her camera to load the fucking film, but every time she thought she had the canister placed correctly, she closed the back, tried to wind the film up, and it just..refused. What the fuck. Eyebrows furrowed from a mixture of concentration and frustration, Ana just let out an annoyed sigh, ripping open the back of the camera again with a dramatic flair -- the same sort of motion as an angry teenager slamming their bedroom door -- and then yanked out the film container, pushed some of the negatives back inside of it, and then pulled the negatives forward the smallest amount as she set the container back into its spot in the back of her camera -- oh, fuck, were those footsteps? Shit, shit, she wasn't ready at all--
Missy Kissinger had been linked the event on social media and raised a brow. Okay....well....couldn't hurt to check out. She hadn't modeled in a long time, but maybe the girl could use some help, or maybe some less experienced girls could use some pointers? Who knows. The fae made her way around the park, finding the area the girl had set up shop. She gave a breath and watched the girl fumble with the film, trying to send her some 'luck' but it didn't seem that Missy's meager positive intentions was any match for whatever the blue haired girl had going on. "Uhh.... you alright?"
Alanala hadn't been linked the post on social media, honestly she hardly even knew how to use that thing, at most she took pics of her paintings and uploaded those, other wise she steer cleared of it all... She was only out and about to walk her little dog Winston, who was happily walking along on his leash beside the young woman who ended up in the park, per usual... She noticed the woman having some trouble, and Missy, she recognized her! Walking over she would smile politely. "Hey, how are you doing?" She would ask her softly before looking to the other woman, nodding her head gently. "Hi there, you doing okay?" Winston would snuff his way up to Anna, gently sniffing at her hand before he sat down, placed his paw gently on her knee and huffed at her. The woman kind of reminded her of Roslien, oh how she missed her... She hadn't seen her since she had arrived in Caribou Coast, but that was life, wasn't it?
inkedd's head popped up as she looked up at this new bubblegum pink stranger, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine!" Her tone was..strangely cheery, considering the frustrated look that warped her face only a few seconds before this lady's arrival. Ana looked back down to the camera and resumed trying to load the film. "Just--I don't know shit about cameras," She chuckled, "I wish I just bit the bullet and got a fuckin' digital one." With that, she closed the back hatch one last time, turned the camera on and..thank God, she was greeted by the sound of the camera's gears and innards swallowing up the film, the little screen near the shutter button counting up as the camera registered the number of film negatives she was loading. The mechanical noise skidded to a stop, the number froze on 35, and with a click, it was done. "Shit, finally--" She laughed, "that took ages." It actually only took around five minutes, but five minutes was a century to Ana-- A DOG. Ana's face absolutely lit up, brown eyes widening and her mouth curling up into a grin as the dog walked closer. Dog! Yes! She loved dogs! She hardly even registered the other lady's greeting as this dog sniffed her, sat down, and then put its paw on her leg. "Aww," Ana cooed; she looked like a kid on Christmas morning, unwrapping presents and finding exactly what she asked for. "Can I pet your dog?" She paused as the realization that she didn't greet this other lady seeped into her brain. "Oh! Hi, sorry," She chuckled, a bit awkwardly.
Missy Kissinger moved some of her pink hair behind her gauged ear, spotting Nala with a smile. "Hey there!" A cigarette was out of her pack and between her fingers, unlit, so she stuck it behind her ear for now. "Ooooh poopy dogs." She said in a cute way, looking at Winston. She giggled gently and shoved her hands in her cutoff jean shorts. She had a pair of kneehigh sports style socks with pink stripes. High top sneakers, A loose muscle shirt. Sports bra. Pink denim jacket. Weird mix of 'like-oh-mah-god' and punk. Attention turned back to the photographer. "I may have some film in my jeep if thats the problem....what milimeter is that?" When the girl admitted she didn't know shit about cameras she laughed. "Oh good, me either, I was afraid you'd start asking me questions and i'd be like 'I dunno if its even the kind of film ya need'" She made fun of her own voice, making herself sound more silly with that last part. She stepped back away from them a little, to light a vanilla cigarette and inhale off it deeply. She valued smoko time, it would seem.
Alanala chuckled out when Ana asked if she could pet Winston. "Yeah, he's actually asking you to pet him, it's kind of... His way of asking to be pet? I think his old owner taught him this way cause she was partially deaf and partially blind..." She would explain softly, Winston, the little white maltese wagged his tail happily as he gazed at Ana, waiting for her to pet him. "His name is Winston, he's ten years old..." Gazing down to the small dog she would smile once more as Ana returned the earlier greeting. "I'm Alanala, but you can just call me Ally." Introducing herself politely as she'd settle onto the ground. Ally, since it was a pretty warm spring day was just wearing an unbuttoned blue cardigan, over a white button down and knee length blue skirt, with her white stockings and black slip on loafers. If one could describe Ally's style, is that it's plain. Very plain. She was a plain jane. "How have you been?" She would ask Missy curiously. "Been a while since I last saw you."
inkedd. "Thirty-five," Ana replied, significantly more confident than she was when she was trying to load the film. She knew it was 35mm just because she remembered reading somewhere that it was the best kind of film camera to buy, or..something like that. She had no fuckin' clue, honestly, but she remembered searching that on Amazon and -- god forbid -- Ebay, so she was positive with her answer. "He's so cute!" She chirped, reaching over to pet Winston; Ana was so caught up in giving the good boy scratches that she forgot why she went to the park in the first place, but once she remembered the camera in her lap, she put the strap around her neck and uncrossed her legs to stand up. As the two talked, she tried to hide her grimace at the smell of cigarettes--the vanilla weaved into the smoke was a lot more pleasant than the usual smell of them, but she still let out a small, restrained cough into her arm as she turned away. No matter how sweet they smelled, they were still fucking carinogens. When she thought the two were done catching up, she fidgeted with her camera strap and looked over at them. "Uh, you guys are both here for the photos, right?"
Missy Kissinger chuckled at Winston's behavior. "10? He looks good for 10." She said. "Then again small dogs live forever I guess." She was still standing downwind the others so her smoke didn't offend. Missy like Ally's style. It reminded her of Skating Polly but more clean cut. Or those Boho punk queens who wore platform creepers and simple collared dresses. "Yeah. It's been some time. I've just been trying to keep myself busy. What about you? Still painting?" She seemed relieved when the girl got the camera working. "I'm glad you fixed it." When she mentioned 35 she oohed. "I thiiink thats what I have. I dont know though." She was staying downwind! But she was a smoker. She was almost done so she put it out in the boot of her heel before finding one of those outdoor ashtray pillars and putting it in. She moved back towards the two but paused as her phone rang. "God.....dammit Bobby. Sorry. Business." Hopefully she'd be back before the shoot was over.
Alanala nodded her head gently to Missy. "Off and on... Mostly just working at the art supply store, trying to get my life back in order... Azazel dumped me like... A few weeks ago, just told me to get out..." She sighed out gently, hand moving up to adjust the oddly out of place scarf around her neck, it was a warm day, why would she need a scarf? When Ana asked if they were there for photos, Ally looked confused. "Photos? No... I'm just uh... Taking Winston for a walk." She explained shyly with a smile. "What... What kind of photos? Maybe Winston could have some taken of him, he's a very photogenic dog." Getting up she would brush the grass and dirt off of her skirt gently, smiling over to Ana. Ally never tried to draw much attention to herself... That was how she had been raised.
inkedd watched this bubble-gum pink stranger walk away with a slight frown, but when she turned back to this other lady and her dog, any hint of worried creases completely disappeared. She smiled and continued to fidget with the camera strap, looking down at it as if to remind herself that, yes, her camera was still there. "Oh, uh.." Ana looked back up and gave her a small shrug. "Nothin' specific, really, I'm just trying to get better at it. I just posted on Insta and shit that people can come here and I'll take their photos for free if they wanted me to." Ana didn't even need to pause to consider the offer about photgraphing her dog, she jut smiled, wide and radiant. "I'd love to!" She chirped.
Alanala's brows rose up gently as she listened to Ana explain, feeling her face flush slightly she would chuckle out, shaking her head. "Oh nnh-no... I'm not good at having my picture taken but... But Winston here! He'd be the best model ever, guarantee!" She would reach down to unclip the leash from his collar, carefully adjusting the little denim jacket he had on before stepping back. She certainly was the kind to dress up her pets, but it worked for such a small and cute dog like Winston, who gazed happily up towards Ana. Taking out her phone she would swipe over to her texts, sending one off to Quent, since he had given her his number the last time they had ran into one another. "Where are you?" She properly texted him, curious if he was anywhere nearby to the park.
Quenton didn't check his phone -- the concept was still too new. There wasn't really any reason to; it was just some bullshit prepaid burner anyway. The fact that Lana' had texted the demon and the equivalent fact that Quent' walked by the exact spot he had just been 'summoned' to was pretty fucking fascinating. It didn't really take Quent' long to make himself known -- not intentionally, or otherwise. A casual stroll, a lazy roll of shoulders -- blunt dangling from lips. . . because, there were never any fuckin' cops patrolling this town. Not that Quent' had seen anyway. Plus, weed was legal for recreation here, wasn't it? Another shrug -- a too-long, lung-heavy drawal. "What up, soft thighs?" Spoke to Lana' as Quent' rolled between Ana and whatever subject she may have been shooting. How was he supposed to know this was some fashionista shit? . . . Model shit? Still, despite the fact that he'd been alerted to what this event was, Quent' just kind of . . . stopped in front of where Ana stood with her camera at the ready. Quent' could be candid, alright? "Oh, Soft Thighs got some cute friends!" Commending Lana' because, y'know, she was digging his mans and he couldn't really mess that vibe up. . . intentionally. The demon finally shifted, peering downward at Ana's camera. "Th' fuck is with that shit, Blue?" It came off as if he was questioning her intention to capture him on film -- but, in reality, Quent' had never actually seen a fuckin' legit DLSR. Cough.
inkedd. Soft thighs? Ana..quickly decided that she didn't to know the meaning behind that nickname, but this guy just casually strolling up with a blunt dangling lazily from his lips was one fat fucking mood. She just raised her eyebrows at him; really, she was kinda digging how he just sorta walked on over here like he owned the place-- respect. Confidence like that was fuckin' commendable. ...Cute, huh? Ana grinned in a way that was almost sheepish; she had always been a pretty confident, outgoing person (nowhere near as confident as Blunt over here seemed, though), but she still got all flustered when she was being complimented-- the light, almost unnoticeable pink waves that suddenly rolled across her cheeks was proof of this. God, fuck this burning behind her face; she looked down and suddenly found her camera real fuckin' interesting, fidgeting with it and messing with the..zoom-thing. She had no fucking idea what she was doing with it, and it showed. Ana's eyebrows shot up again at the question, and she held it up for Blunt like she was trying to sell it to him, gesturing towards it with her free hand. "Thirty-five millimeter film camera, uh...Canon...Rebel somethin'..." Her voice faded away along with any shred of confidence that she maybe knew how to fuckin' use this thing.
Alanala smiled when she saw Quent coming their way, about to greet him when he called her... Soft Thighs. Her brows shot right up as she stared hard at him, feeling her face burning a hot red. Why? Why did he use that nickname? She would still greet her. "Hello Quent, how are you doing?" She would ask him politely, brows furrowing together as eyes went to the blunt hanging from his lips. Head tilted curiously she would... Ask him. "Um... Can I uh... Can I try that?" She had seen a few tweets and posts on insta about that day, and... It was legal in that state. Why not give it a try? She had never smoked before it appeared. Looking to Winston he would snuff and move around Quenton, back into Ana's view, so she could get a picture of him properly now, he was a prideful little pup.
Quenton hadn't really noticed Lana's pooch; nor had he realized that Ana's actual purpose was to absorb its soul with that -- thing. Quent's dangerously acid eyes were shielded briefly by the drop of 'lashes and 'lids. A steady squint was donned toward Ana. What kind of fuckin' succubus? "Ya' cheeks kinda' red? You gettin' a sunburn, Blue?" Spoken with the greatest level of scrutiny, Quent's masculine baritones laced with a bit of skeptical gravel. He didn't really trust Ana's tech. It wasn't his fault; but he'd be damned if he got his picture taken. Although Quent', being a wiley demon sort, didn't have a soul -- didn't stop him from thinking he did and truly believing that camera would steal it. Outwardly, the demon hadn't immediately voiced this concern, but he was certainly. . . wary. "Thirty-five . . . what?" Easily rendered further towards the denial of this product's safety. Thankfully, for the sake of the moment, Soft Thighs spoke up. "You sure?" Plucking tightly-wound, homegrown from between soft lips. He dangled it in front of her, broad smile finally causing distance from that incredulous look he'd previously assumed. If Lana' would reach for the blunt, Quent' would quickly pluck it away -- suddenly marked with concern. "You sure you can handle this shit, Soft Thighs? You ain't really striking me as the type to smoke." But, Quent' was a bad influence, so he'd relinquish it to her. "You can have some, too, Blue --," though Quent' was hesitant; Soft Thighs could pass the weed in her direction. Quent' wasn't fixin' to get anywhere near that fucking camera.
inkedd genuinely couldn't wrap her mind around why Blunt over here seemed so..suspicious? His emerald gaze was burning holes into her skin like acid--the way he seemed to be poking and prodding her to find some sort of fucking ulterior motive. It was making her fucking skin crawl -- or maybe she was just being overemotional. "Thirty-five..somethin'," She mumbled, almost absentmindedly, as she held the camera up to her eye before a frown creased her face. Why was it all black?--oh, fucking lens cap. Christ, Ana. She held the camera in one hand, plucked the lens cap off with the other -- "I don't know what thirty-five millimeter means, honestly," She admitted, "it's just some sorta camera type, I guess." This is why she was't fuckin' charging people to model. To be honest, if he hadn't offered, she was still gonna ask for a hit. "Yeah, uh, if that's okay," She mumbled, shoving the cap into the pocket of her baggy, ripped blue jeans. If, for whatever reason, Blunt changed his mind, Ana wasn't gonna complain, she'd just accept the loss. She wasn't gonna fuckin' steal it, or anything. (A friend recently actually told her about how he stole someone's blunt hit at a fucking cemetery and she got secondhand embarassment just from hearing about it, holy fuck.)
Alanala began to reach for the blunt when Quent pulled it away, brows raising as he asked if she could handle it. "Um... Yeah, I'm sure I can!" Nodding her head gently she would reach for the blunt once more when he'd let her take it from him. Gazing at it quietly, she would place it to her lips before taking a long inhale, brows furrowing together. Fuck that burned her throat! She would try to hold it, but she couldn't handle it anymore before handing it back to Quent as she went to cough her lungs out. "Holy shit..." She would gasp out between coughs, patting her chest, her hand went to her scarf to unwrap it, so she could rub at her own burning throat, revealing the purple and green bruises all over her neck. "That burns, oh maker..." She would rub at her watering eyes. Winston would give Ally a concerned look, walking back over to snuff at his mothers hand.
Quenton's attentions were stricken by Ana's. . . inability to use that weapon. Thankfully, she wasn't exactly adept at stealing souls with her camera -- so Quent's tensions eased substantially. Didn't seem like his world was gonna' end tonight. "Eh, at least you're honest," those stark emeralds finding Ana's face and heavily observing. "That's a good quality to have, Blue." Matter-of-fact; suddenly serious. Still, the demon still thought the woman was a fuckin' succubus. What other type of beast would casually stroll around with a DSLR on-hand? A psychopath? Sadly, for Quent's time on Earth -- that was the only one that he'd seen. "Yea', I'm pretty fuckin' wary now. My man Damian stole that shit right outta' my dude's hand not too long ago." Giving a quick glance to Lana', who seemed to handle the marijuana -- okay. There was a moment that Quent' devoted to Blue, giving her a rather unabashed once-over. It was a curious look, stationed to observation. Was she hiding horns? About this time, the demon caught sight of Lana's neck, 'brows furrowing in quick frustration. "Th' fuck happened to you?" Anyone who knew Quent' knew he wasn't afraid to offend -- or to steer the conversation in the worst possible direction. "Look like someone tried to fuckin' kill you!" Quent' would move to stand beside Lana', snagging her wrist and pulling her closer if he was allowed. Either way, he'd pluck his weed back -- releasing Lana' with a quick, gentle push. He walked to Blue -- extending the weed to her, much to his own chagrin. What was worse: a succubus, or a fuckin' ghost? Was Lana' even alive? Oh, fuck. Here we go.
(this ended abruptly because i ended up leaving due to exhaustion and just..not feeling up for writing Ana anymore at All.)
