fire|STARTER, tag;; kira > zoe || open, as well.

[Mahri Hawthorne]

Counting the numbers of butterfly, star, and lightning bolted cheaply beaded bracelets gliding between her fingers, she sighed. She remembered cheap stuff like this. She'd buy it and it'd break, and that was that.

Whine, cry, get a new one two weeks later. Like the beeping Tamogotchi on her It's some pretty cool shit getting a Rainbow Brite watch from an eleven year old. She smiled and stared a bit at the red thing on her small wrist, laughing a bit at it. It was as cheap as the bracelets, but she loved it. At the moment, she was counting the moments it'd take for the chocolate cupakes she'd just put in the oven to go over, seeing as at this time of night only the bar was open.

She loved the graveyard shift, it was so fucking easy.

There really wasn't much to do when you don't have many tables to bus. And usually, they just seemed to be the ones outside. The bar didn't honestly, well, you know - serve food, but you still had to wipe off the counter. She remebered when she played bartender for an hour when they were on break.

And how much she'd gotten yelled at. ... Customers weren't complaining though, the girl knew her stuff. It wasn't like she was giving them Cuervo when they wanted Vodka on the rocks or something.

Smiling a bit, she rose and opened the oven with her hand, burning it slightly at the noise of the kitchen's swing doors opening.

"Fuck!"

[Zoë Varjak]

"Smooth Mahr, real smooth. Stick your bleeding head in it next, why don'tcha?" The heavy british accent echoed in as a pair of combat boots thudded against the immaculate tile floor of the kitchen. The girl who wore them had a pair of old black pants, stained in any number of places, tucked into the tops, her tight black teeshirt had the faded logo of The Sisters of Mercy across the front, and her red hair was held back in a baseball cap with a superman logo on the front.

Zoe pulled her cigarette out of her mouth and yawned, putting it back as soon as she was done. She needed the elegant whisps of nicotine to slide along her tongue and into her lungs as she cooked, it was the only way she would ever get anything done. She stepped forward, pulling a first aid kit from the top of a shelf as she did so and swinging it bang onto the counter closest to Mahri. "Alright babe, hand out, let's see the damage."

[Mahri Hawthorne]

As if robotic, Mahri did so, blinked a few times, and then snatched her hand away. "'Eeeeey. I'm fine. Really. You just scared me for a moment." Grinning abit fromear to ear, she scratched the back of her head, and then took the dry dishtowel to quickly pull out the pan of cupcakes, and then set it on the stove - the flame turned off, of course!

"Besidesss. I'm tough as nails, V. Dun worry about it."

Damn right she was tough as nails. Then girl'd been shot in the hip when she was like, eight, and she could still walk around like nothing'd happened. Casting side glances at Zoe, she slightly rolled her eyes, and gave her her hand once again, slightly reluctant. KNowing her, she'd probrably cut off her hand just to see if there was anything wrong with it.

Zoe was her older sister from another mister. Or, maybe the same. No one could tell when he was o freaking far away.

"Where do you keep the confectioner's sugar?"