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Caught between the intoxicating effects of the alcohol she had consumed and the capricious symphony of the girl trio's moods, Hanna felt akin to a marionette with her strings cut. Reality seemed to be dipped in a coat of the surreal, the ground beneath her adopting the comfortingly treacherous texture of quicksand. Her navigation through this labyrinth was eased, however, by Ivy's constant stream of chatter that anchored the purpose of their visit to Ritman Field. A blush of rosy hue painted Hanna's cheeks at Ivy's quip about the 'bureaucratic circle', the absurdity of a literal interpretation of the phrase provoking a hidden mirth within her. But her response was a mute one, a grin of shared amusement and a suppressed chuckle.

A soft “Hey--” escaped Hanna's lips in response to the 'hate mail' comment. It was ludicrous and yet not entirely unfathomable. The memory of a crowd from her past, their faces twisted in annoyance, flashed before her — Anni's was among them. Her thoughts were abruptly scattered when Ivy's sudden clapping resonated through the field. Hanna recoiled as if subjected to a shock of electricity, a gasped “Jesus--” marking her surprise. Anticipation sparkled in her eyes, though. The grand unveiling of their shared past was nigh. Her fingers mimed drumming in the air, her voice attempted a dramatic drumroll, only to botch the sound effect with an ill-timed “Ba-Dum-Tss!”. Her humor was soon to be muted, though, as Ivy's countenance morphed into one of disappointment. A shiver of concern ran through her as she echoed Ivy's bewilderment, her eyes falling upon the empty capsule.

Hanna's jubilant smile faded into a frown of concern. She was familiar with Ivy's propensity to take setbacks to heart, especially when the setback concerned something close to her. But this was not the right setting for their usual comforting routine. The alcohol coursing through her veins made her overly empathetic, tuning her into the poignant waves of emotions emanating from Ivy. It was a challenging moment, one they would eventually navigate past as they always did. Hanna moved to Ivy's side, her fingers gently catching a stray tear on Ivy's cheek. “We probably just got another class's capsule. It's not the end of the world. We'll just get the right one tomorrow and do this again.” Her words of comfort hovered in the air, but Ivy's attention was arrested by the book and the singular ominous word it bore: Oblivion.

What ensued was a display of the uncanny that Hanna initially attributed to the alcohol playing tricks on her. The letters from the book seemed to take on a life of their own, springing toward Ivy like predators on their prey. A gasped exclamation ripped through Hanna's throat -- “What the fuck!” -- her grip on Ivy slackened as she recoiled from the spectacle. Then, chaos ensued. It felt like the earth beneath was rebelling, its surface convulsing as if caught in an earthquake or a whirlwind. As Ivy succumbed to a strange transformation, Hanna could not help but wonder if their drinks had been spiked with something more potent. She barely had time to register her thoughts before an explosion of sorts swallowed them, plunging everything into darkness. Hanna was thrown into a chasm of unconsciousness.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな

p. johnson's ritman high football field
interacting with: Ivy/@CaliforniaState
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“AAAHHH!” A cascade of ecstatic sound, more akin to an orchestral crescendo than a scream, burst from Hanna's lungs. It was a siren's call of pure, unfettered bliss that echoed around the room at the prospect of carpooling. “What do you mean 'not exciting'?!” she rebuked, eyes shining brighter than a supernova. “This is the best thing ever so far!” She chimed in unison with the pulsating music in the background. Hanna's hands came together, a blur of motion, palms meeting in a series of rapid-fire claps interspersed with peculiar smudging motions as though she were sculpting the very joy in the air.

Hanna giggled all the way to the car. Each sound escaping her presence formed a melody of disproportionate exhilaration. Like an eager child on Christmas morning, she flitted along, her footfalls punctuating the evening with their rhythmic beat, arm in arm with Ivy. Every so often, Hanna's head glanced over her shoulder, eyes darting to ensure nobody was left behind. It was an odd paranoia, one borne of alcohol's whispering shadows, that saw her vigilantly guarding her flock like a shepherdess guiding her bleating charges to safer pastures. “Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun,” Hanna chanted, her voice a wind chime caught in a playful breeze. The phrase became a mantra, the soundtrack to her impromptu sprint toward the car. It was the prize at the end of her dash -- the passenger seat door was her golden ticket, and she was the excited kid ready to claim her ride in the chocolate factory.

As the car approached the familiar school grounds, Hanna was confronted by an onslaught of memories that flooded her consciousness, much like an unexpected tidal wave crashing onto a tranquil beach. The familiarity of the school grounds invoked a nostalgia that held both the sweet melancholy of a sepia-toned photograph and the sharp sting of an old wound infected with cringe -- much like a horror movie that one watches between split fingers. Her deep-sea dive into the fathomless depths of her memory was abruptly halted by Ivy's call to motion.

“Come on, guys, let's go!” Hanna's voice shrieked through the confined space of the vehicle, akin to an air raid siren wailing through the echoing canyons of a deserted city, its intensity amplified by the alcohol she had imbibed earlier. Stepping out of the car, the short saunter to the heart of the football field was a temporal paradox, an uncanny experience that felt both as fleeting as a butterfly's flight and as enduring as a solar eclipse. Hanna's world spun on its axis, not quite a vertiginous whirl, but enough to keep her unsteady. A straight path was navigable as long as Ivy remained her sturdy companion, arms together. As Ivy, the dusky Aphrodite, prepared to address their small party, Hanna raised a cautioning finger to her lips. She released a drawn-out shush, her exaggerated theatricality rendering her as comical as a mime performing in the park. An impish grin danced upon her face, one that mimicked the vacant euphoria of a marionette, oblivious to the strings that pulled her along.

As inevitable as the rising sun, Hanna's emotional dam splintered at the height of Ivy's heartfelt soliloquy. Tears, the shimmering ambassadors of her overwhelming sentiment, welled up in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over in a deluge of raw emotion. Her hands fluttered before her face, a futile dance of denial akin to a hummingbird's vain attempt to repel an impending storm. It was the raw sincerity and unadulterated authenticity in Ivy's delivery that truly unraveled Hanna's emotional composure. Yet, guilt played its part too, a gnawing sense of shared responsibility for any hiccups during their tenure at Ritman that haunted her like an inescapable specter.

“Lucas is right,” Hanna concurred, her voice shaking like an autumn leaf caught in crosswinds. Her words bore the weight of unwavering conviction. “It's not your fault, babe. It was the school and its bureaucratic circus that failed us.” Amidst her cathartic release, Hanna sought to regain her composure. With the grace of an eraser wiping clean a chalk-smeared board, she brushed away the errant tears that had streaked down her cheeks. These were the tears that had broken free from the confines of her glistening eyes, brave explorers charting a course down the contours of her face.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな

p. johnson's ritman high football field
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Lucas/@Mao Mao
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Hanna was definitely Harley Quinn to Ivy's Poison. The thought had never entered her occasionally chaotic head before, but it made perfect sense and was quite witty. On that note, their old High School embers had without doubt ignited again. Hanna was infinitely grateful that their reunion had been so smooth and superfast. She locked arms with the mellow beauty as they scuttled towards the bar. “We'd make awesome villains in the new Batman movies with Twilight-guy as the Batman. Have you seen it, the latest one? Fuuuuck, it's sooo good,” Hanna gushed at the memory of said film.

The gals had already arrived at the bar by the end of Hanna's chatter. The bartender that had recognized her earlier just finished up with another customer, then pointed at the drink that Hanna had ordered before going into the bathroom. “Oh sweet Vodka and orange juice, how I love you so.” Hanna lightly giggled as she took the first sip of the drink through a black straw. “Anyway, you think he was hot in Twilight? Holy shit is he giga-hot as the new Batman. He's, like, the finest piece of socially awkward brooding INCEL you could ask for.” Hanna started to crack herself up at the word 'incel' and built a crescendo of hyena cackling towards the end of the sentence. The internet and the Chat had found its perfect bridge into the real world through Hanna. “Fuck, sorry,” she tried to say through loss of breath and strained laughing chimes, putting her drink down on the bar counter and covering her mouth with the other hand. “That word is so fucking funny--” she managed to say just at the base of catching a panicky inhalation. “INCEL--holy shit!” The words barely made sense before Hanna burst into uncontrollably violent laughter again.

The bartender simply stood there and stared at them while Hanna clung onto Ivy so as to not fall. It was embarrassing and funny all at the same time. Some random people around them sort of smirked at Hanna's laughter, but they really had no idea what had been said that was so funny. The others at the Ritman table would probably be able to hear Hanna's shrieking noises, unless they were busy trying to kill each other. Hanna sincerely tried to stop, however. She forced herself to take deep breaths and interrupt the laughter while minding her teary eyes, so as to not ruin the paint.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
Wii

p. johnson's [restrooms] p. johnson's [bar]
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde
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Ivy's visage dipped a tad every now and then as she spoke. Hanna gently put her pinky finger underneath the gal's chin each time to readjust into the awful light in the bathroom. Ivory's musings were a lot more profound or perhaps self-aware than they used to be. She did tumble down into these criticisms of herself back at Ritman, as well, but not to this extent. Hanna's eyes occasionally sailed between focus on the craft and Ivy's eyes, whenever things dipped into ranting. "Being a bit harsh on yourself there, babe," Hanna thought, but she did not say anything. Letting out steam was the best thing that could happen right now. There was no way that Hanna could manage the whole team by herself if Ivy was going to carry thins kind of shit around on her shoulders -- Hanna needed Ivy just as much as Ivy needed Hanna.

“Hey... don't be like that. You didn't fail anyone back then--” Hanna briefly stopped what she was doing, resting her arms by her sides. “Do you even know the kind of 'light in the darkness' that you were to some people? No, you don't, because those kinds of people never talk about it directly to the person, but they spoke to me and I know--” Hanna's voice became slightly strained, almost annoyed, but she brushed it off and continued with the cosmetics. “You were such an inspiration to so many people, babe. You really have to take that in when I say it--” Hanna interrupted herself mid-sentence again: “--and don't even get me started on 'helping' people. Most people don't want any fucking help, seriously. That's, like, THE one thing I've learned from having to deal with these fashion types in NYC. They're so far up their own asses with ego and problems that they're not looking for solutions, they thrive on that shit. And if you think I talk a lot, these motherfuckers literally talk non-stop. Can you imagine that? Someone that talks more than me? That's how bad it is. And then there's the complete opposite, the zombies. They never talk and never listen, so you can't help them either. So, you have to be happy in your own boat and just keep sailing the way you want to, first. And then, after a while, these people will open up to you because you are a sense of comfort, and BOOM -- they're all of a sudden open to anything you have to say. Besides, everybody out there knew full well who could possibly show up tonight, but they came anyway.” They concluded their little back and forth, and then remained silent for just a brief moment as Hanna did her thing.

“There she is -- Poison Ivy herself.” Hanna cracked a genuine smirk at the calories jab. It was fairly easy to tell the difference between Hanna's real and 'fake' smiles. Or, well, calling them 'fake' did not do it justice. They were just trained in the same way that all media types train certain facial expressions to make it look good for camera. If Hanna's upper lip was folded outwards with a full, straight row of upper teeth showing, then it was a 'fake' smile. A genuine expression was less symmetrical, upper lip folded inward, and with more pronounced smile dimples in the cheeks.

And then, there was a little something-something that happened in the beaut before her. It was subtle, no verbal indication, but the eyes spoke to such volumes that it could flood P. Johnson's ten times over. It was completely alien to Hanna and had never happened during their years at Ritman together. Hanna's facial expression sort of instantly relaxed to a default state, although raising both eyebrows to their absolute peak, stopping all movements. “Oh, weak in the knees are we?” Hanna said with pure instinct, no filtering inside her head at all, but following it all up by relaxing her frame, continuing with the cosmetics, and throwing a sensual smile in there to tease Ivy. “I can smudge lipsticks all night long, you know that.” Hanna had been quite transparent with her own sexuality even back then, but it had also never been a huge thing for her or super central to her identity -- it was just a natural thing, and that was the end of it. "Holy shit, you are so fucking cringe. You shouldn't have said the 'make out' part in the first place, dumb ass bitch." Her mind scolded itself.

“Yup, all done!” Hanna said with a chipper tone, proud of her glowing work on Ivy's face. “I'd like to thank the Academy for this amazing award--” Hanna fired up with a silly voice. “For me--”, flamboyantly putting both hands on her chest, gazing at the non-existent horizon, sporting the fakest smile she could muster, “--Hanna Whittle, who, unlike miss Williams here, actually knows how to use basic paint and colors--” she continued by poking fun at cosmetics in general and sarcastically implying that Ivy had no clue how to properly use it. “Thank you so much,” she concluded with a faint sniffling sound, holding a ghostly award in her hands, throwing kisses from her hands into the void of some imaginary crowd. Hanna must have come off as batshit insane to any stranger walking in, but it would hopefully relax Ivy a little bit before getting back into the fray.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな

p. johnson's [restrooms]
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde
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The waiter did their best to keep up with the incoming desires for more. Anni had the right idea of just going big right away with something for the whole table. However, Hanna was still locked in on that burger even if Pizza was really pulling at her temptations -- she would probably have a taste or even a whole slice, anyway. “Oh yeah, plain cheese just like the McCallister kid”. Hanna followed up in Anni's heels with another Home Alone reference, although this time said out loud instead of lingering in her head. The server noted Ivy's request in addition to the food, and perhaps whatever the others wanted to get, and then they were off.

“How about that? Nobody remembers shit,” Hanna chuckled after listening to what Lucas had to say about the matter, being in a similar situation as herself. Things happening around the table sort of bled into each other, like a mushy goo of events, which played a few tricks on Hanna's senses in maddening collaboration with the alcohol. While still having her attention on Lucas, a watchful eye on CJ and Anni, Ivory excused herself and trotted off to the bathroom. "What the fuck just happened?" Her mind took off like a rocket into space. She did not quite catch Ivy's demeanor before the girl had already disappeared, which left Hanna slightly paranoid.

“I'm going to get another drink from that nice man at the bar -- back in like 2 seconds.” Hanna said to excuse herself for a moment, although keeping that smile on her face. Luckily, she was wearing sneakers instead of heels. She did not want to make anyone uncomfortable by towering at 5'11-something as she did when clacking around in those things. Wearing regular shoes made nights of alcohol manageable and walks of shame less of thing -- at least, that is what it felt like. Hanna made it to the bar and caught eye contact with that same bartender that recognized her from the streams. She held the empty glass up a little bit over the crowd, tapped on it, and indicated a refill with her index finger. However, she also gestured that she was headed for the bathroom, and that she would be back. The bartender nodded to show that he understood.

Hanna silently flowed along the well decorated hallway leading to the restrooms, making a soft entrance. The music in the background turned into that muffled kind of bassy sound, as if someone had put a filter on it and cut all the high frequencies off. Hanna found Ivy musing in front of the mirror covering one of the walls, a few sinks being available underneath it. She slowly slunk into view, so as not to startle Ivy, and then came closer to the gal from behind at a slight angle. Hanna crouched forward just a little bit, or perhaps squatted a tad, and rested her chin against one of Ivy's shoulders, smiling at the gal in the reflection of the mirror. “I can do it if you want,” Hanna said, indicating at the cosmetics. Hanna had always put her face on for as long as she could remember, but it had not been until the influencer thing that she had taken an interest in the artsy side of it. Since then, she had become quite adept at it, but nowhere near as good as some in the fashion industry.

Hanna shifted around Ivy and leaned against the sink, mirror now at her back, carefully applying everything that Ivy wanted to redo -- even if starting over with the face like this in the bathroom of some rinky-dink bar was a bit extreme. “I realize that we haven't seen each other for a minute, but you are still pretty obvious to me, you know. This wasn't a bad idea, if that's what you think. They just need some time out there. A little food, a few drinks, and everyone will be totally Gucci and ready to open that capsule. And then, we'll celebrate with a few more drinks to get shitfaced. And then, we'll make out for a bit and pass out somewhere,” she said with a playfully teasing wink. “And then, tomorrow, we'll go shopping in Portland -- it'll be the best time.” Hanna smiled. She had not been this excited and happy for a while, even if the streams and interacting with the Chat was pretty close.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
すてきな

p. johnson's [ritman table] [restrooms]
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde
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Ivy lingered for a second. It was long enough for Hanna to notice and snap out of her little act with a cheeky attitude. "Huh, what's the matter?" She thought, returning Ivy's musings before they were both interrupted by Jack. Whatever that was, it was certainly a footnote to keep track of going forward. The thought of having done something or said something to Ivy that had put a dent in their friendship since Ritman worried Hanna for a second. Or, maybe it was something else entirely.

Hanna chuckled at the Molly Ringwald comparison. She had never been to detention before, but that was probably not the point. Anni's thing sounded cute, though. Hanna sort of wished that is what she had put into the capsule. But, fearing the worst, she probably put something stupid in there like a pair of earrings, mascara, or some other shit that had sentimental value she had long forgotten about-- "CJ..." Hanna muttered underneath her breath, layering herself with Ivy's response, as a reaction to the 'nothing matters' comment.

As the waiter approached, Hanna discreetly snagged the menu at their table. She quickly skimmed through the sections to the burgers, which, as suspected, had a juicy cheeseburger with Hanna's name written all over it. The waiter took note of Ivy's request for a refill and put the order into the tablet thingy she was carrying. “Can I get number 24? And some fries with it?” Hanna said while the rest of the group kept going with the capsule conversation. The waiter nodded and put the order down. “Oh, also, everything at this table is for my tab -- Hanna Whittle, which includes the girl here that wanted a refill.” Hanna indicated to Ivy, which the waiter had already figured out. “Guys, get something while the waiter is here,” she casually continued, fleetingly, so as to not interrupt the flow of the conversation but still make herself heard. Hanna let go of the menu to the center of the table if there was someone else that wanted to look at it, listening to what CJ had to say.

“CJ!” Hanna exclaimed, somewhat chuckling but controlling her demeanor at the same time, eyes rapidly jumping back and forth between Lucas and the blonde. “You can't just, like, mention someone's religion like that -- what tha Faackh.” She let out another snort sound while cracking herself up with a sort of breath-mixed laughter, and chucking the rest of her drink. It was clearly the alcohol talking and completely missing the point of everything. This was Hanna's biggest problem when becoming tipsy -- everything became funny.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by

p. johnson's [ritman table]
interacting with: CJ/@TGM
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Hanna would lie if she denied getting a tiny rush of feel-good after Anni's acknowledgment. A genuine smirk forced itself onto the corner of Hanna's lips along with a modest wink thrown in Anni's direction -- an 'anytime, honey' kind of indication. And then, there was Ivy's toast with a bunch of questions crammed into it by herself and Lucas. CJ had returned along with half the food on the menu, which, incidentally, was exactly what Hanna hoped that all of them would do. However, Hanna did devote some of her attention to how things played out between CJ and Anni -- just in case.

The time capsule idea that Ivy had was terrific. Hanna gently bobbed up and down in her seat, rapidly but softly clapping her hands, and grinning like a dummy in excitement, letting out one of those snoring sounds as she laughed softly. “Oh, shit.” She quickly covered her mouth with both hands, eyes squinting in silent laughter at herself. Although, she recovered most ricky-tick so as to not interrupt Ivy.

Hanna's mind wandered back to that day with the time capsule. "What did I actually put in there? Fuck, I can't remember. This is what you get for being such a sperg all the time, BANANA." She thought. Hanna snapped back to reality when Ivy slapped her in the face with the Burn Book. That thing had been such a scourge back at Ritman that it was this never-ending meme in and of itself. They still do not know who actually created it in the first place, but it certainly came out of Natalie Miller's corner of the world, and the plastics. Hanna had helped Ivy to tackle that thing multiple times because it definitely caused several incidents between students and even teachers -- what a fucking nightmare. “You're such a skank, babe. Completely reckless and out of control--” Hanna retorted with a devious smirk on her lips, describing the beaut as the polar opposite of her personality traits, as a tease. “--I don't remember what I put in there, so it'll be a nice surprise for everyone,” she said, straightening her spine where she sat, taking another sip of her drink, keeping eye contact with Ivy, being generally sassy.

It was difficult to tell if Hanna was coming down from the adrenaline-induced nervosity of the reunion or if it was just the alcohol. Either way, she was swiftly becoming more loose by the second. Hanna eyed CJ's burger and instantly fell hungry. "Fuuuuck, I need something real quick," her stomach thought for her. Even the possibility of hanving breadsticks was good enough at this point. With her eyes, Hanna momentarily sought the attention of a server that could possibly accommodate her needs at this time. When one of them seemingly caught Hanna's starved look, they readied some tiny machine with a touch-screen and began to walk over to the Ritman Reunion table. All of this happened in a few fleeting seconds. Hanna's attention returned to the ragtag group by her side without much notice of having been gone.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by

p. johnson's ?
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro
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Hanna's demeanor took a slight turn from the typical, high-octane energy fest to something less hectic. The initial rush of all the impressions and roller coaster inside of herself had made it past the first, massive drop. Anni was obviously and disproportionally moved by CJ's presence. Even if Hanna had watered the grapevine more than once back at Ritman, she was not the fucking gardener. Every little needle-pricking thing that people did to each other was just impossible to be aware of at all times. Perhaps it did not matter, though, as it was not exactly rocket science. Hanna slowly reached a hand over toward Anni, tapping gently at the table in front of her to hopefully snap the girl out of her rut. Hanna had no idea how Anni was with physical touch, so this little gesture was the best alternative. “Hey-hey-hey, it's okay. We're here now, and it's not going to be like back at Ritman where nobody gives a shit. I'm here, I give a shit. Ivy is also here, and she certainly gives a shit. Speaking of, Ivy and I are going for a bit of shopping in Portland after this -- you should totally come with us if you want. Okay? So, just let it go, this thing. CJ will come around, eventually, and it'll be alright. And if it gets nasty, I'll go berserk on her ass, alright?” Hanna said in a moderate tone, lowering her voice as Jack approached the table. "Wow, I either made it 100 times worse or better for her. I really hope it's the latter," her mind lingered before turning attention to Jack.

“You're very welcome, JD.” Hanna refired with a glistening smile. “You seem to be yourself, still. I mean, we haven't been gone all that long from this place, right? Fuck, I can barely remember graduation day -- what did we do? There was a ceremony, something-something, and then it's just BLANK,” Hanna chuckled while sweeping a plam before her face as she said 'blank'. “You look great, by the way. I wish I'd gone for something more appropriate for, well, whatever tonight turns out to be.” Hanna contemplated and quickly eyed herself from the neck down where she sat. The white top, sort of casual yet still made by some obscure NYC designer, certainly accentuated her tits and made her show a lot of skin, but it did not do much else in terms of comfort. And, the ultra-tight denim jeans glued to her legs almost made her a cripple. “Oh, here we go,” Hanna interrupted herself as Ivy took to making a proper toast for the dysfunctional team at hand. Hanna let out a modest cheering pop from her ever-so-powerful lungs, cutting into the sound bed of the place yet again, and then took another sip of her Screwdriver. “Fuck yeah, babe. Not good, but the BEST -- that's what you are. So, what do we do now, captain? We were supposed to do something, right? I forget, like I forget everything,” Hanna chuckled and forced herself to shut up, taking another sip. The alcohol was really starting to set in -- that warm, fuzzy feeling starting to spread. "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up -- holy shit," she thought.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by

p. johnson's ?
interacting with: Ivy/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro JD/@nodogs
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"Are you sure you can pay for all these people, miss?" The bartender fixing Hanna's drink asked as he presented it to her. He was most likely referring to CJ being a loose cannon, or Anni, or whoever starting to take advantage. “Yes, it's really no problem. Just start a tab on me -- Hanna Whittle.” She said and took a sip of the drink. It was a deliciously sweet taste of orange with just a hint of vodka. The bartender sort of froze in place for a second, taking a closer look at Hanna, as if she had turned to stone or become some hideous monster. “What's the matter?” She inquired, a bit stunned, worried that something was wrong with her credit card or, god forbid, that her makeup had been messed up by something. "HannaBanana?" The bartender smirked. It took the girl a second to realize what he was asking. She thought the guy offered to put bananas in the drink, or something. “Right, yeah.” She chuckled. "I thought that was you. I watch some of your streams, entertaining stuff." The bartender said while putting down Hanna's info for the tab. “Oh, thank you, that's so sweet of you to say.” Hanna smiled and took another sip. "First drink's on me," the bartender winked at the girl, and then moved his attention to other customers.

It was always quite something to randomly meet people that watched Hanna's streams or knew what she did for a living. Of course, it happened a lot more in NYC, which meant that anywhere else in the country naturally made a bigger impact. "Oh boy, look at me gushing over this random man in Delton," she thought to herself. Hanna's eyes lingered on the bartender for a few more seconds before interrupting herself. “Easy on the breadsticks, Lucas. You're gonna feel like shit later if you stuff yourself with those,” she chuckled as she said it. The line reminded her of that one relative in Home Alone that said 'Fuller, go easy on the Pepsi', or the kid would wet the bed. Not that Hanna thought Lucas was a child, but it was a funny coincidence to her nonetheless. “Sorry, I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was that those things always fuck me up whenever I have them. So, it's just amazing to me how anyone can eat them.” Her gibberish fired up again, mostly out of fear that she had said something insensitive, perhaps. “Anyway, perhaps you heard, just now, that I'll pay for everything here, so get something more, alright? Who the fuck knows what will happen while we're here, so we might as well let loose a little bit.” Hanna said to Lucas, holding on to that smile and friendly demeanor, while Ivory called CJ and Jack over to join the fun. "Holy shit, BANANA, you're fucking things up," her mind wandered along with the moderate chaos going on.

Hanna politely indicated to Lucas to excuse her while she nearly shouted across the bar to CJ, Jack, and all the lost souls wandering around: “Come on guys, get over here.” And then she did the thing with the hands that Scorpion from Mortal Combat does. “Get over here!” She said again, trying to put on a darker voice as well, with a stupid grin on her face. Her gaze sailed between those at the table, chucking to herself without end, nearly running out of air. Hanna would certainly appear drunk to any bypassing stranger, but she had barely had two sips of her drink so far. It was all just her way of being nervous, on edge, and slightly uncomfortable, as anyone would be at a High School reunion. She looked at Anni again while taking a third taste of her drink. “You okay there, Anni?” Hanna asked with a more mellow tone in regard to the comment the gal threw at CJ, just a few moments ago.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by

p. johnson's ?
interacting with: Lucas/@Mao Mao Anni/@Kuro
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Hanna tilted her head slightly at Anni's initial response. Although, Hanna kept the warm, inviting smile in an attempt to use Jedi mind tricks on the gal -- and it worked! Anni seemed reluctant in her surrender, going against all of her instincts, but it was impressive that she even considered it to begin with. Hanna momentarily raised both of her eyebrows at the comment about being the neighborhood chatterbox, although in good spirits. “How could you tell?” she chuckled. Anni's flippant attitude suited her much better now, especially with that new look. Hanna let her eyes throw a quick glance at the girl from head to toe -- it was pulled off surprisingly well.

Ivory seemed to be a little bit off her game. She sounded more like a politician trying to convince an uninterested voter than an old classmate. However, this was Ivy's strength back then. She really had that high-society, high-effort thing down to a tee. “Will you relax, babe? We're not trying to sway voters here,” Hanna said with a rapid pace and at a reduced tone, meant only for Ivy, even if Anni would clearly be able to hear it. “You do look amazing, Anni. I just love what you've done with your hair. It really suits you, and the look you're going for here. Absolutely stellar --” Hanna fired up while starting to rumble through her handbag for her wallet. “Bartender!” She nearly shouted, busting herself as it happened, quickly covering her mouth to shut herself up. “Bartender,” Hanna began again after the man's attention had arrived: “Could I have a good old Screwdriver, please, and I'd also like to pay for everyone here,” she said and discretely indicated Ivy, Anni, and Lucas. “And I don't want to hear anything from you--” Hanna stared at Ivy for a split second. If it was not clear that it was about the money, then she would have to spill it out in plain English later. “Or anyone else for that matter,” she said and returned eye contact with the bartender. “And that's that. We're going to have a good fucking time tonight,” Hanna promptly concluded and handed the Bartender her credit card. “I have no idea why everyone gushes over Hasanabi so much, he's not that fucking hot,” Hanna followed up her order with her famous 720-spin turnaround in topics of discussion.

CJ introduced herself to the modest gathering in an ever so casual way, as one would expect. Hanna's smile crept back onto her lips after the momentary bewilderment concerning a political meme streamer, of all things. “Drinks on me CJ, so help yourself to whatever you want,” Hanna said and indicated to the bartender to include CJ in Hanna's tab. “I'm not trying to suck anyone's dick here, but I don't e-whore for nothing, so we might as well put that simp money to good use.” Hanna had been quite unfiltered in her speech during High School, but her adventures online ever since had certainly loosened up her language use by some margin, to say the least. There was such a thing as talking too much even in Hanna's mind. It was without doubt a nervous defensive mechanism. She was no stranger to being social, but that did not mean that Hanna was completely immune to its various intricacies and conundrums. However, she figured that staying loose and not making a huge thing out of not having seen each other for some time was the best way to go about this reunion.

Hanna finally shut her mouth for a second while watching the bartender get her drink ready.

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#1.01 WAY DOWN WE GO
drive by

p. johnson's ?
interacting with: Ivory/@Salsa Verde Anni/@Kuro CJ/@TGM
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