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Ylva Ulven

Frankly, he had no idea how to deal with this. It seemed like Ylva was having some sort of mental breakdown—something he was not at all equipped to handle. Once, twice, three times, Ziggy tries to think of something to say to help with the situation, something he could do even, but each time, his mind draws a blank. It was starting to get hard to think. The pounding music combined with the smoke fogging up his brain slows his thoughts to a sluggish crawl; and truth be told, Ylva’s ominous doomsaying wasn’t helping much either. What did she mean by that, anyway? That none of this is good?

“Come on, it’s just a party. What are you so worried about?” Ziggy tries to sound relaxed, though he can’t quite keep the unease out of his voice. Maybe I should just shut up, he thinks to himself, the girl clearly has it handled on her own. So, instead of trying to fumble his way through someone else’s problem, Ziggy resolves to take a step back for the time being. If things got really bad, he’d lend a hand, but from the looks of it, the worst was over. Ylva appeared to be settling down a bit, and he watches as her breathing slows to a more regular rate.

It’s only when Ylva points it out that Ziggy realises how many people had left during the commotion. At first looking to the right, then looking to the left, he does a quick headcount of those who are still present. It seemed Julius was gone, leaving Lou alone with Matilda, the blow-up doll. And then, Sasha is leaving too. Ziggy barely manages to say goodbye before she rounds the corner, presumably heading back to her room. Sighing, he reaches up to rub the glaze out of his eyes with the back of his hand, and slowly climbs back up to his feet.

“Hey, uh… Ylva, right? Do you need to like, lie down or something? I could walk you back to your room maybe.” Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he gestures vaguely towards the hallway, then realises how something like that might sound. Hurriedly, Ziggy holds his hands up, palms facing out to show that he held no ill intentions. “If you’re cool with that, I mean. You just don’t look too good, s’all. Wouldn’t want you collapsing on us.”

I'll keep an eye on this.
Brave Men Run (In My Family) - Sonic Youth
Lo/Hi - The Black Keys
Congratulations - MGMT
Dinner & Diatribes - Hozier
Human Sadness - The Voidz
Lose Your Soul - Dead Man's Bones
Starboy - The Weeknd
Should Have Known Better - Sufjan Stevens
Idaho - Gorillaz
Redbone - Childish Gambino
@Ever This is so long I'm sorry lmao. Couldn't figure out where to stop. =A=

Working on a character. Should be up in the next couple of days.

Also, stupid question but since all the kids were born on the same day, they'd all be 29 years old, right?
You know I'm here. 🙌

Buford Cannon, Venus Alexander, Ylva Ulven

The first thing that comes out of Ford’s mouth when he finally approaches is an insult, or constructive criticism, as they called it in the industry. But apart from an incredulous look directed towards Ford that seemed to say ‘really, dude?’, Ziggy takes the other’s brazen affront feedback in stride. Besides, Ford was only trying to help; and in all twenty years of his life, he’s never been one to let his pride take the wheel.

…Not like he had much of it in the first place.

As Ford hands the blow-up doll over to Lou—who looked absolutely ecstatic at the prospect of getting to hold Matilda—Ziggy snorts in amusement, and shakes his head at the two’s antics. But on the other hand, it seemed as if Julius was none too pleased with his roommate’s display, quickly herding the latter off into a quieter corner of the room. For a moment or two, Ziggy watches on with measured curiosity. Julius’ concern for Lou seemed almost genuine, and while it could’ve merely been a trick of the light, he hopes that they’d be able to get along. But as with everything he does, it’s not long before he loses interest in the exchange, and turns his attention back to those gathered around the couch.

Of all the people here, Venus was one of the only few who seemed to be having as good a time as he was, and her comment about being stoned earns a grin from Ziggy. “I mean, that’s what we’re here for, right?”

To say Ylva’s outburst caught him off guard would be an understatement. Ziggy very nearly chokes on his food, breaking out in hacking coughs until he manages to crack open another beer and take a swallow. He didn’t think it was possible, but Ylva looked even paler than she was before, almost like she’d seen a ghost. As far as he could tell, Ylva hadn’t touched any of the brownies, and everyone else who did was completely fine. It couldn’t be his fault, could it?

But despite his best efforts at convincing himself otherwise, Ziggy can’t help but feel at least a little responsible for what happened. Here he was, having the time of his life while someone else was suffering a full-blown panic attack. It reminded him of a friend back home, who after a bad trip, went through a pretty gnarly episode. I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe… The words ring in his ears—gasping, gulping. Just like he couldn’t do anything back then, he can’t do anything now. Filled with the same sense of helplessness that he’d drowned in all those years ago, Ziggy finds his mind drawing a blank. Maybe if he was paying more attention, he would’ve been able to stop it, but he supposed a late start was better than nothing.

“Hey, you okay?” His inquiry is tentative, like he’s worried that with one wrong move, Ylva would be set off again. Leaning forward to get a better look, he frowns at the glassy look in her eyes. “D’you need some water or something? What happened?”

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