gentlemenpreferblondes: (Or help you at the automat)
J. M. Austen ([personal profile] gentlemenpreferblondes) wrote in [community profile] thisavrou_log2016-04-16 03:12 am

(OPEN) - Beneath the make up and behind the smile I'm just a girl

Who: J and everyone else!
When: Backdated from 1st of April to 13th. Before the trials + event log because i can
Where: J's makeup studio + bar !
What: Catch all log for this month
Warnings: Some out-dated slurs? Closed thread with Sans contains talk about the past sexual abuse and death. Will update if/when needed!



Make up

At first, way back on the January, J had only eye rolled at the job that the captains had assigned to her. Sure, go ahead and give the nelly a makeup studio, of course she'll know what to do. But it hadn't taken long from her to see the bright sides of the job. Really, having a roomful of beauty products had pretty sweet perks. The equipment they had first given to her hadn't been too great, but thanks to their stops at Eris and Emiri, she has been able to gather and add more products and items to it. Plus, she was rather lucky not to have that many customers, so her working hours were very flexible, making it possible for her to come and go just as she pleased-- which suited her better than well.

However, despite being more interested in playing hooky than keeping the shop open for potential customers, it's not too rare to find J loitering around her workshop. After all, it was perfect place for her to go and hide whenever she needed some privacy (somewhat a rarity nowadays that she has to share her bedroom with three other people). And it was good to at least let the captains think that she's doing her job.

The door's always closed but one can always tell whether she's in or not from the jazz music, more specifically: music by Marilyn Monroe -- her often singing along with it, that keeps playing whenever she's present. If someone were to open the door, they'd find J either laying on the couch while reading different kind of magazines that she's collected from the library, or then fixing her own make up.


BAR

While J loves her little 'beauty salon', and wouldn't want to trade it for anything, there was no denying that she was in her true element when working at the bar. She had been only little over 14 years old when she had gotten her first job at the shady, local pub near her school, where she had used to sneak in secret from the teachers and rest of the school staff. The only downside to this job was that it's not nearly as easy just to ditch the work now that she has a co-worker, who's more than strict when it comes to showing up to shifts.

Oh well. Good thing that she loves this job and while she's not exactly the best bartender around, as it's her first time working on this side of the counter, but at least she has some kind of clue what to do. Although, that still doesn't mean that J takes this job too seriously either. As she can most of time be found poking her MID, playing certain romance game in it, not caring whether it was a busy night or not.

She's also rather lenient about giving alcohol to people who haven't reached the legal drinking age because hey. She started using alcohol at age of 14 and she's not one to deny it from other kids.

WILDCARD!:

create your own adventures!

[prose and action tags are both welcomed!]
skelepun: ([sans] 69)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-26 12:06 am (UTC)(link)
That's the joke. [He winks, stretching out his arms over his head. His smile holds steady -- as if his jaw would let him do anything else -- but it's quieter than usual.] And I could always eat. It's you I'm worried about.

C'mon. [He decides for them both, nodding for her to follow.] I know a shortcut to the mess storeroom. Y'know, where Loki keeps all the good shit.

Wanna come?
skelepun: (im tired)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-26 01:27 am (UTC)(link)
[Upon taking her first step in his direction, J would feel the sensation of falling -- not off a cliff, no, but that peculiar sensation when one overestimates how many steps there are at the top of the stair. When her foot does hit solid ground again, their surroundings are replaced by the shelf lined walls of the mess pantry.

Sans, for his part, is already elbow deep in one of the bins.]


Here. [He hands her a chunk of something dark and heavy.] That's bitter chocolate. It'll settle your nerves.
skelepun: ([sans] 69)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-27 05:11 am (UTC)(link)
I'm already fat. [Sans explains simply, taking another chunk of chocolate for himself before settling beside her.] I chalk-a-lot of it up to living well.

[He winks, giving her a quiet nudge. Silence reigns after from him, quietly nibbling his chocolate and staring thoughtfully at nothing at all.

It's a few moments before he speaks again, voice casual. As if he's addressing something that happened to someone else entirely.]


So what happened up there?
skelepun: (2450096 (2))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-28 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
Oh yeah? I get those sometimes. [Sans tears off another hunk of his own chocolate. Where it goes is anyone's guess, but smart money's on somewhere down his uniform pant leg. His tone remains casual, despite all odds.] What're yours about?
skelepun: (2470718 (2))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-28 07:33 am (UTC)(link)
[Evasion isn't that hard to spot when you use it daily yourself, but something about this line of questioning makes Sans wonder if it's leading somewhere.

Regardless, J will give answers when she wants to and not a second earlier -- of that, Sans is certain. Playing along is the least he can do.]


We probably came from somewhere, but wherever it was stopped being a thing a long time ago. It's always been just me and Pap, for as long as I can remember.
skelepun: (pic#10074933)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-28 08:55 am (UTC)(link)
[She's trying. It earns her a smile at the very least, though those aren't exactly rare when it comes to him.]

Probably has more to do with humans not liking us very much. [Sans explains, keeping his tone light despite the subject matter.] Being different's a bitch, huh?

[It doesn't take a genius to guess that J might be able to relate.]
skelepun: (2450096 (13))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-04-30 12:40 am (UTC)(link)
Don't I know it. [Sans manages, vaguely, eye lights dimming at the memory. He wishes he had more chocolate, too. Or a drink.

But the moment is fleeting, replaced by something much warmer. Dwelling on what can't be undone isn't why Sans brought J here. At least, not directly.]


How about you, you got family?
skelepun: (2470718 (2))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-05-01 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[There's no outward reaction from Sans outside a nod, processing that information against all he already knows about J. It doesn't fill in the whole puzzle, not by a long shot, but a few gaps are starting to fill in.

If there's one thing monsters love, after all, it's a puzzle.]


You close with her?

[Her lack of knowledge on her mom's whereabouts said no, but Sans was never one to assume. People had all sorts of reasons for keeping their distance.]
skelepun: (worried)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-05-02 09:10 am (UTC)(link)
[For how placid he was before receiving the news, this does come as a surprise and it shows. Humans had an unmatched capacity for cruelty, Sans knew this to be true from experience, but still...

It's something he could rationalize away by the inherent differences between them. Humans hated monsters, or at least found them to be entertaining fodder for murder. No one would miss them, in humanity's eye, especially not when there were none of them left. He could see the root of that kind of violence, even if it made his bones rattle.

This? Killing your own family? The person you loved and married, and terrorizing your child in the process? It's not something Sans can understand. It goes against everything his people are made up of, on the SOUL level.]


Shit... [His voice comes out gravelly and thin, until he swallows again.] Sorry. I can't even imagine that.
skelepun: (2470718 (2))

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-05-02 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)
Bullshit.

[Sans answers as soon as the words leave her mouth, not unkind but flat with disbelief. There were plenty of subjects in the world where complexity and nuance could paint a situation in any number of shades of gray.

This wasn't one of them.]


What could you have possibly done?
skelepun: ([sans] 72)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-05-02 01:13 pm (UTC)(link)
[Let him is all she has to say. The rest filters in slower, like sound through cotton.

Let him. There it is again, as if underlined in red ink. Two little words that flew in the face of everything that came after. How old could she have been then? She was practically a baby now, a little younger than Papyrus, and somehow even thinking about his brother in tandem with any of this is enough to set Sans' face like stone and douse his eyelights completely.

It's a frightening look on the man, though it's not J that needed to be scared.]


I see.
Edited 2016-05-02 13:15 (UTC)
skelepun: ([sans] 82)

[personal profile] skelepun 2016-05-02 01:39 pm (UTC)(link)
Hey, J, can I ask you something?

[The question comes after a long period of stony silence, made longer by how Sans empty sockets appear to stare both everywhere and nowhere. They were still empty now, the direction of his skull the only thing giving any indication where he was looking.

Right now, his skull was turned towards the far side of the pantry.]

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