Never End • •

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Weekends usually meant that Willow and the guys she lived with would find themselves in the Marquee Club, drinking, dancing and pretty much reminding the world that they were still young and entirely foolish. It was what made the weekdays and the long hours spent at the college bearable for the young tomboy, who would much rather be doing something practical than all the theory work her professors liked to assign each week. Who even cared if she could write an essay on the progression of technology in Ford cars since the early twentieth century?! People wouldn’t pay for her to write them a history of the make of their car when they simple needed a radiator fixed. Still, she gritted her teeth and bared it, knowing that she could let it all go once the weekend rolled around again.

Tonight had been no different. Willow had gone out with the guys, drank at the comedy club where she worked for a bit and then moved to the Marquee once it was open and they were certain that it would have some form of entertainment once they got there. Usually Will found it hilarious to laugh at the girls who hit on her housemates, mimicking their desperate and sultry attempts to talk one into taking them home for a bit of meaningless fun. Sometimes it worked, and then Willow got to tease them relentlessly for at least six days about it all. If guys hit on her then she usually shot them down there and then; she might not have been the pickiest of girls, but she also wasn’t desperate and didn’t need some seedy one night stand with a guy who was looking for a rebound.

Willow was happily enjoying herself with another shot of tequila at the bar when something didn’t feel quite right. Reaching up to her nose, she swore when she realised that the childhood curse of being the kid with nosebleeds had come to remind her that she hadn’t changed as much as she pretended to have. Making a beeline for the toilet, Willow tried to stop the blood flowing from her nose, packing her face with the toilet roll to try and deal with it. Alcohol did not make one a nurse though, and she still ended up with drops on her chest and her hands. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, but she made no move to answer it until the nosebleed was over. More curious about who had text her, Will forgot to wash all the blood from her hands as she squinted to try and stop the words on the screen from spinning around. It was from one of the guys she lived with, letting her know they were heading home. Despite how much she protested against sleeping with any of the guys in the Marquee, they thought she had taken off with someone when they couldn’t find her and by doing so had abandoned the young mechanic.

Outside, Willow glanced around, hoping she might still catch her housemates, but the only people she saw were those who couldn’t hold their liquor and who were throwing up in the gutter. She reached down to her pockets to check her money and key, swearing again when she remembered giving her key to one of the guys in Gotham when he had forgotten his wallet. There also wasn’t enough cash left for a cab either, so she’d have to walk the forty five minutes across the city which she really didn’t want to do. Suddenly, the petite brunette remembered that her co-worker and friend Eric didn’t live so far away - at least, it was much closer than her own house. He had been working when she was in Gotham earlier, so he would probably still be awake, if not only just getting home himself, depending on the clean-up process and who actually stayed behind to do it tonight.

How she remembered the way, or even the building, was one of those great alcohol induced mysteries, but she found it all the same, hoping he wouldn’t be too annoyed by the drunken Californian falling on his doorstep at this hour of the night. By the time Willow did make it back to the house she shared with the three guys, they’d probably be sleeping like the dead anyway and not even hear her knocking. Seeking out the right buzzer for the locked door, Will jammed her finger on it for a good few seconds before slumping back against the wall, reaching up to check her nose as a delayed reassurance.

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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 801
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

For Eric, weekends were his days to bury himself in music, his and others. He would blast the music as he went through his house, cleaning the place. It took a couple hours; he wasn’t a messy person and did the basics every day. And when that was done, he would sit down and just write and play for hours on end. The nights he wasn’t behind the bar at Gotham, he was at open mike nights playing his music. He was lucky though, that he found the perfect apartment to blast the music with no noise complaints. The entire building was full of students from NYU. Most were going for the arts, some like him, held other majors but none of them had ever minded when the music poured. And a few even attended the open mike nights for support.

Tonight wasn’t one of those nights. He had work and had stayed late to help with the cleanup; anything really, to prolong going home to Treble. He loved the big old dog, but he just wanted to veg out on the couch with a sandwich he was planning on picking up from the deli down the street and watch some sort of late night comedy talk show. Despite working in a comedy club, Eric enjoyed those shows when most would probably wish comedy didn’t exist outside of work. When everything was all said and done, Eric waved bye to the rest of the people there, hit the deli and went home to be greeted by the happy sheepdog. Chuckling, Eric set the sandwich on the counter in the kitchen before grabbing Treble’s leash and taking him out to what passed as a front lawn. He couldn’t take him for a walk, but he could take him out front and get him some fresh air. Fifteen minutes, a cleanup and a couple tosses of a tennis ball, they were back up in the apartment, both chowing down on their midnight snacks; Eric sitting cross legged on the couch and Treble at his bowl in the kitchen.

He was throwing away the wrappings when someone buzzed his apartment. His brows drew together in confusion as he fished his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time. It was late and his first thought there was something wrong in the building, but if that were the case, someone would have been banging on his door. Then he thought maybe Chloe had left her keys somewhere again and needed into the secure building. His buzzer wasn’t working to respond or let anyone up, but it was being fixed the next day, so with a sigh, he left the comfort of his apartment for the main floor to see who was calling on him so late. Treble stayed by his side as he took the stairs down the handful of stairs from the fourth floor not wanting to wait forever for the elevator. Even more confused than before, Eric unlocked the door and swung it open, worried something had happened. “Will? What are you doing here?” he asked, looking around the street before turning his attention back to his friend and co-worker, eyes wide taking in the drops on her shirt. “Is that blood?!”

Tag || Will!!
Words || 541
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

She knew it was late and that most people would not be happy with her calling at this hour, even if she had been locked out of her own house and would have to walk across the city alone during the darkest moments of the night. Walking there hadn’t really been something to bother her; she was just too tired and really couldn’t be bothered when she knew that she had a friend a lot closer. Her rebellious years in Mojave had made her less fearful of the big, bad city than she probably should be, even if she had calmed herself down considerably by now. Will still had her disobedient side, but she was nothing like the teenager who had walked the streets with bad crowds, the girl more likely to throw a punch than hear someone out.

The young girl had come a long way since then and the friends she had now were on the right side of the law and still had a good time with her when she needed to escape her studies at the university. She had never been a studious, academic kind of girl, so when it came to the essays and the theory side of her course she quickly grew bored and irritable, finding an escape in the social side of her work and the weekends she spent in the clubs and bars with her friends, letting go of the stresses of the week.

At least Eric was awake and hadn’t crawled into bed the second he had arrived home. Not all of the bar staff at Gotham did that but there were nights when the push of the day had them exhausted before their shifts and then a popular show and a busy crowd kept them even busier than they would want to be. Sometimes beds just called to them and Will herself had groaned her way through late night conversations with her housemates as she dragged her legs up the stairs to the attic room that she called her own. Keeping herself upright, despite her vision spinning the world around her, she let out a frustrated sigh and lifted her blue-green eyes to meet Eric’s. “Not the apocalypse. My housemates bailed on me and took the keys so I’m locked out.”

[/color] She explained, slurring her words only slightly as she told him the short version of the tale, choosing to leave out the bit about why they had left without her in the first place. She followed his gaze to the specks of blood that had stained her shirt and what would probably be a nightmare to get out in the wash. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, it’s only mine.”[/color] She waved her hand to disregard his worry and straightened out her shirt. She didn’t think that he might need more reassurance or a stronger explanation, thanks to the alcohol coursing through her system.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 519
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Eric was a night owl and only needed a handful of hours of sleep a night. It helped a lot when there was a ton of school work to be done and not enough hours in the day to do it all. It also helped working the hours he did. Classes all day then spend the night behind the bar at Gotham. He was thinking of sleep when he’d left Gotham but by the time he got home, his thoughts were more on finishing up some reading and maybe even starting on the notes he’d have to take for the essay he had due in a couple weeks. It was pretty simple for him. He’d read all about the engineering project the class was currently all about when he was fifteen. He already knew what he was going to write, he just had to put it to paper and write out the proper quotes and references.

Finding Will on his doorstep however, put a halt to his plans, though he hardly minded. Talking to a friend, or dealing with their issues was far less boring than searching out references from his shelves of textbooks. Eric leaned against the door frame, looking down at his fellow bartender. “Well, so long as the zombie’s aren’t on their way. I didn’t bring my kit downstairs with me,” he drawled sarcastically. It wasn’t obvious at first but by the end of her explanation, Eric was aware his friend wasn’t this side of buzzed. Eric rolled his eyes, opening the door wider to let the sarcastic drunk girl through. “It’s only yours,” Eric muttered shaking his head.

“Come on then! Up we go,” he said, slapping his hands together to call Treble from the bathroom break he’d taken. Not thinking she’d make it up the four flights of stairs herself, Eric through his arm around her shoulders and walked with her up the four flights of stairs between them and his apartment while treble raced up to each landing ahead of them. He pushed his apartment door open letting Treble and Will through before he let himself in and shut the door behind him. He knew all his neighbours and wasn’t worried about anything while he was awake. So while his eyes were open, his door was unlocked.

Eric had an open fridge policy with his friends whenever they were over. He didn’t like having to get up to get something for them or listening to them ask him if they could have this or eat that every five minutes. It was the same at home with all the kids’ friends. If they were hungry or thirsty, they had to get it themselves. “Help yourself if you want anything,” He said, waving towards the kitchenette area as he walked down the short hallway to his bedroom. He pulled open the second drawer from the top, chose a shirt at random then slammed the drawer once again. He came back from his room, tossing the shirt towards Will. “Coffee?” he asked, going straight over to the kitchen and pulling a can of club soda from the fridge. If there was one thing his mother lived by, it was club soda. It was to the point that you could walk into any one of the Jacobs’ kids’ houses and find cans readily available for fix it moments. While in the kitchen, though, Eric did start up the coffee maker, needing one himself.

Tag || Will!!
Words || 575
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Willow already had odd sleeping patterns. Most nights she would be awake until the sun was beginning to rise and then she’d crash until her alarm signalled that it was time for class. Other nights she’d crash ridiculously early and then wake up before the alarm started screeching at her. It was probably not the healthiest way to live, but it suited Will and she had yet to find problems with it so far and she had lived like that for a number of years now. Plus, it helped balance her out with the long nights at Gotham and her school work. Most of the time when she planned on having an early night or going to bed at a certain time, it never happened because something else came up, she got distracted or she simply found that the feeling of exhaustion passed a little while before.

She was glad she hadn’t interrupted anything, but she was also too drunk to figure that right now, which didn’t exactly make things better. Instead she just looked up at Eric, still tiny even in the chunky heels she wore, and shook her head. “I don’t think I could outrun rage zombies right now and the other kinds are still struggling to wrap their decomposing minds around stairs.”

[/color] Even drunk, Will could hold a somewhat coherent zombie discussion. She should probably be more worried about that; she can’t get home but she can plan a strategy for a zombie apocalypse.

Normally, when it came to stairs, Will just crawled up them. She had no choice really. After a few drinks she wouldn’t let her housemates carry her because it would just result in multiple deaths and her bedroom was the attic of the house so she had more stairs than the rest of them to get up. Crawling had been useful and only once had she given up halfway and just slept on the staircase itself. She was barely aware of Treble, but made sure to keep herself safely out of his reach before she found herself tangled up in dog, pulling Eric with her. She got the giggles at the very thought of it, especially since they worked together and would have to explain why they were both bruised and aching if they did take a tumble down the stairs.

Once inside, she sunk down by the wall like she always did when she was drunk. The floor always seemed so much more appealing to her then than comfy couches or chairs did. At the end of a good night, she was always cross legged on the floor, having a conversation and usually munching away on something too, usually chilli fries that she had collected on the way home after talking about them for at least an hour. That hadn’t happened tonight though; she had been too distracted by the blood and lack of keys in her possession. Pushing herself to her feet, she kicked off the boots, dropping back down to her tiny height of five one, before meandering towards the sink, finding the first glass to get herself some water. The sensation of dry mouth was setting in and she hated it. Instinct and reflexes allowed her to catch the shirt chucked at her, but it took her a few seconds to put two and two together. “Coffee sounds great.”[/color] She didn’t stop to think about where she was or that she wasn’t in private, but instead just whipped off her bloody shirt and staggered into the new one, swearing when she couldn’t find the sleeve. The bra she wore had been part of her outfit tonight anyway and back in the house it had happened time and time again when she had been searching for a shirt in the laundry and one of the guys had strolled in. Will wasn’t shy at the best of times, but this was purely another drunken move that didn’t listen to logic.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 662
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Eric didn’t know what sleep was, but it didn’t matter when he didn’t need much of it. A couple hours a night was good for him and he was back on his feet ready for what ever happened to come his way. Seeing Will on his doorstep at such a late hour wasn’t as surprising as it should have been. But everyone knew he kept weird hours and it was a safe bet that unless he was sick, he was awake. Still seeing Will on his doorstep, drunk as he’d ever seen her was pretty amusing and a new reason to be happy he hardly slept. He rolled his eyes, he really couldn’t help it. If zombies taking over the planet were the most important thing going on in that head of her, Eric was pretty sure she’d be perfectly fine in the morning. “Don’t worry, Treble likes playing with zombies, don’t you boy?” he called up the stairs to the dog.

He had thought the stairs would be more trouble, but they had gone fairly smoothly and the three of them were back up in the apartment, safe and sound in no time at all. He hoped they didn’t wake Chloe up, she’d said something about diving practice really early so he figured that by now she was probably fast asleep. They were pretty quiet though, considering where they lived, so he didn’t dwell too much on the matter. Whenever he was drunk, he fell on the closest comfortable surface handy, whether that be the couch, the chair or if he had enough sobriety to get his ass to the bed down the hall.

Eric hadn’t minded seeing Will at the sink with the glass of water. He had told her to go ahead, and he’d meant it. His friends were welcome to treat his home as their own, within reason of course. He was going to make a sarcastic remark about the nice catch she’d made while intoxicated but before he could open his mouth, she was stripping out of the shirt and chucking it to the side. He rolled his eyes, having as many sisters as he had; it wasn’t uncommon for any one of them to be running about the house without a top. “You strip down in everyone’s house or am I just lucky?” he asked, wiggling his brows. He was teasing but anything to get a rise from her. Still, he continued to make the coffee, getting mugs and sugar from the cupboards, the milk from the fridge since he wasn’t sure how she took her coffee, though a guess would venture black at this moment.

Tag || Will!!
Words || 442
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Anyone who called Willow a friend ought to know by now that the petite brunette was likely to turn up at all hours, especially on the weekend. She had been a night owl ever since her troublesome teenage years and even if the darker days were behind her, she was still unable to let go of some of the habits; like this little night visit routine she did without care! Will wasn’t thinking about the morning right now, the state she would be in or the endless teasing that Eric might use against her after this. There was bound to be a moment behind the bar when he felt like bringing this up; everyone teased each other at the club and more often than not it seemed as though the bar staff were one of the comedy acts too! “As long as you’ve trained him to go for the head first. Although, he should probably go for the back of the head, just to avoid getting himself in a dangerous position to their teeth.”

[/color] She snapped her own pearly whites together to emphasise the point she was making.

Willow had never been one of those girls to make a big deal out of how she looked or how people saw her. She wasn’t going to scream if someone walked in on her changing or slap someone for passing comment on her appearance. Girls who did that often needed slapping in Will’s opinion, but then the tiny mechanic had grown up in a town where girls parading around in bikini tops and little shorts had actually been a practical choice to combat the blistering heat. “Oh, you’re just the lucky one, Eric.”[/color] She said sarcastically, adding a cheesy wink and then rolling her eyes and laughing. To Will, that sort of thing was no big deal and nothing to fuss over, especially since she lived with three other guys. “If you had played some music it could’ve been a show.”[/color] She joked, smoothing the t-shirt out so that it wasn’t twisted around her. Needless to say, it was on the bigger size on her tiny frame, but she didn’t care; she liked baggy shirts and stealing guy clothes purely for their comfort.

Running her fingers through her hair, Will slipped back down to the ground. There was something about kitchen floors when she had been drinking and she found them one of the comfiest places to be at the end of a night in the city where her ears were ringing from the loud music and the spinning room left her feeling sleepy. Right now, she was getting the munchies, remembering that she hadn’t done her usual stop off for some take-out since her dilemma had left her thinking about other things than food. “Mm, grilled cheese.”[/color] She mumbled out loud, her pale eyes closing at the thought. Every drunk person developed cravings and Will was no different, currently wanting nothing but grilled cheese, though the floor was much too comfy to move from right now.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 543
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Not many of Eric’s friends would find ginger haired guy on their doorsteps in the middle of the night; on any night. Normally it was his friends who found themselves on his doorstep and him helping them through their drunken issues that in the light of the next day weren’t even important enough to warrant a visit. Eric figured it was because he lived pretty close to the clubs and bars that the student’s frequented a lot, so it was easier after a night of partying to find themselves at his house for the after party. And since his building was basically students, there was usually always noise around the place and about a dozen people willing to let you in despite not knowing you personally.

That was how, even sleeping, he found himself with an apartment full of people to host. Thankfully, tonight wasn’t one of those nights and there weren’t any parties happening that he knew of or could hear. It seemed as if he were the only one awake in the entire building, though he thought that was unlikely. “Treble’s been well trained, don’t worry about him,” he commented, easily keeping up the ridiculous conversation. He didn’t know how just yet, or when, but Eric was determined to use some parts of this night for fodder at work. There was something there that would eventually be useful for him to use as blackmail or something so he wouldn’t have to do inventory or something. That is, if she didn’t tell on herself first.

Back in the kitchen with Will, Eric just shook his head at her remark before grinning wickedly across to her. “I bet you say that to all the guys,” he said, fighting back an eye roll. Throwing clothes of was probably nothing new to either of them. Eric had four sisters, if one of them wasn’t in some state of undress roaming the house, it was because they were asleep or not home at all. He snapped his fingers together, moving to pour the coffee he had brewed. “Damn, I knew I should have turned the music on,” he said dryly, pouring the black liquid into two mugs he’d taken down from the cupboard.

Eric took both cups back over to Will on the floor and sat down next to her, pushing the second cup over to her. He sipped his own, wondering what she was doing sitting on the kitchen floor. It was still a thing that confused him, whenever he was drunk, he found the first available soft surface, usually the couch. When Will was drunk, she found where the wall met the floor and dropped. Eric looked at Will over his mug, grinning into the ceramic cup. “Want one?” he asked, shaking his head once the cup was clear of his mouth. Leave it to the brunette with the purple tips he called a friend to want grilled cheese drunk. His to-go was pizza. That was all he wanted when he was drunk, and nothing else would do until he got at least one slice. Standing again, he went about the kitchen, gathering what he’d need from the cupboards and refrigerator, making a small pile on the counter next to the stove, which he turned on.

Tag || Will!!
Words || 545
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Willow had experienced her fair share of couch surfing, especially in her early days in the city before she found herself a room in the house with the guys she now loved and loathed like they were her brothers. Tonight, it was easier to pick up that old habit again, rather than try to drag her drunken form across the city to her own warm bed. She didn’t think she’d have the energy for the walk, especially since she felt the sleepy side effects of drinking slowly starting to creep in as she pushed the dark hair back from her face and blinked herself awake a little more.

She looked down at the dog and smiled. Will had never had a pet growing up and after her father’s death it had never been possible with the constant moving from home to home and family to family. Perhaps she’d have one in New York, but she dreaded what a dog might be trained to do in the kind of house she lived in now. “You really should take the threat of zombies more seriously.”

[/color] She said with a slight slur of her words as she looked up at her ginger friend, stumbling ever so slightly as she kicked her own heel.

This time Willow rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Yeah, that’s the kind of girl I am. I just can’t help myself; I have to take my clothes off for the guys.”[/color] She said, each word dripping with sarcasm. She was by no means innocent, but Willow had never been that sort of a girl, though she didn’t take offence at the jokes. She was used to them by now and often had a comeback on the tip of her tongue ready for whenever some comment was hurled her way. “Your loss, Eric my man! We could’ve had something wonderful.”[/color] She laughed, shaking her head as she ran her fingers through her hair. It was nothing but a silly joke to her, but her sense of humour had been far from clean for many years now, especially thanks to the company she kept. It was only made more hilarious for her by the alcohol making the room spin and putting her in such a silly mood.

Her lips twitched upwards as she raised the mug to her lips, sipping the hot drink and then sighing contently. This was just what she needed right now and she rested her head against the wall as she nursed the coffee in her hands. “If you do this for me, you’re a domestic goddess! Well, god…well, you could be a goddess if you wanted to be. It’s really all down to you. I can see you in a little frilly pink apron though, just for the record.”[/color] It was another drunken ramble that seemed to be directed into the mug she kept against her lips for the whole time she was talking. Once he was standing and moving about to make her the drunken treat she craved, Willow stretched out, sinking lower until she was pretty much sprawled out on his kitchen floor, her head using her arms as a pillow whilst she sipped at the coffee from an awkward angle. She was surprisingly comfy right now and the grilled cheese would be the cherry on the top! She could feel herself getting sleepy which would mean Eric would soon be laughing at her or phoning someone to help deal with her. When Willow hit sleepy drunk, then the fun and games truly began.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 629
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Growing up there was always noise in the Jacobs home. If it wasn’t the birds squawking or the dogs barking, it was the kids yelling. There was no such thing as silence before midnight on any given night when the eldest of the brood that still lived at home were shipped off to their rooms. It had always been a rule in the house, growing up. The children were all up in their rooms at set times. They didn’t have to go to bed, but they had to be in their rooms. It was then that Eric took the time to practice his keyboard since he could plug headphones in and only he could hear it. Before he’d gotten his first, he spent the time with a children’s show on the TV in the corner, a colouring book open on his bed and the entire pack of crayons scattered around him. Usually five minutes into the colouring he did, he was out like a light and his mom or dad had to clear off the bed and tuck him in. So when he moved to New York for college, Eric needed something other than his music to keep the noise in the apartment. It hadn’t taken him long to go down to the nearest shelter and adopt Treble.

His canine companion had been lucky, both of them had. Treble only spent three days in that shelter, the litter had be found abandoned but someone had obviously taken care of the bunch since they were otherwise healthy and old enough to be adopted out. Eric would have taken more than one of them home if he lived in a much bigger place. As it was, with all his school things and collection of instruments, there was barely any room in the apartment for the two of them and any friends who happened to knock on his door drunker than Captain Jack Sparrow faked it. “In the morning when we’ve both had coffee, we’ll map out strategy plans, exits and good locales to run to for hiding purposes. I already have the treadmill distribution place set up with my order. They’ll ship the minute I make a call to them,” he said rolling his eyes. This or other variations of zombie conversations happened all the time; drunk and sober. There were plans for plans for plans!

“I knew it!” He said, acting like he’d solved the case. Sherlock Holmes he was not, by any means. If anything, Eric liked hearing all the different remarks Will had at the ready for whenever these kinds of jokes appeared. He was pretty sure in the time he’d down the other bartender, he hadn’t heard the same comeback twice. Eric snapped his fingers as if the time had passed and it was now too late. “Well, damn, just my luck, eh?” He asked, dryly. “Would I be wearing a darling fifties house wife dress to match that apron?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “If anything, I think I’d prefer the toga. Show that Cullen kid you don’t need sparkly makeup to be whiter than Casper,” she said, shaking his head. He really didn’t know what girl’s saw in those stupid movies. Even his sister, Kylee was obsessed with them; though it wasn’t the leads that she loved but the supporting characters she enjoyed the most. Still, Eric hated getting on the phone with her because he just knew somehow she would manage to bring up that movie franchise. Eric made the grilled cheese and wished he’d waited to finish off that sandwich he’d picked up on his way home from the club. Within a few minutes Eric was putting a sandwich on a plate and holding it down to the drunker than drunk friend sitting on the floor before cleaning up his mess and rejoining her with his coffee in hand.

Tag || Will!!
Words || 645
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Before her father’s death, the Holt Household had been a fun place to be. There was always something happening for father and daughter to enjoy, whether it was a terrifying baking attempt for the school fair, a loud and rumbustious game night or some crazy fantasy game in which Willow took on the role of the hero and fought valiantly against the evil pirate, who often went by the name of dad. When it came to her mother, Willow didn’t spare the woman the time of day. Vanishing when she was a baby because of problems, Willow might have been able to understand, but completely ceasing to exist and not coming forward after her dad’s death drove the final nail into that coffin. If Will never saw the woman again it would be too damn soon. The tiny mechanic had lived a wonderful childhood without needing a mother and so she definitely didn’t need one now when her life was back on track after a few wobbly years. Losing her family was definitely the worst thing to happen to Will and it was the reason she was protective over the friends she had now. She had seen what could happen to people, had been on both sides of the law and now she wanted to keep everyone she could away from those darker places.

Willow nodded along with her friend, thinking it was a very good idea, especially if she was going to wake up with a hangover to deal with. Zombie apocalypse planning was one of her strongest subjects, though it would very rarely win her any points in a quiz, unless the question was on zombie movies, in which case Will had seen and owned them all. They were pretty much the only genre in her movie collection, along with most of Quentin Tarantino’s movies. “Providing they haven’t already been bitten.”

[/color] Willow said, raising her eyebrow and looking across at the tall ginger to try and provide her with a Plan B. She could happily spend the rest of her days discussing this sort of thing, regardless of how many people told her it was unlikely to happen.

Will never saw herself as funny, but sarcastic as hell, she could be. It was really one of the only ways she could get through each day with the idiots she either lived with or met as the hours ticked by and she switched the campus garages for the bar. “I’d have been a stripper, but apparently I have a bad attitude.”[/color] She joked, shrugging like it was no big deal. In reality, the only work she had applied for in New York had been bar work and she planned on keeping it that way until she got a position in a garage or somewhere where she could bury herself in an engine. Holding her hands up, Will looked up at her friend and smirked. “Hey, if you want to dress up as a darling fifties housewife then I won’t judge. It would answer a few questions though…”[/color] She teased lightly. She was surprising herself at how quick she was tonight, considering just how much she had drank before arriving at Eric’s. Will let out a loud laugh at his Cullen comment, clapping her hands in applause at the remark. She hated Twilight and everything that came with it, so tearing it apart with quips like that really did make her day. “I’m with you on that one! You never would think that I spent almost twenty years living in the Mojave Desert.”[/color] She glanced down at her own ridiculously pale skin. Hardly anyone believed where she hailed from now, since she hadn’t returned to Mojave once she had moved to New York and as such had lost all of her tan. It had happened surprisingly quickly too and now she looked like could easily blend in with a family of vampires. She could wait for her sandwich and moaned contently as she bit into it, repositioning herself on the floor so that she could use Eric’s thigh as a pillow while she enjoyed her drunken meal.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 681
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Eric’s father was hardly around, since he was at a high position in the Military. But the family got along with phone calls and emails when he was stationed away from them. Eric thought of the man constantly when he was shipped off to be near the front lines. It was a scary place to be for any one, but Eric had always figured that his father wouldn’t have taken on the role of hero if he wasn’t prepared to give up everything to protect his country. His sisters had a harder time with it, fearing for that knock on the door. But the boys understood it all a little better. And despite saying he didn’t want his children to follow in his footsteps; there were two in the military already. Eric wasn’t about to be one of them, appreciating what those men and women were doing, but Eric wasn’t a fighter.

So, if the zombie apocalypse were coming, he would need Will on his side. “They’ve got their own protocols in place for such an occurrence, don’t worry. Those treadmills will make it to us,” he said, matter-of-factly to the drunken girl. It was useless, but Eric wondered when and how this conversation took this turn. He was pretty sure he’d started the zombie part of it though, with an offhand remark meant to tease not take a serious turn. Of course, he should have known better than to mention zombie’s to Will, drunk or sober. It always turned into a longer than it should have been conversation.

“Then you’re perfectly suited for the job! They all have bad attitudes, or so I’m told. I wouldn’t know for certain since I know no strippers personally,” Eric said, rolling his eyes. It was truth, if not close to it. Eric really wouldn’t know since he’d never actually met a stripper, or been to a club. He’d had other things on his mind than to sit around a dark, smoky room watching girls strip down to next to nothing for a few tips that wouldn’t pay next month’s rent. “Halloween is coming,” he said vaguely. The holiday may have been a few months off yet, but that didn’t stop the ginger haired musician from already thinking about his costume. When he was a kid, Halloween had been the time of year that he enjoyed the most. All that candy and dressing up. There were a few years he changed his costume a couple times, and hit up all the same houses again so he would get more than his siblings. “My mother will be so proud,” Eric said blandly, sipping from his coffee as Will made herself comfortable. “She always wanted me to grow up and become a pillow.”

Tag || Will!!
Words || 458
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

These days, Will rarely spoke of her family. If she did it was always something vague enough that people didn’t seem to ask any questions or pick up anything interesting from it. To get into her past and the details of her life in Mojave would be to open a box Willow kept a lid on for a reason. Her friends knew where she was from, she mentioned the desert in passing conversation and when it was necessary, but aside from that, Will was kind of a closed book. Any mention of her mother had the blood boiling in her veins and talk of her father just depressed the tiny brunette more than she cared to even contemplate most of the time. The necklace around her neck was her permanent reminder of him and the rest were kept in a shoebox in the back of her wardrobe. Her tale had yet to find a happy ending and so it wasn’t exactly one that she enjoyed sharing; especially not when people looked at her with pity in their eyes.

Every year came another apocalyptic theory and Will always joked that if there weren’t zombies roaming the streets when the end of the world came, the biggest threat to the survivors would be how pissed off she was. For someone barely over five feet tall, she had a mighty temper and most of her friends knew that. She kept it under control most of the time, but like most people she had her triggers that sent her into a blind rage; the end of the world being anything but a zombie apocalypse could very well be another one to add to that list. “If they don’t, it’ll be on your head, Jacobs. I’ll be reminding you of it as we travel towards the ocean.”

[/color] It didn’t matter the place or time; if someone mentioned zombies or cars, Will was there and it took an awful lot to drag her away from that and shut her up.

Narrowing her pale eyes, Will took a step closer to her tall ginger friend. “And you’re not about to know one personally, either.”[/color] Will already had a mouthful to offer the customers she saw ogling other customers at the club. It wasn’t so much that she felt like defending the honour of her own gender because most of the time other girls dressed to get those heads turning their way; Will just often found herself asking if they’d never seen another woman before. Some men were like birds around shiny objects when a woman showed a bit of skin and Willow just couldn’t understand it. “It is indeed. I’m expecting something brilliant from you.”[/color] She mumbled, pointing her finger lazily in his direction. Halloween costumes were something she’d think about in a few months, but normally she put a badass twist on something that already existed and was simple enough to make. Willow didn’t like the idea of costumes clogging up her wardrobe space when she’d only wear the things once or twice in her lifetime. “I’ll be sure to write and tell her of your success.”[/color] Willow replied sarcastically, speaking around the grilled cheese in her mouth. The exhaustion was creeping in a bit now that she was out of the nightclub and not staggering slightly through the streets. She still had no intention of moving though, even when her grilled cheese was finished she just dropped her hands to her stomach and let out a sigh of intoxicated contentment. “You could make a living from this, I bet.”[/color] She slurred, not even pausing to think that Eric might not have a clue what she was talking about.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 652
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3

[Eric Henry Jacobs]

Eric’s whole upbringing was about family. So when he moved so far away from them, it was difficult at first, but he’d made friends and the people he worked with quickly became his family away from. A couple of his sisters visited often enough that he kept things they liked about the cozy space. But the rest only kept in touch throughout the year with e-mails, phone calls and text messages. They all managed to get together for Christmas, with Tessa’s and Kat’s husbands, Abby’s and Kylee’s boyfriends, Trevor’s girlfriend and the three kids that made up the next generation of Jacobs’ from Tess and Abby. With such a close family, it was hard not to talk about them, even when he knew it annoyed people, most of his stories from his past involved one or more of the family; even the stupid stunts he pulled back then usually had Trevor or Kylee in them since they were the closest in age.

It wasn’t that Eric didn’t enjoy the zombie apocalyptic conversations, he did, but he also couldn’t last long in them unless someone was carrying him. He always ran out of clever ideas and just ended up shrugging or changing the subject. With Will, she carried the conversation and usually let it die when the ginger haired musician ran out of ideas. With the time and the fact that he was practically dead on his feet, that end was coming a little faster than usual. “If you don’t shoot me first,” he said rolling his eyes. He was thankful they were in the apartment now and conversation would switch to sleep and food like all good drunk minds travelled to.

Eric raised his hands in surrender. “I am well aware, believe me,” he said, promising in his own way. He knew Will well enough to know that wouldn’t fly. And like his petite brunette friend, he had a few things to say to the guys at the club who thought it was acceptable to stare. Having as many sisters as he’d had, it was no wonder he was the way he was. There was no way to get away with staring at pretty women for too long without someone slapping you upside the head. Eric had seen Tess and Kat do it enough time to Trevor to know better when he got older and discovered girls for himself. Eric could only shake his head at the change in topic. Halloween was always a favourite around the club as well, pulling in some ‘spooky’ acts to please the audience. “I’ve got a few things I’m thinking about, don’t worry,” he said, grinning wickedly. Eric was a fan of any major holiday that he could decorate for. It was part of the fun of it all.

Reality was, his mother expected him to do something with his music and have that pretty piece of paper, framed and hung up on his wall as something to fall back on if music fell short for him. And that was exactly Eric’s plans, too. Engineering was something he loved and was good at, but music was everything to him. It was his heart, his soul. If he could eat music, he would. But these little jokes always made his mother laugh whenever he passed on the story. She would get a kick out of this night, for sure. She’d always been the one to call when any of them had gone out with friends and were drinking and needed a ride home. It was safer to find her sitting in the living room or at the kitchen table at three am after returning from the clubs instead of their father. Just because he didn’t want his children to follow him in his career choices, didn’t mean he wanted to find them crawling in from the dark drunk and stumbling. He always gave harsh punishments while his wife laughed at them, helped them and shooed them off to bed. He knew firsthand how both worked the problem. “Thanks for the help,” he said sarcastically. Eric patted Will’s shoulder comfortingly, wondering if he should have grabbed that bucket or not when her comment caught his attention. “The food or being a pillow?” he asked, grinning, unable to help himself.

Tag || Will!!
Words || 713
Clothes || Best Dressed!
Music || Feel Like a Rock Star by Kenny Chesney
Notes || <3

[Willow-Jae Dakota Holt]

Leaving Mojave had been more of a necessity than a choice. Willow never had a future there; not after what she had done. She might have redeemed herself in the eyes of some, but there would always be others willing to remind her of her past and ruin any chance she had of happiness there. New York had offered her the clean break, the fresh start and the future that Mojave would only deny her of if she allowed herself to be trapped there. Maybe she did feel lonely when everyone went home to visit their families, but Willow would never show it. Her family was gone, dead, and there was no changing that and she didn’t need the sympathy of anyone else.

She had to nod, since he had a good point. Willow’s conversations about the zombie apocalypse in the past had made it very clear that the tiny brunette had no use for mistake makers in her survival team. “At least then you’d be dead so you wouldn’t feel the zombies ripping you apart.”

[/color] She offered casually, as though murdering friends was a common subject for the Californian girl to be thinking about. Willow might have had a nasty temper, but she didn’t quite think she was capable of murdering someone just for the sake of it. Of course, if the zombie apocalypse were to happen it wouldn’t just be murder for the sake of murder, so that was a whole different topic to fill up some of the hours at work when the bar was quieter than normal.

For years people had tried to tell Will that her volatile personality would land her in trouble and it certainly had done. No matter how restrained she was now compared to five years ago, Willow still found herself with a pretty mouthful for certain customers or people she came across in nightclubs. Really, it was a surprise that she still had a job, but no surprise that she never hooked up with anyone on these drunken escapades. She had far too much to say to someone who laid their hands on her and even more to say if they tried to calm her down like she was some dumb girl overreacting. Laughing about it with friends was one thing and teasing the guys when they were rejected was all good, but there was a line and Willow did not allow that line to be crossed under any circumstances; even her closest friends and her housemates had occasionally been subjected to that special wrath. “So long as they’re good. Or I’ll have to hurt you.”[/color] She had almost forgotten what they were talking about now, but Halloween lingered in the back of her mind. She wasn’t a big fan of any holiday and Halloween and New Years were just an excuse to get drunk and do crazy things. The rest of them were kind of a waste to her, so she worked through them, ignoring her boss whenever he asked why she wasn’t heading home or going out.

Willow hadn’t needed New York to tell her of her dreams. She knew from when she was just an innocent little girl with wide eyes and rosy cheeks that she’d be under the bonnets of cars and other vehicles once she was old enough to do so. It might not be what every little girl dreams of and people still seemed surprised now, but if a friend had car problems then they knew who to call. She’d never change the world or have her name in lights, but Willow had never wanted anything like that and in reality her own dreams were much simpler; a garage of her own, some good friends and a life without any drama. The last part might have been difficult, but she thought the rest doable, at least. “You’re welcome. I can pull of a mean recommendation letter, too.”[/color] She added, like it actually mattered. She still had hers locked away at home in case she ever needed them again. They had gotten her to New York and into college, so who knew what else they might do for her?

Willow didn’t care that they were still on the kitchen floor; she was comfy. Rolling onto her side, her arms wrapped around Eric’s leg-turned-pillow and she carelessly flung her own tiny leg over his ankle as she got comfortable in this odd new position. “Both. You’re a drunken person’s idea of bliss.”[/color] She barely knew what words she was mumbling as she closed her eyes, slowly slipping further away from consciousness now that she was fed and comfy.
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• • •

TAGGED! Eric!
WORDS! 809
OUTFIT! Casual Mess
LYRICS! In Fate’s Hand - - - Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
NOTES! <3