My Luck • •

[Deleted]

New York was supposed to be a new start for Bailey, but after three years there she was starting to think that the fates just didn't want to cut her a break. Sure, people might not have been whispering behind her back and camera weren't shoved unceremoniously into her face on the anniversary of that horrific memory, but Bailey still had more than enough to deal with. Her landlord was constantly hounding her even when she didn't owe rent, school hadn't begun but the book list for her final year was going to break the bank and then some and now, on a day when she was hoping to get some things done, she was called into work early by her boss. One of her colleagues had come down with something and so he needed someone there to authorise the deliveries and to deal with the cleaning and checks before they opened their doors later in the day. It dragged her out of bed only a few hours after she had fallen into it.

Still, it meant money and money meant she might be able to go a week without shimmying down the fire escape to avoid the man with the glare to rival her own; and Bailey had perfected hers at fourteen. Getting dressed and dealing with a quick morning routine, she crunched down the bowl of cereal while ironing the few shirts that remained from her last trip to the laundromat down the street. In the end she chose to wear none of them, but it was one job she could strike off her to-do list, even if the muti-tasking of eating, ironing and folding left her with a bit of a stomach ache by the time she pulled on her booties and left the apartment. It said something about where she lived and who she paid rent to when she had to peer over the bannister to make sure that he wasn't lurking on a lower floor, pestering someone else. An encounter with him was not something she needed before going into what would be a double shift at Font Bar. Luckily, the coast was clear and Bailey got out of the building with only a brush with a mangy looking cat that belonged to one of the women on the ground floor.

The bar was a thirty minute walk from her apartment door and it was one Bailey was used to. She was strapped for cash enough each month without needing to fork out for transportation too. To pass the time she made a quick call to her dad, giving him the usual “everything is great” spiel. Bailey never liked him worrying, even when she lived at home, so now she was so far away she did everything she could to make sure he didn't have to be concerned about her. He knew nothing of the nightmares of her New York life and if Bailey had her way it would always stay like that. Fishing her keys for the bar from her bag, Bailey let herself into the dark bar, using a stool to prop the door open while she found the light box. Plus, she liked airing the place out a bit when she was on these morning shifts, just so it didn't reek of stale beer. After a few years of working here she knew her way around well enough, but she never liked walking through anywhere in the dark. Plus, here there was always the chance of an upturned stool cracking a shin or a knee. A few glasses remained by the stage from the night before and she collected them up once the light allowed her to see. Hearing something by the door while she turned on the glass-wash, Bailey sighed and grabbed the cleaning products from under the back of the bar. “Unless you're here to get me drunk on tequila, we're closed.” She called, standing up right and then letting her brown eyes fall on the unexpected guest.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 670!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

The bar scene had been home for Valor since he moved here, time after time he'd show up just before opening and leave when he was kicked out just before, or shortly after closing. If he made it that long without getting into a fight that is, this time might have been different. No, it was in fact different this time. This bar was new, it was different, it wasn't one he'd been tossed out of and it wasn’t one he’d actually ever been in. Only recently had he been outside it, panhandling to make a quick buck when he was approached by staff who asked him to leave the premises and not only a few moments later was approached by management after being labeled a “nuisance” by staff members. Management told him if you need cash, you’re going to work for it. Valor thought that was humorous telling the manager that he’d never pass a drug screening let alone a background check. The terms were then laid out as though Valor actually deserved the offer. The manager told him he was to work only when he was needed, this would consist mostly of holidays and super busy weekends. It didn't leave much in the way of 'if you need cash you're going to work for it' but left more to the 'you'll be my monkey to work only when I need you and act as a what is essentially free labor'. Legal? Not in the slightest. He was paid well under minimum wage and was used as needed. He'd not been called in today, so why was he even here? He honestly didn't know, he was on his way home when he seen the door propped open and decided to be nosy. His sunken blue eyes held a light blue hue with small, constricted pupils. His mouth was dry as a bone and his body felt heavy but his mind was at peace and that's what really mattered.

He propped himself against the door frame, watching the girl inside do what was essentially her job. His eyes followed her movements and he was prepared to run if she chased him out. "Ain't it s'posed to be you gettin' me drunk?" He laughed in a tired, raspy tone that was a classic trademark of his violent addiction. The girl didn't seem like the joking type and he'd no intentions of sticking around. He didn't really expect to be heard, or seen. He had mostly planned on watching for a bit, wandering in once they were open and stumbling too the men's room. Now that she'd seen him he wasn't sure if he'd follow through. He might feel bad if his plan went properly and she was to drag his body from a dirty bathroom stall. She seemed like she was already having a rotten day who was he to make it any worse. "Don't mind me now, " He said lifting his heavy head to meet her eyes "I ain't gonna cause you no fuss." Valor smirked, his eyes closed and his head drooped as he kept himself on a lean against the bar door's frame. His dry, chapped lips carried very little colour as he started to nod out, the slightest shift brought him back to holding his head up as his eyes shot open as though he'd been startled. There were many mornings like this, where Valor barely made it home. There was a bitter taste in the back of his throat as he cleared it, with the bitter taste rising he gagged and scratched his nose, then his face, his neck, his stomach and returned to scratching his nose. He took a deep breath and shook his head which somehow relieved his itching for whatever reason. It made sense to him though, Valor caught the eye of the girl once more and quickly looked away hoping she wouldn't catch on. He knew however that the day someone didn't catch on to his problem was the day his life had turned around and he could live normally. Did he even want that?

Words: 687
Quote:  Disney's Robin Hood (1973)
Notes: x-x

[Deleted]

Bailey had managed to come across this job by a very rare stroke of luck. It still wasn't perfect, but it was regular work and it kept the lights on and a roof over her head. Sort of. Sometimes the electricity had to take a break for the water to run, and it had long since passed the first time her landlord used the master key to get into her apartment to hassle her for rent. Bailey wasn't as up on her luck as she liked to pretend from time to time. In fact, she was usually just forcing the smile while searching for quick cash opportunities. Font Bar was just the safety net with a few too many holes. For once she would like to make it through a month without a final notice coming through her mailbox, or without her landlord pressing her in the hallway for cash. Before meeting him and the dump he liked to rent to her Bailey thought drainpipe shimmying was something only teenagers did when there was a party on the other side of town.

As Bailey bent forward to wipe over the nearest table, a slow chuckle rose from her throat. “Well sometimes it ought to be the other way around.” She said honestly, keeping her eyes focused on removed a ring mark from the wood. There was no harm in it since there was no one else around to overhear her. If it wasn't for school driving her forward, Bailey might have fallen for the bottle a few years back. She didn't drink often, but when she did it was drinking to forget. To forget about Leona and the horrific events that happened there. To forget about the woman she looked so much alike who currently lived in a tiny little cell waiting for the chair. To forget about the mountain of bills, the landlord who was out for her blood, and just about everything else in her life. Bailey hadn't been happy in the longest of times, but there was nothing going to change that. Standing back up straight, Bailey turned to the man and shrugged her shoulders. She didn't care what he did. “So long as it doesn't get me fired you can do whatever you like.” They were paying her the extra cash to come in and set up, not to babysit someone who looked like they hadn't been home for a while. Not that she could talk. She had done her fair share of sleeping in a Font booth or couch surfing in the last three years. No one but her was due in the bar until after the actual opening hours, so it wasn't like her boss would stroll on by and give her a lecture about some guy holding the walls up.

She dumped the cloth and spray on the top of the next table and slowly made her way around the back of the bar. There, she poured herself and the man a glass of water each. “It would be something stronger but I haven't got around to restocking yet.” There was plenty of time for it, but ice cold water was the best anyone could do for now. The keys to everything in the club jingled against her jeans as she moved to hand him the glass. “Despite popular belief, I don't bite. Have a seat.” She was a cold girl and people who knew of her mother half expected Bailey to be the same; after all they were identical in looks. However, she wasn't the type to walk over people or turn people away. She just didn't like them getting close to her.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 663!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

Valor started scratching again, his eyes hurt and stomach churned as he eased into the doorway out of the morning sun. "I jus-" He stopped, he didn't have time to excuse himself. His brisk stumble met him with the men's room door, running into it before managing the actual opening of the door. A wretched noise bellowed from his throat as he tossed the contents of his stomach into the men's room toilet. There wasn't much in his stomach, mostly bile and water. Gagging and retching continued, followed by a hard, violent cough. He felt like he was dying as his body temperature skyrocketed, sweat started to bead on his cold clammy skin. His mind raced violently mostly if he could get into his pockets and if that girl out there followed him. He flushed his stomach bile and water mixture and stumbled back out to the gathering point of Front Bar. "Well I can't get you drunk, I ain't got the means." He figured if he acted like his vomit situation never happened, or utterly normal, it wouldn't come up. "I'll tell ya what, He smirked sitting at the bar "I won't get you fired if you don't get me arrested." There was a chuckle in his voice, faint but existing.

He was handed a glass of water and relief washed over him. "I don't bite either, not much anyway" He paused looking down into the glass of water "thank you." He said nodding at the glass as he rested his head on the bar next to the glass. "If I do bite though, you might want to get a series of rabies shots" He grunted with his face pressed against the cool counter top. He wasn't going to deny that he was burning up and staring down the barrel of withdrawal's gun but he wasn't going to give up water right now either. Valor was a contradictory temperature of both hot and cold. He felt as though his skin was crawling and the world around him spinning, burning and all together dying.

He lifted his head sunken, dark circled, pale blue eyes looked at Bailey almost begging her to put a bullet through his head. He took a long drink of the water. The cool, inviting, crystal clear fluid washed over his desert-like mouth like a river breaking through it's dam. It was a relief, but he gagged as it soothed his dry, aching throat. The gag was primarily reflex from the earlier vomiting. He set the water down on the counter " You don't have to do this..." He said knowing damn well he didn't deserve the hospitality "be hospitable I mean. I don't much deserve it and you don't look like you need me around here right now" He laughed, his tone was still raspy and his eyes focused less on Bailey but now more so focused on the water in his hand. There was no sound left in the bar but that's because he'd stopped talking and there was only one other person there. Once the doors opened for the day officially, Valor would probably leave. He couldn't be like this around people, in withdrawal, he'd be tempted to commit murder if a soul bothered him. He placed his face in his cupped hands and sighed. It wasn't fair that he was here and bothering her while she was setting up the bar for business for that day. He watched her move, when she would move. He watched her in a way that wasn't meant to be creepy. He drained the water glass and licked his lips to revive them from their lifeless, chapped forum. While licking them restored colour, they didn't fix the chapped and peeling situation. He picked at them, chewed them and then left them alone. 

Words: 633
Quote:  Disney's Robin Hood (1973)
Notes: oh, Valor gohome. lol

[Deleted]

It didn't take much to figure out that there was something not quite right with her company. Bailey had seen the signs plenty of times before around where she lived. Apartments in New York were not cheap and she lived in a pretty rough area full of people who resembled Valor. However, she wasn't one to judge. Instead, she just watched when he dashed off to the men's room and then winced when she heard the gagging. Font Bar was built to be a loud place, so when it was silent every little noise travelled through, echoing along the way. Bailey gave him a few minutes before she would start thinking about heading on in there, but he emerged before it got that far. She noticed him playing it cool; like the last five minutes hadn't happened. Bailey understood. She knew all about hating the questions and wanting to just forget about things, so she didn't push others. “No, but this place has the means. I just like keeping a roof over my head a little more.” Not that the roof would be there much longer if she didn't start giving her landlord what he wanted. Pausing to look back over at him, Bailey nodded her head and blonde strands fell into her eyes. “Deal. And I'm the last person who would call the cops.” They triggered flashbacks and memories that Bailey had come to New York to bury. She knew they weren't to blame for destroying her childhood, but they were a part of the incident that she did hold responsible for that.

Chuckling, she moved around to finish clearing off the tables, lazily wiping them over before tossing the products back behind the bar and out of sight. “Rabies shots? I got those taken care of when I moved into my place.” There was no denying that it was a dump. Plaster crumbled off the walls, the fire escape didn't exactly cooperate in an emergency and Bailey had once nearly fallen through into the apartment below when some floorboards had rotted last winter. That final job had taken her landlord eight months to fix, but Bailey could barely afford that place so looking for another was totally out of the question. Even the campus dormitories were full with freshman and overseas students on their fancy scholarships. The guy at the bar didn't look so good, but Bailey had seen worse about the city. Plus, he was talking so that had to mean that something was good with him, even if it was only the tiniest of things.

She didn't claim to be an expert on the matter. In fact, her expertise were in electrical engineering and mixology. She could possibly add murder trials and appeals to that short list too, but she would rather not. However, Bailey found herself more attracted to helping and befriending the downtrodden. They were less likely to snake their way into her life and make things complicated for her. She was a tough girl who could handle herself, so they never frightened her off with their appearances or stories. It probably wasn't the healthiest of choices that she could make, but then Bailey had been broken for far too long to worry about that sort of thing. Smirking, Bailey moved to arrange the back of the bar for the opening, cleaning up and tidying as she moved along the length. “Want to know a secret? I don't need to be around here right now.” She hated the lengths she had to go to to keep her head above water. “And this isn't me being hospitable. I'm never hospitable. You can ask anyone.” She refilled his water glass and then pushed it back towards him before swinging her legs up onto the bartop to rest for five minutes, sipping silently from her own glass.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 650!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

"Good cause that's..Cops are 'bout the last thing..." He stopped, trailing off his sentence and quietly nodding out. Sleep didn't come easy for any New York junkie and nodding out was the best Valor had most nights, other nights a slight overdose would knock him into an unconscious state for a few hours. The slightest overdoses were dangerous, his heartbeat would slow, his breathing would go shallow and there was always the chance he wouldn't wake up and if he were to be quite frank, more often than not he'd hoped he wouldn't wake. He lifted and shook his head, he wouldn't force this burden on her much longer. He had all intentions of getting up and leaving but hadn't quite mustered the energy. "the last thing I need." He finally had finished his sentence after a brief moment of falling in and out of a nod. He shuddered at the thought of cops taking him away again. He did all he could to stay away from him. They knew him by name, they knew where he lived and more often than not he felt targeted by them. If they seen him, they'd talk at him and a few had taken to dropping vulgar statements and names on him for fun. In Valor's eyes, everyone who stepped foot in New York needed a vaccination or two.

"I shouldn't...I probably, shouldn't be here." He said, his tone remained quiet and his voice raspy and tired. There was very little life left in his voice and his blue eyes held no hope. Valor was taught many things while living in New York and while not all of those things were true he did learn that no one deserved the burden of his presence. He deserved to be locked up and shut away with no one to burden but himself . His fingernails dug into his elbow ditch as he scratched ferociously at old track marks and scabs. The same tracks existed on his hands, his forearms, his feet, his chest and even along the jugular vein. The scars went through tattoo lines and colour, they surfaced from all those needle pokes over the years, time and time again  he's blindly stab at his body until he hit a stable vein. It happened multiple times a day, it happened whenever he got to feeling the way he did now. Valor knew he could correct his ill feeling quickly but his greediness and lack of self control was up against the amount of federal offense in his pockets.

When she said she wasn't being hospitable he laughed "Listen, you haven't thrown me out that door," He was surprised at how quickly people could forget that a junkie was still a human, he was still a person with feelings and it was depressing how quickly someone could dismiss him as scum, so even the smallest of actions like letting him sit at the bar, giving him water, he recognised these actions as hospitality. It was something that no one had shown him in quite sometime. "you haven't spit vulgar names at me and I didn't even have to beg for a glass of water." He smirked and shook his head in disbelief that he even had to explain this to her. When she pushed his refilled glass back to him, he smiled as he drank from it. He paced this glass and halfway through he couldn't take the torture anymore. He excused himself and went to the bathroom, normally he'd lock the main door behind him, but he didn't this time. Maybe it's because he knew if he fell out and she had to call someone to get to him, she'd get in trouble for letting him in the building in the first place. From his pockets he pulled an insulin needle, a cotton swab and a dime bag full of a beige powder. Taking the orange cap off the back of the needle and the cap off the tip he drew water from the tank on the back of the toilet. His hands shook as he mixed the water with bit of the powder, he drew the solution through a piece of cotton from the swab and started to sweat as the now deep amber hued liquid filled the barrel of the needle. He used the mirror to help pierce the jugular vein on the left side of his neck. Poking around, he drew back when blood flashed and filled the barrel turning the once amber fluid to a deep, dark red. He pushed the plunger down and sighed pulling the empty needle from his neck and wiping up the blood that trickled down with his black shirt collar. 


It hit him almost instantly and he grew weak in his knees as he packed up the needle, swab, and powder back into his pocket. He looked into the mirror watching his pupils constrict once more and smiled softly at relief. The injection spot was red, slightly bubbled out and a little bloody. He splashed his face with cool water from the sink and dried it with a paper towel before returning to the bar counter.  "Sorry." he murmured "So miss never hospitable, what do you call yourself?" Making small talk wasn't exactly something he was good at but as long as she didn't mind him here, he would certainly try.

Words: 897
Lyrics: Night Alone - Mest
Notes: Oh sweet Valor....-sigh-

[Deleted]

Cops asked too many questions for Bailey's liking. She had been pulled over once for a broken tail light and the officer had checked her identification in his vehicle before returning to her with a totally different attitude. It took one search, a clean record for Bailey, but the name flagged and then he was not such a nice guy. On top of her childhood, that had been the final straw for Bailey when it came to relying on law enforcement for anything. She would rather take care of business herself. “They're the last thing I need, too.” She mumbled, not caring if her words were overheard or not. Bailey did not talk about her own past, the ghosts she was running from. If people asked they got very vague answers and if they asked again they got a mouthful of abuse warning them to back the hell off. She didn't take kindly to prying or whispering and probably reacted a little more strongly than she ought to. One time two guys were just being slimy drunks, but Bailey took their looks and whispers as a sign they recognised her and almost screamed them new ears.

“Yeah, you shouldn't. But you are and I don't give a shit. There's no one going to come and toss you out the door. I'm the only one working today.” She'd have rather been catching up on the sleep she had been lacking, but over sleep she needed money more. If this guy needed to hang around and take a load off while she set up, then it wouldn't bother her. In fact there were times in her life when she wished people would have offered her the same chance. But they had places to be or Bailey had places to be and it seemed that the blonde Texan was going to have to remain in a perpetual state of broke and exhausted. It wasn't an excuse though, not in her eyes. Which was why she came in when asked, did all the cleaning that the staff the night before ought to have done, and risk throwing her back out while ensuring everything was set up for the night ahead. She didn't cut herself a break, not even in the way she was wiping the table or cleaning out the back of the bar.

Bailey listened to him and then tilted her head to one side, offering a small shoulder shrug in the process. “If you want vulgar names, I can call you vulgar names.” She offered, a glimpse of her desert dry wit breaking through. He was right though. She didn't have to do any of those things, but she also knew how it felt to be kicked out and shunned everywhere you went. It wasn't pleasant and it wasn't something she'd wish on her worst enemy. “But...I get it. I do.” There was a little town in Texas where Bailey could be on fire and no one would think about extinguishing the flames. Those few words were about as close as she ever got to talking about her own past and horror story. She might look fine, be in school and fit in with the rest of how society demanded a person look, but the young woman had been through enough to make a shrink very rich. There were many roads to hell and Bailey had just been dragged along on some other woman's ride. Now she was the one living with the consequences while her mom paid for hers.

When he vanished back into the bathroom, Bailey shook her head but said nothing. Instead she drank a little more water and then grabbed the broom to sweep out from behind the bar. Bottle caps collected there each night, along with all sorts of other debris that came with the joys of working a bar. It was work she knew well, having the place swept out and then quickly mopped down a few seconds later. There wasn't a lot of area to cover so it was a shorter job than most. It was the refilling of the fridges that would take the time, but there was plenty to waste before then. When her guest reappeared, this time asking for a name, Bailey took a moment before answering. She used middle names when she was around people who might recognise her own, but she didn't think there was a need for the caution this time. “Bailey. And you?” Quid pro quo and all that.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 801!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

"Why do you work alone?" He asked curiously. Most bars owners didn't like for anyone, let alone women to work alone just based on sheer statistics in this city alone. They talked for a moment only to have her return the name inquiry. Typically he told people he was called Swift as that's what the streets knew him as, hell even the cops knew him as Swift and some of them used it. Despite his typical strung out state he could be pretty quick to run if he felt you were out to get him arrested or were out to arrest him. After a long pause muddled with contemplation he smiled weakly "Valor" He said looking at her, watching for the reaction that was typical of most people "My name is Valor." He snorted, he hated having to explain that his legal name was indeed Valor Rogue Kingston. Having to explain you came from a set of hippie parents who didn't care too much and were too busy fighting the man to make sure their kid wasn't using drugs.  "I like Bailey better though, it's proper." He laughed and shook his head sighing quietly as he nodded out. The drugs took over and suppressed his system and caused him this wretched drowsy like state that took all his pain and bad feelings away. His eyes would droop close, only to open again moments later as if abruptly woken up. Valor shook his head and tried to pull himself together. "Other than work..well, here what do you do? I mean, your life can't revolve around this hell hole can it?" Valor laughed, he wasn't particularly interested he just didn't want to be here and not at least try to keep her company. His body temp had jumped and it was kind of obvious as he started to sweat again. "and don't seem like the run from the cops type." Valor noted quietly, part of him wanted to offer what was in his pocket see if she'd partake but the way his mind worked, he'd rather let her suffer than share his drugs. Well, maybe he'd let her use if she was really suffering but mostly he wouldn't. He did not for once thing his life style was cool, despite the fact he offered glorification whenever possible. He knew what he called a lifestyle was a tragedy fit for film. He scratched at the injection site, which burned like the blazing pits of Hell. Some of his narcotic had leaked from the vein and under the skin where it bubbled just enough to look like an insect bite. He pushed his shirt over it, rubbing the fabric against it. He'd forgotten about the water glass, which was now sweating away on the counter, until his eyes caught sight of it again. He pressed his palm against it, it was cool to the touch while his palm was hot so, it was quite refreshing. He ran his palm, now wet from the condensation on the water glass, through his hair.  It'd been some time since he had company for this long and he wasn't quite sure what to say, it was just nice not to be thrown out of the place for opening his mouth. As he sat there contemplating on what stupid thing he'd say next he wondered about Bailey, something struck him about her, that she was different but he couldn't quite place it. 


In retrospect he shouldn't have followed the thought of what made him curious about her because it led him down a dirty road in thinking about his past and how he ended up where he was now. There was a sharp pain in the right side of his abdominal cavity and with a cringe he grabbed at it holding it and hissing through gritted teeth. The pain was intense and sudden and coming from his liver. It was pain like this that made him want to gut himself. Of course, anyone that knew him, or of him, knew he carried hepatitis c from a decade's worth of dirty needles. The pain stopped almost as quickly as it came on, but reared it's head again moments later as if to say 'hey, stop that shit.' It had passed once more, for the final time, it was then that he felt safe enough to let go of his side. What he really needed was a doctor who would look at him, treat his hepatitis c and treat him like a human, without throwing him out. There were plenty of needle exchanges around here that could supply him with new needles in exchange for the old and usually a dollar so he wouldn't have to suffer the consequences of dirty needles but he lived on the other side of town in a rubbish, burnt out building. He didn't always feel like walking across town for a clean needle when he could have his drugs right then and there with one of the plenty dirty, dull needles. Most of his needles were so old the numbers were worn off them. It didn't matter though, the numbers weren't important but the dull needles were the problem it often took quite a while to puncture skin and when he did he faced the danger of it breaking.

Valor wasn't the cleanest person to be sitting at the bar and, he did his best not to touch the counter top as Bailey had only just cleaned it. He raised the water glass to his lips and sipped it slowly. He knew she'd probably just refill it if he finished it, but he felt the need to cherish this one, just in case. 

Words:  950
Lyrics: Night Alone - Mest
Notes: Oh sweet Valor....-sigh-

[Deleted]

Bailey shrugged for a second and then let out a soft sigh. “The guy who is supposed to be here is sick and I'm the only other one with keys.” Plus she preferred working alone. Whenever she came in early to assist with the set up of the bar there was always small talk and questions that Bailey didn't want to answer. It seemed as though the longer people knew her for the more they realised just how vague and secretive Bailey could be. Then they seemed to think they had every right to try and pry open her shell and see all the gory details that she kept inside there. Some days Bailey wanted to shout the truth at them, screaming repulsively about everything in her life and the horrors she had lived through. There was no sense in that though, so she kept silent, just warning people to back the hell off when things started sounding more like a police interrogation. Listening to his name, Bailey nodded for no reason in particular. “It's memorable. No one can have a reason to forget you.” Although she could list half a dozen reasons why people liked to be forgotten. She herself loved being able to vanish in a crowd and have no one stare at her when she walked down the sidewalk. Her turn to scoff, Bailey rolled her eyes. “You like it so much then you can have it.” If there wasn't so much paperwork and hassle to deal with she'd have taken the legal steps to officially changing her name from Bailey Blake Delphi Eden. It was too well known in connection with her mother and several media reports had taken to citing Bailey's full name as though they never wanted her to be able to escape her mother's crime.

To forget the memories flooding back for a second, Bailey wiped down the back of the bar where the bottles rested and where everything seemed to be perpetually sticky from the amount of alcohol that they managed to spill in a night. It was a fruitless effort, since some marks needed a serious scrub with hot soapy water and Bailey wasn't about to do that. Glancing back over at Valor, she tossed the cloth back on the shelf and folded her arms. “For the most part it does.” She said simply, knowing that she clocked more hours here than any student ought to while balancing a job and studies. For the past couple of years Bailey had been running on barely a few hours sleep and even they usually took place hunched over a textbook or her laptop. “The other part is an engineering student.” She said with a simple shrug. There was a little more to her life that included chasing down one-time job offers and avoiding her landlord while deciding what bills to chip away at. She just didn't think Valor needed to know about all of that. “That's because I do my best to avoid them, forget outrunning them.” She said, moving hair from her eyes again. Bailey felt anxiety rising from deep inside her whenever she saw cops. Her stomach knotted and she felt like she was going to be sick, even feeling the tightening of her throat as the panic and nausea overwhelmed her. She didn't ever want to find out how she'd react if they actually needed to speak with her again. The first ordeal when she was a child were enough to last her a lifetime.

She had done a good job to keep her nose clean. Everyone expected her to turn out just like her mother and rebel at every possible chance. Bailey respected herself, her father and even her step-mom too much to let that happen. Still, people never seemed to want to cut her a break. Even when she made good grades and stayed completely out of their way there would always be a comment, remark or glare spared just for her. It seemed to be that Leona couldn't distinguish between the killer and the daughter. It was one of the reasons why Bailey had thrown out all photographs of her mother a long time ago. She didn't like seeing the similarities between herself and the woman that were captured in photographs and had the chance to stand the test of time. Bailey had no reason to be treated like dirt, but the last ten years she had felt like nothing more than a piece of crap on everybody else's shoes. It was why she had broken free from that Texas town at the first chance, heading for a city where she could vanish and no one would know her name. During her time in New York a few people had called her out on it, but they were the minority and mainly Criminology or Law buffs who were working on pieces relating to female murders or women on death row. They were familiar with the story and the name rang a bell. Bailey just made sure to avoid them after an initial realisation, declining calls until they got the hint.

It was the hiss that got her attention and her eyebrows furrowed together as she realised Valor was looking in considerable pain. She was a far cry from a doctor and Bailey was in tip-top health herself, aside from some mild exhaustion and stress. She kept her eyes fixed on him, waiting for the moment to pass. Pain like that could really be anything, from something minor and typical to something much serious. She didn't want to rush to conclusions or act like she knew the best course of action because she didn't. Valor seemed to go back to the water glass like nothing had even happened, which cause Bailey to raise her eyebrow and ask the question that had been spinning around her mind for the last few minutes. “You okay?”

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 999!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

Okay? What was okay? What classified okay? The pain shot up his side again and he held back a grumpy growl. So was he okay? No, not by a long shot. A chronic infection was infesting his liver and the aches and pains were part of it. "Yeah, I'm okay." He lied. What was he to do? Tell her he wasn't okay and then have a talk about how maybe he should get looked at or maybe he should do this or that or she might even be a rare humanoid that asked if he wanted help. He'd turn that down too though, there wasn't much you could do except let it go. His joints ached and his eyelids grew heavy. He could sit here, nod off an lie to Bailey and insist he was okay or he could tell her the truth and probably be thrown off the premises or at least not bothered with any more. He wasn't aiming for sympathy, that was the last thing on his mind, and he certainly wasn't looking for trouble. He just wanted some down time, off the street and away from people.

The abrupt, sharp pain jolted his eyes open again and he looked Bailey in the eyes and shook his head. "Who'm I kiddin'? I'm far from okay." Valor looked away from her, why'd he tell her he wasn't okay? He shook his head at himself and sighed "No matter though, just a bit of pain. Nothing I can't handle." Valor was now not only lying to Bailey but to himself but, there wasn't a thing that could be done for him to stop this pain.  Valor full heartedly believed he didn't deserve the help that was offered, when it was offered, so he always declined any kind of help even it was as simple as a help off the ground. He didn't budge from the stool, knowing fully that moving his torso would only strengthen the pain. He started to move his water glass toward him for a drink. He gripped it tight but the condensation on the glass caused the grip to be almost worthless as it slipped from his hand and hit the edge of the bar top. The glass shattered, water poured down his shirt, pants and soaked the floor beneath him. Reaction time in Valor was slow but had been just quick enough to catch large shards that buried into his hand. He hadn't noticed at first until he laid his hand on the bar top and a throbbing took up in his hand.  "Damn it. Bailey, I'm sorry. Lemme clean this up." As blood started to bead up from the fresh wounds in his hand he got anxious. Blood dripped on the bar top lightly and began a light trickle as he removed the two bits of glass from his hand "Now really, do not touch it." He warned her and intended to stay on top of that warning. He watched her as he started to get off the stool and bend over to clean up all the broken glass. He figured his hand was already cut up that cleaning it up with bare hands was no problem.

He set each bloodied piece on the bar top as he picked them up, each one having even the smallest drip of blood on it. He wasn't going to let her risk this horrible virus by picking up after him. After he collected all the pieces of glass, from the largest ones to the smallest he could find, he gathered the pieces in his hands and sighed as he aimlessly looked for the dust bin. "Uhm..Where can I..toss these out? Is there a dumpster round back?" He wasn't taking chances, blood is where highest concentrations of the hepatitis c virus, or rather almost any virus, are found and as a consequence only a small trace of blood may have sufficient virus present to cause infection. He wasn't going to have that on his mind, it was bad enough he'd shared enough needles to spread it to so many other users he wasn't passing it to Bailey. 

Words:  692
Lyrics: Night Alone - Mest
Notes: eep! sorry disappeared, have no fear tho I'm back and ready to play. Thought I'd plop in some interesting. Cheers. 

[Deleted]

Bailey had been lucky in the sense that she had been healthy for most of her life. The worst she ever had was a chest infection when she was thirteen and it had kept her off school for two weeks since it had been bad enough to disturb her sleep pattern and make her throw up most of the meals she managed to make it through. All of her problems were probably mental and psychiatrists might just have too much of a fun time delving into that mayhem. The school therapist had tried after her mom had been carted off to jail, but Bailey had put up a fight. At the time there was too much happening for her to take an hour of every other day to sit down and talk about her feelings with some stranger who probably only pretended to care since it was her damn job to. She was a stubborn mess even back then. Ten years had just mutated that into something far worse and possibly even self-destructive. She watched Valor with slight disbelief. He wasn't okay, no matter what he said. “A bit of pain? I've had people break ankles in here and not look as bad as you right now.” She was blunt, but truthful. Bailey didn't play around; she never had the time for it.

When the glass smashed, Bailey instantly moved to grab the dustpan and brush. It wasn't the first or last glass to get smashed in a bar and in Bailey's world it was a pretty regular occurrence. She was about to brush his offer off; she could clean it up herself and it was hardly a big deal. It was his serious tone and the second instruction that stopped her and kept her hovering. She spied the blood and sighed, putting the brush and pan on the bartop and moving through to the back of the bar to grab a first aid kit. Bailey couldn't leave him to bleed all over the bar and he was only going to make matters worse “Jesus, use the freaking pan! And the brush!” She shouted when she saw Valor picking up the glass with his bare hands. He was making it worse for himself and she wasn't going to stand around and watch him cut his hands on the broken glass even more.

She shot him a dark look for being ridiculous enough to just pick up the shards of glass with his hands. She maintained the slight glare as she grabbed the glass bin from underneath the bar and brought it out for him to toss the fragments into. “Now sit down, keep still and let me fix you up.” She commanded, popping open the first aid box and grabbing a sterile pair of latex gloves from the jumbled contents. Snapping them over her wrists, she fished about in the box for some bandages and anti-sceptic wipes. Her first aid course last month was hardly needed for this, since she had fixed herself up over the years when she had ripped her skin on things. However, she followed the ridiculous rules that course had set in place and then plopped herself down on the stool nearest Valor. “You're not fine.” She stated firmly as she set the items down on the top of the bar. She didn't know what was going on in Valor's life and Bailey wasn't one to pry either, but she also had a kind heart that did show on the rare occasion. She wasn't all about the defensive mask she wore to stop people getting close, or the workaholic attitude she needed to stay alive in the city. Sometimes she just cared. “You're staying here. At least for a bit longer. I'm not about to let you head back out like this for you to black out in some alleyway.” She wasn't one for making friends, but she also knew what it was like to be ignored and looked down upon when all that was needed was one kind gesture.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 684!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

"Nooo don't- " There wasn't an argument left, she had gloves and was fixing the stupid mess he got himself in. His fidgeting with the shards had only bought him more blood loss, his constricted pupils scanning his hands, the glass as it was dumped to the bin and back to his hands as her latex gloved hands commanded their attention. He watched, listened but she was right moving wasn't an option. The blood loss wasn't a huge ordeal, he'd lost more blood in fights and while using but the fatigue combo'd with the drug use, the borderline dehydration, despite his fluid intake, cause dizziness and his vision to tunnel in. He shook his head, his hands trembled as she cleaned them up.  "Just be careful p-lease" He hissed as the cleaning up of his wounds stung, a lot. "All the, the blood..." His eyes remained open briefly while his vision blacked and when his head dropped his eyes shut. He could still hear her but his brain wasn't triggering response. He fell forward slightly and quickly jolted back to, shaking his head. 

Valor sat himself back up and looked at her. What the hell was happening? He was suffocating in confusion as his vision would black and come back and did so multiple times. His hands were freezing, numb even but he didn't think anything of it. His head was throbbing like a thunderstorm within the muscles of his forehead, which he chose to rest on the bar top as he brought his cold, numb hands to his malfunctioning orbitals "Oh man, Bailey I'm gonna pa-" His rasped voice faded off and what little colour drained from his face. As long as she didn't get him a paramedic, he'd be fine...probably. The paramedic would assume he OD'd and with the drugs in his pockets...it'd only get him jail time if they chose to help him. He's had paramedics refuse help which was pretty unethical and Valor assumed against the rules but he didn't blame them for not wanting to. After all, they'd save him from certain death only to have him right back there an hour or two later.

It took about three minutes for him to regain consciousness and lift his head from the bar top. The reaction of catching the falling glass had clearly failed as the glass had shattered but that didn't stop the reactionary reach that sent him into panic over blood spill. How do you tell someone 'oh hey don't touch this cause I'm sick and you don't deserve this virus'? You could just spit it out but then panic would probably ensue. He had to tell her, right? "Bailey..look, look at me." He locked his eyes with hers. "I want you to be -" he put a hand on his head and his eyes drooped shut while he conjured the words. After a moment his eyes met hers again "careful cause I got HCV and you don't want none of that." Later in life, if the drugs didn't kill him the HCV would destroy his liver and he'd die slowly and painfully. He planned to let the drugs be his end all and his death be a quick, painless overdose. He hoped he wouldn't be alone when he went but he knew it'd probably be the case. Images of his dead self plagued his mind which wouldn't erase. He swallowed hard as he dizzily looked from his hands to Bailey. "I'm sorry, I'm always trouble." He told her with this awful loneliness eating away at what was left of his soul. Valor could tell she cared at least a little with her forceful way of telling him to stay here, which at the moment he was grateful for because he was pretty sure standing would drop him to the floor faster than a brick.

Words: 643
Lyrics: Night Alone - Mest
Notes:

[Deleted]

Bailey had no idea what was happening right now, but she wasn't about to let someone continue to bleed all over the bar she was supposed to be setting up for the day. “Don't worry about me.” She said, cutting him off each time he tried to protest. Right now Bailey was just thinking about getting him cleaned up and it didn't seem like such a big deal to her. However it was difficult to clean him up when he was shaking and lolling forward. Bailey couldn't hold him still and tend to his bloody hands at the same time. He didn't look at all like he was in a good shape and now he just looked awful, but Bailey still wasn't about to toss him out of the empty bar. She put on her cold demeanour so that people would keep a reasonable distance away from her and her troubles. It was a defensive mechanism to try to avoid the harsh comments and truths that her past self had been unable to run away from. In reality, especially when she looked at Valor, she saw the girl she could have wound up being because of those insensitive people. It wasn't fun to think about and she didn't want to treat him the same way she had been treated back home.

When Valor passed out Bailey froze. She might have taken a first aid course to earn a minor pay rise, but she was still no expert. She was used to cleaning scrapes and dealing with bumps rather than someone falling unconscious on her bartop. “Valor? Hey, come on now.” She shook his arm gently and then more aggressively, doing her best not to get the blood back on him from her gloves. Bailey took a moment to think things through while she double checked to make sure he was still breathing. He hadn't looked so good to begin with and maybe the blood was the last straw. At least that was what she was thinking while she moved to get him another glass of water for when he did come to. She did think about dialling 911, but what would be the point if he came around in a few seconds? She eyed the clock, taking note of the time and deciding that if she could rouse him by the time the hour hit in ten minutes then she would reach for the phone and call for help. The whole time she stayed by his side, making sure nothing else happened to him while he was sitting there and to make sure he didn't fall off the stool.

When she spied the movement from him Bailey let out a sigh of relief. “Glad to see you're back with me.” She commented, picking his hand back up to wrap with the bandages she had already removed from the first aid kit. She listened to him and nodded slowly. She knew the risks and she knew that she had to be careful. Luckily it was something previously instilled in her by her father and especially after everything that had happened with her mother. “Thanks for telling me.” She forced herself to stay calm, knowing that the latex gloves should be enough to keep any blood from making contact with her own body. She had to admire his honesty; a trait Bailey herself had tossed to the curb a long time ago. She fastened the dressings on his hands and then moved to clean up the small mess she had made. Smirking softly as she snapped the gloves from her wrists and carefully disposed of them, Bailey turned to face Valor as she washed her hands in the small sink behind the bar. “I come from worse trouble than you.” She told him confidently. Her past was a horror story, her present not much better despite what appearances might suggest. Turning the water off and drying her hands on the dishcloth back there, Bailey moved around to her stool again and pushed the water glass back towards Valor. “Try not to smash this one.” She said lightly to show him that she wasn't mad. It was a bar after all and smashed glasses happened. “How are you feeling now?”

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 721!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3

[Deleted]

When he'd come around he'd looked at the girl who'd cleaned up his mess and put up with his nodding off this whole time "I'm sorry..." He mustered and tried to force himself up off the stool. In standing up, he got dizzy and fell back onto the stool. There was no moving, not until he regained his strength and wasn't bound to pass out. She'd given him another glass, he looked at her in confusion. She wasn't mad? He grew skeptical but he slowly started to ramble on, tired voice resting at a hardly audible level. "The hep c shouldn't affect you, unless you got wounds or something for the blood to get into. Should be fine but probably have a test done anyway to be cautious, okay?" Despite the groggy tone he was genuinely concerned. He didn't want to pass this along, he didn't want people to touch him because of it. He felt gross, like an untouchable. Valor eyed Bailey, concern apparent. Biting his lip, he looked away with a sigh.

"I dunno your past, but I can take your word for it" Valor said when Bailey mentioned she came from worse than he, He wasn't gonna get into a pissing contest with who's past was worse because all that mattered was where they were now. "I dunno what you seen, but I seen shit, I should be dead." He wasn't joking, in all seriousness he should have been dead. "It's been...fourteen years; fourteen long years and I don't remember more than half of it." He usually seen it as a blessing honestly. He was glad a large portion of those memories were gone. The water glass remained untouched, his hand hurt and both were trembling in shock. His hands were cold but that was probably from the blood loss.

His eyes drooped and he nodded off, his mind created pictures of the past in his head. C'mon Swift, hurry up, I'm sick as a damn dog. The voice rang in his head, echoing as the memory of him passing a used needle down a line of junkies against a brick wall. He gasped as he sat up in panic, starting to sweat and look around him. He was in the bar, Bailey was still here, he sighed and rubbed his temples. "You know when most people find out things like having hepatitis c, they're worried or panicked. I wasn't. I was relieved, hoping it meant I wouldn't have to keep going, I could finally lay down and die. I didn't want to make it to twenty-one and twenty-seven? I laughed at it and said there wasn't anyway I'd be alive that long..." The more Valor thought, the more of his past resurfaced, the more he spoke. He wasn't speaking directly to Bailey necessarily, he was just allowing the thoughts to process and allowing them to be spoken which was something he didn't do often. Mostly they remained buried or silent as he didn't have anyone to listen except Barbossa and he was an old dog who Valor was pretty sure was losing his hearing.


"I don't even know how I've gotten this far in years." Valor didn't make eye contact the entire time he thought about it, he couldn't. The shame was unbearable and the pain was overwhelming. "I don't even know where my parents are, if they're alive, okay, or anything. I haven't seen or spoken to them in eleven years. Sometimes I think about them, how they might be doing and it usually plays out where they're better off without me." He shook his head, he wasn't trying to be depressing or self-loathing and he surely didn't want a pity party. He was just talking and hoping his words were falling on deaf ears. "I can't say I really want to know the truth though. I just picture them better off in my head so I don't feel guilty but I always feel guilty for leaving 'em." Valor rested his head in his good hand, slumping against the bar top and watching his water glass condensate. Was this really what this was coming to? The only person to show a care in years and he almost immediately starts rambling on about bullshit from his past, about his addiction, his problems, so he could push her away without pushing? He didn't want her to go away, or rather, to throw him out. He did it out of reflex because he was tired of making a 'friend' and having them walk away when they pieced him together. A junkie, a homeless junk fiend, he didn't need friends, he wasn't worth their time.

Words: 777
Lyrics: Night Alone - Mest
Notes: <3

[Deleted]

She couldn't find it in herself to be mad at Valor. Which was pretty odd considering that Bailey usually found every reason to be angry at something or another. It was a coping mechanism of hers and while it might not have been the healthiest it was something that worked for her and what she wanted to achieve. Plus, he had been honest at the right moment when he had to be, which was something Bailey had long since forgotten about. Honesty was a trait that didn't work so well for her and ever since moving to New York it was something she chose to avoid like it was the bubonic plague. “Don't worry about me.” She told him again, making sure he was steady on the stool. The last thing she wanted was for him to fall and crack his head on something. That would be something a little more serious than broken glass and Bailey was still hoping for a relatively easy day at the bar.

Valor spoke and Bailey gave him the time to talk. She listened, kept her distance and bit her tongue whenever she wanted to interrupt him. It wasn't exactly common for people to share their tales with her. She was the girl who had more secrets than most now, who had come from a town where her entire life had been on display for everyone to comment and judge on. Bailey had been the town pariah without even having to do anything, but people liked to keep something around to blame and Bailey was the circle who fitted into the hole. With the attitude she pushed off now, most people barely wanted to stick around Bailey long enough for her to learn their name. She was bitter, cold and frequently snapped just so people would stay away from her. Her past had damaged her, Bailey thought beyond repair, and because of that she wanted to be left alone to just get on with her life. People had a habit of asking unwanted questions and she didn't have the patience or the truths to stick around when that started to happen. Valor, in this moment, just seemed to want to keep talking, so she let him. Bailey just moved around quietly to clean up the mess and put things away again.

At the mention of his parents Bailey froze up. That was pretty much the whole reason why she was the way she was. If her mother had been calmer, in more control then maybe Bailey's life would have been entirely different. She had thought about it time and time again when she had been younger, but ever since she was eighteen she had kicked the thought to the gutter. There wasn't a whole lot she could do about it. She was who she was and her mother had been who she was. It was pointless thinking about it and a waste of time that Bailey could have spent working or finding something to do that would be more productive for her future. “We can't change the things that have already been done.” She said quietly, shrugging when she figured Valor was completely finished. Bailey didn't know what he wanted to hear, if anything. With the bar pretty much ready for customers now, Bailey just had to kill the time until the doors were due to open for the day. “It sucks, but it's the truth.” Her words were firm and she avoided eye contact with him for a little longer. Bailey found that whenever she even vaguely mentioned something she knew personally from her own experiences she struggled to keep eye contact. It was why it was so much easier to just push people out before they were even in.

• • •

TAGGED! Open!
WORDS! 679!
OUTFIT! Bitter Blonde!
LYRICS! Dandelion - - - Kacey Musgraves
NOTES! <3