"Oh," Came Out Softly, Lips Pursing In A Sort Of Thoughtful Way. "is It A Kind Of Smash The Windows Out

She didn't pay much attention to the deaths around town; not in the same way that most would. Perks of not allowing anyone to truly get close to her, she'd suppose. Arie, or Hashtag rather, didn't have time to truly make friends with anyone. That only meant not only caring about people she'd never see again AND letting someone know the fucked up lifestyle she lived. The only evidence that she knew there might be some sort of wrong in her life was seeing just how damn boring the people of Anchorage were. Stepping into the flower shop wasn't a social call which in again might be a clue of her mindset. She wasn't looking for flowers to show mourning and grief, but rather looking for a type of flower she had happened upon in a flash of a dream and it left her brain with a certain itch or hankering --- but not to eat, no.

Her eyes scanned the selection before looking to the voice who spoke, giving a small sort of smile. Maybe a little shy? But Arie wasn't shy. No, Aretha Hatzi wasn't shy. She commanded attention and rubbed everyone wrong, if her missing person's case was any factor of her disappearance.

"Oh, don't worry about me," she replied with a haphazard shrug, "I'm not looking for those but rather, well, what are the chances you've got hyacinths? I'm not from around here, so I don't know if it makes any difference." Considering the flowers she was thinking of grew in much warmer climates; and in particular, possibly Greece. She hadn't done research before coming, not sure why, but having the sense that the flowers just might be HER favorite, if it hadn't been Aretha Hatzi's. @hercule-boisseau

Status: open @anchoragestarters

Where: the Flower Basket

Hercule hears the telltale sound of the bell at the door ringing, indicating that someone has entered the store. With the recent death, the flower shop had experienced more business than usual. Everyone in the town, it seemed, wanted to express their condolences for the death of Willow Amelia. The former dancer didn't mind the business, per se, but they did find it interesting that people seemed to band together when it came to death, even if they didn't know the person.

He hadn't been connected to the girl so he didn't feel the need to mourn, but his heart did go out to the family and friends of hers. They understood why people wanted to express sympathy and in a way, he found it endearing that people care enough to. He approaches the cashier station, taking in the array of flowers leftover from the past couple day's orders.

"I'm sorry to say that we're all out of lilies and orchids, we've had a large influx of orders recently. Haven't been able to keep them in stock, really. But, I can arrange a bouquet for you with any of the other flowers we have as of current." The two blossoms they listed were common when it came to grieving, lilies offering hope and orchids saying "I will always love you". Even though he hadn't worked at a flower shop for long, he had recently become keenly aware of the types of blooms used for funerals and mourning.

💐, 💘, ❣

💐 - What small things go a long way for your muse? What small favors can someone do to get on their good side?

Arie has never really had a genuine love romantically given her situation but if she could, she'd be drawn to someone who lingers even when she's being kind of mean and pushing everyone away. Someone who listens even when she doesn't know they're paying attention to her ramblings. Maybe someone who holds her (as touch is definitely a love language for her).

💘 - What traits personality-wise are attractive to your muse?

Let's be honest here. I can't tell you what personality she'd be attracted to other than it would be a surprise to her if she woke up one day and realized, "I'm attracted to / in love with this person." She'd think her type is the strong macho guy and end up being more drawn to the opposite, and even gender.

❣ - Are they secretive about their romantic relationships or do they not stop talking about it?

She's had flings that if weren't for work in some way, she kept secret. She has to. Anyone who is a mirroir knows you can't have personal relationships outside of whatever you were mirrored for.

❀ *◦ keke palmer. female. she/her. bisexual. ⇝ hey, isn’t that aretha hatzi( hashtag )? i think that the twenty-seven year old from meteora, greece works as a hacker for the order of the dead idol, but outside of that people describe them as late nights spent staring at the computer, hanging out in shady diners, no care for which version of themselves is seen next. i hear they are secretive & distant, but they are also known to be warm & lyrical. consider giving them a visit at their home in the seal harbor apartments and get to know why they’re called the black sheep.

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

FULL NAME: Arethra Mae Hatzi ALIAS | NICKNAMES: Hashtag (to those who know or come across her work), Arie, Aretha Daniels. BIRTHDAY | AGE: COMING SOON, 27. BIRTH LOCATION | CITIZENSHIP: Unknown, unknown. | Greek citizenship, in a way. CURRENT LOCATION: Anchorage, Alaska. SEXUALITY: Bisexual. SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English, Greek, Spanish, German, Chinese, Turkish and some other various languages. OCCUPATION | DEGREES: Hacker for the Dead Idol. | Broadcast Engineer for 107.5 BLACK DRAGON PEARL RADIO. | None. IQ | ETC: While not technically tested for IQ as a miroir, Hashtag is quick to learn technological things and thinks of her brain as a super computer. It's the reason she was able to become a hacker compared to any other skill sets -- and she believes the real Aretha must've been highly intelligent. PERSONALITY: She can be well spoken and almost lyrical -- but that's because in a way, she's speaking in code. While she might live in the world's shittiest apartment complex, she is warm despite how secretive she can be behind closed doors. If you ever need a meal, she'll cook you something, or invite you to her favorite dinky diner for a meal on her. Despite that, for every inch she gives someone, there's a few feet between the truth and reality. FAVORITE ANIMAL: Cats. All the cats. In fact, for the first time in Hashtag's existence, she finally has a cat.

𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Imagine opening your eyes, empty inside of emotion and memory. Now imagine being told you're someone, but you're really not. You're a mirrored image of someone who went missing -- you are them, on the surface. A clone of a life that would never be yours, or you. You're tested to find your skillset, settling on computers. In fact, it comes all too naturally to you when your fingers type. Your eyes can see the faults in codes most cannot and somewhere along the way, you create a super worm virus capable of bringing down governments IF SOMEONE REALLY WANTED YOU TO. So you keep that tucked away for a rainy day, going where you're told like the perfect technological solider they want you to be.

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Flash forward to now, stepping out of a car that dropped you outside of the shittiest set of apartments you've ever seen. There was an order to stay here, waiting in the shadows until your skillset comes in handy once more. Get a job, make friends, blend in with the masses. Yet you start to think you're crazy when you get flashes, however brief they are, of a life you know isn't yours; not aware that the life you've never lived is just around the corner. A meeting of chance, or a stroke of luck, but you've never been lucky. No, if anything you're screwed.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ⌿ 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

Arissa Hatzi -- TO BE PLOTTED. It's gonna be angsty, don't worry. Grab a thing of popcorn and gather around for the shitshow.

Those involved with the radio station -- whether they work together or deal with each other in passing, these people probably look to her for help as a broadcast engineer, or there's a caller who happened upon her on a smoke break and asked her a question or two while they were sneaking around.

Someone she butts heads with often -- Most people don't ask too many questions. They certainly don't put much thought into certain actions, but from day one, these two have fought each other on everything. Maybe they've actually thrown hands? Whatever it is, it's like fire and gasoline.

Someone she helps with computers -- Did you use your school computer to look up spicy subjects, and now have a nasty virus on it? Did you find a code that's suspicious? Do you not know what technology is? Whatever the case is, this person always hits her up for computer help and she's always down to answer the call.

Someone she talks conspiracies with -- How these two met, no one really knows, but whenever they're together, they're always hush hush whispering in the corner or in a booth. In a way, this is as truthful as she'll allow herself to be with someone even if it's battling the idea of a giant moth man fighting a yeti.

Someone who is aware, or sort of aware, they both are miroirs -- Maybe they trained together or maybe they met along the way on some mission or attack. Maybe they aren't aware and Hashtag has to break the news. Whatever the case, I need semi-best friends trauma bonding.

She preferred the comfort of hiding behind a computer for two reasons, one of which might be easier for a trained eye to pick up on; 1. when it was discovered she had a skillset and quickness of computers, the Dead Idols spoke less and less to her face to face. They didn't need to be so heavy handed with her as they would someone who'd be trained in hands on tactile training such as fighting or toxicology. 2. being awkward meant that it weeded out certain people. Could you tolerate awkwardness? Yeah? Slide in, buckle down, and wait out the ride in which the end meant Arie actually gave a shit about someone. She wasn't sure about Sera persay and how the other felt, but Arie? Arie cared for the the little family so much that even if she couldn't say it, she showed it. Her skills with Dusty's allowed her to keep the station tightly locked down and at the end of the day, she was more than happy to play with little Crash and keep him entertained while they worked. In fact, anyone at the station was. If she didn't know this was a mission she was waiting for, she'd almost be glad to stay here forever. A side effect of six months of silence on the Dead Idol's end but they knew that, didn't they? They had to know that. Wasn't that the reason their mirroirs could eventually blend in so well?

Arie neared closer, seeing the man struggle. A small frown graced her lips as she saw him struggling. If anything, it was care that told her Dustin needed sleep, not more coffee. "I'd say yes but I think Sera might kick my ass if I take you on a late night adventure that voids you from sleep. In again, why not?" You could call it machoism if you wanted but it was something else. A joke, maybe. She admired his dedication to the station but she also wanted to reassure him that it would still be standing when they'd get back. Closing the distance between them now, she took the coffee pot from him and put it back on the burner. Flicking the machine off, she turned back, "I think I can handle that. No fire, got it." At the mention of Crash's godmother, Arie gave a little laugh. "I think you should warn her, not me. I'm pretty sure Boyd has a crush." Boyd, some normally faceless what.... janitor? Mic man? Sometimes it depended on the day. "No fires and definitely no alarming godmom, I promise."

The night was still, tranquil save for the pattering against the sills of the station's windows, and the tower above the building echoing an eerie howl of the plaintive winds as if it were a woeful virago. Dustin had always been a diligent pupil, at the expense of his own health, and it persisted into the summertime without the diluting of coursework — instead, he was battened by the self-imposed concerns of the time the pair would be spending away in the first half of August before classes resumed. His head craned aside when he heard the shuffling of feet entering the break room, his alertness of his surroundings making up for the shortcomings of Sera's ever-dwindling hearing ( a facet of which, he still did fret. ) He smiled warmly at Aretha, partial instinct thereby overridden out of compassion for his employee. As awkward as she seemed, at times, the empath had kept a studious eye on her — sometimes, it felt like an armor he was forced to don. The frigidity of his thoughts, especially given the news of Willow's demise, had an engine purring with chariness for his surroundings. However, he'd had a fluttering in his chest from the moment he showed the woman the reason for the Graves-Seongs' paucity of promptness to her application. Anyone who was so privy to a recluse who melted at the sight of Tyche Jungsoo was staunch, in his book ( and yes, he did keep track, hyperthymesia recording it for him. )

"Rita," he'd coined his own nickname — partially on account of correcting a mishap of Sera becoming lost in translation at first meeting, "I can come with if you can drive." A joke hung in the void that he couldn't, failing to bloom as he fumbled to grip the handle of the coffee pot with dystonic fingers. His palm pressed firmly against it, thumb gripping the top of the handle, whilst his recoiled digits were in rigor mortis against his palm, tendons of his wrist visibly tensing as he kept it outstretched long enough to pour out the mug in his other palm. Carefully balanced on the partially ( but significantly less ) stiff fingers of his opposite hand, he held it out to the engineer. His amblyopic eye shook nervously as his strength dwindled, mustering enough to empty the pot into a second mug. "I thought I'll stay and record stuff, get a headstart for the next couple weeks... Cohosts can take the live stuff, just —" A yawn intercepted, blearily sticking his hand into a hole of his distressed Gengar sweater to rub against his shoulder blade. "Don't let anybody burn down the studio. Dios mio." Sheepish when he splashed the coffee over the mug a bit, hands obstinately refusing to cooperate in full, he turned to face her. "Think you can handle it, kid?" Pausing, the two-toned metalhead pouted his lip, myriad of piercings protruding, and nodded vaguely down the hill outside. A branch was thumping against the pane. "I'm, uh, gonna have Crash's godmother stay while we're out. So don't be alarmed."

She was, important to her, yes, but not in the sense that the other might realize. It was drilled into her head, more less violently, that she should avoid the past. It would help diminish any hope that those who loved her mirrored appearance and not just that, but any questions of memories that may or may not of been her own. "You are," Arie mumbled, eyes flickering to look anywhere else than the woman who looked at her as if she held the key for not world peace, but a peace of mind for the woman herself. WHY HAD THEY SENT HER HERE OF ALL PLACES? The only answer that registered in her mind was unfathomable. It only followed with another that seemed less but still concerning never the less. Destroy the part of her that wasn't her, or destroy the part that was. She was able to adapt easily; she could very well become Aretha Hatzi. Was that the goal? Or the opposite... Her head swam.

Her fingers itched to type. Her legs shook with the need to flee. "Before then... All I could remember was Arie," But Aretha, it seemed, came later. "Sometimes, I think, I saw you when I dreamt but I never knew what it meant." It came out choked and true, even if she only learned later on. This was her other half, whether she willingly stole it or not. "I'm sorry I didn't remember completely."

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck ! They were going to blame this on her if it weren't some fucked up way of telling her what she wouldn't admit. There wasn't some small possibility in the void of existence that told her this was a good thing, much less unplanned thing. "I'm not much of a joker these days," came in a serious voice, which is more or less of a lie. There were only some she was close to in a town like this, listed under her broadcast engineering job as Aretha ... something. Hatzi would've been too on the nose. It didn't matter. They weren't names she grew attached to much less cared for. Hashtag, although given by the Dead Idol, was her chosen nickname. In some ways, it was a safety blanket at the end of the day. She liked Rita though, given to her by her boss. Meow, by Ziggy, that sounded peculiarly like MOM. "You know my name." Her voice is soft. Distant almost. As if she's searching memories, no matter how pretensive it was. "You're ---... You're important to me, right?" Or rather were, once upon a time, as if she hadn't suddenly thought to pretend I DON'T REMEMBER YOU. What else could she do?

"Did we know each other before the Daniels adopted me?" Random name, but hey, she couldn't very well call herself Aretha Hatzi. Someone might notice and not keep the assumption that the woman wasn't missing or declared dead after being missing for so long. "Or the Scaredy Cat? It was probably the Scaredy Cat."

🖤 & 💌

💌 - How would they confess to their love interest? Would they wait on a confession?

Arie tends to be very forth coming in a few aspects. If she likes-likes someone, she tends to be forward about it in the sense of, "Wanna come to my place?" but in the same notion, she tends to keep people at an arms length and pushes people away when they get too close for her taste emotionally. She'd be the type to need the other to take her hand and pull her close, and really tell her they feel the same way. Depending on the situation, she might even blurt out something like, "You're so stupid, I love you."

🖤 - What's something that will instantly make them dismiss someone as a romantic partner

Despite the fact that she doesn't let people in and does terrible things computer wise, she's not entirely heartless. If the partner is mean to her, mean to someone she cares for, hurts animals or children, is a terrible person all around, etc, that's the quickest way for Arie to slam the door on their face and maybe burn everything they own. She has SOME morals after all.

It's always a debate in her mind; just how much would she give the residents of any place she settles, even just for a day or a few months, the truth of herself. In this moment, however, it was a side of truth. No, she wouldn't rat the woman out. In fact, she found a sort of adrenaline in the woman's action. "I haven't decided yet actually. There's a pretty sick green and blue one I've had my eye on for a while but I'm also thinking three shades of purple that just came in. In again, I'll probably end up getting them both." She was, after all, a sucker for wigs. In fact, reds were typically used AS Hashtag. A mask on top of the mask safely tucked away in a place no one would find. "I think fun and shiny but I'm not above a full face of makeup. Oh here, look." she says, pulling out her phone to look up the wigs she had been looking at.

Frozen in place while the other looked over the display, brown eyes wide as Ava waited for some indication of whether or not Arie would sell her out for what she'd seen, the hairdresser realized that she vaguely recognized the woman as one of her neighbors. They'd only crossed paths a few times, as was bound to happen living in such close quarters in her already miniscule hometown, but she really didn't know much about Aretha personally. So when she took on a chipper tone, making it clear that she didn't intend to snitch, Ava's lungs deflated with relief, returning Arie's smile with one of her own. "Well, what does your new wig look like? It's kind of my area of expertise, so I can help you find just the right thing to make the whole look pop," the brunette boasted, flipping her own raven locks back with a flick of her free hand. Hoping that her offer to help could serve as a token of her gratitude for her silence, Ava turned her attention to the palettes of eyeshadows across the aisle, the tube of stolen lipstick still burning a hole in her pocket. "So, are you just looking for something fun and shiny for your eyes and lips, or did you want a full face worth of new makeup?"

Emerald Haywood + outfits

If there was anyone who'd understand the itch and pull to do something NEGATIVE in town, it would be Arie. Her choice in poison was damage and destruction, however, but she'd never ever shame someone else's vibe ... maybe to their face, depending on the choice. Some simple thievery wasn't enough to make her want to ruin the other's life simply by looking for a whiff of her existence in code. No, in fact, she digged whatever excuse the other could have for finding the other with the burning hot lipstick tube, figuratively and acidic-ly threatening to eat a hole in her jacket pocket under the risk of being caught. Arie glanced at the display for a moment, probably not quelling the nagging feeling the other felt, but breaking eye contact for just enough time to pick up an item as if to investigate.

Her eyes move and she smiles at the other. They met, maybe, once or twice but Arie found herself splitting her time between the station and various places horrendously. "Hey-ya! I need a new wig but with every great wig, comes the need for makeup that matches." If it's not obvious that she had seen it, it might not be all that obvious that she wasn't going to draw attention to the fact.

( july 25, down the rabbit hole underground mall ) @anchoragestarters

Ava knew this was a bad idea. Worse than that, she felt like she was regressing, resorting to something she used to do for kicks as a high schooler, and she wasn't exactly eager to revisit the tumultuous days of her adolescence. On the contrary, it was embarrassing for the youngest Adler to admit to herself that she was even considering the possibility of petty theft as a way to entertain herself. But after the events of the last few months, a newfound sense of restlessness had settled into her bones, refusing to let her function normally without feeling like she wanted to jump out of her skin, so she was itching to do... something to quiet the festering feeling brewing in her gut.

Ambling through a cosmetics stand, she looked around to make sure no one was paying close attention to her, eyes running over the items on display with practiced disinterest. She let her fingers run over the merchandise, picking up a few tester items and eyeing them for a moment before she wandered over to the array of lipsticks. Carefully slipping a tube off of the display, Ava tucked it into her jacket pocket, a small grin blooming across her lips at the long-dormant thrill that ran down her spine over the miniscule victory. But of course, that was the exact moment she looked up and made eye contact with someone just a few feet away. Did they see that? Should I just play it cool? She was usually quick on her feet, but in that moment, the brunette felt like a deer in headlights, tactlessly blurting out, "Uhhh... heeeey. What brings you here?"

"You're still important." Arie pointed out. Diners worked a lot like computers, as did any business and their employees. She saw it as coding rather than the human race. Weird? Mabe. It helped, a little, but it was just a reminder to pay better close attention to her surroundings. She had a habit of scrolling the dark web and chatting with a penpal of sorts once she got into it. The world could've literally ended, and in some ways it had, with the recent death effecting everyone around her in a way that couldn't get to her the same way. If it had been someone else, someone close to her whether she'd admit it, she'd be a fucking mess right now... but either way, she'd still be here in this moment. She just needed to unwind regardless. "It's a pleasure to meet you officially Suraj. Better circumstances too, I'm sure." Because this wasn't for some business gain but rather personal and Arie needed personal.

Arie laughed at their joke, facial features warming with amusement. "Everyone has moves. We just need to find yours." Maybe a stretch but as she took their hand and lead them to the dance floor, she locked eyes with a familiar figure and called out to her. "Show me what you got Lacey." For a moment she let go of their hand and joined the woman, giving them a show. "Sometimes it's in the hips like this."

“Oh uhm, no worries!” Suraj cut in right away. It was almost normal to be ignored when they were working, whether they were serving or washing dishes. “I uhm, I mostly wash dishes anyway, so you probably wouldn’t have seen me anyway,” they added quickly. That and the fact that Suraj was great at being unnoticed. “Nice to meet you, Arie,” they said quickly, to make sure they wouldn’t forget the name. “I am certain you aren’t,” they added. “And else you can blame it on the music being too loud,” they suggested. A joke that had been used on them twice already in different circumstances, and one they liked. They blushed offer, having to consider it for a moment before letting out a laugh. “Sure,” they said. “Though let's keep calling them moves and not good moves because I am a very bad dancer.” They held out a hand to her, given how crowded the dancefloor was, attempting a self assured smile. Rare moments of confidence had to be taken advantage of, and the fact that they’d seen her about a dozen times now, made it much easier. They’d rely on the safety of the crowd.