Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha (1922)

"Not really. They had the best program and I got in. Made sense," she answered, flicking the ashes from her cigarette, "and I had already moved to North Carolina before that. Equally far from Minnesota. Although I guess Durham wasn't as wild as New York City." She shrugged at their question, carefully considering her answer. "I don't know. I guess it depends on what you mean by home. It's been, what, sixteen years since I've lived in the Midwest." She studied them for a moment, full brows knitted together. "You don't seem to be the biggest fan of the city. What brought you here?"

"Only if you don't share." Theo gave the other a playful smirk as they both walked in tandem through New York. "You came all the way here for uni then? That's bold." They said as they offered to lit her cigarette and then lit their own, making them stop walking for a moment. "What does feel more like home, here or your hometown?"

They both resumed their walk soon after their cigs were lit. It was a nice night in New York. Theo wasn't used to that type of heat yet but they didn't mind it all that much. They'll mind it less when they get that cold beer.

Zahra nodded in a greeting, evidently preoccupied by her predicament. Thinking through her options, she remained silent for a moment before registering the man had offered to help.

"Oh, no, you really don't have to," she replied hurriedly, "I got myself into this mess, I better get myself out of it." The idea of letting a kind stranger carry her very literal burden sounded nothing short of atrocious to Zahra. Still, she was tempted to accept the offer, if only for the fact that the bag would most likely give out before she actually made it inside. "Actually," she began through gritted teeth, "I could use some help. Thank you. I'm just returning these, so, you know, gotta get them inside."

Sometimes, during his work day in his new job, Matt needed some fresh air to organize his thoughts. Leading a team of writers was starting to prove a little overwhelming and the fact that he was back here in New York so close to his own ghosts weigh on him constantly.

Matt knew the city even before he moved to live here permanently, especially Manhattan. First as a tourist but now as a resident and as he walked around, he tried to focus on his surroundings. Doing a little of people watching always helped his creativity.

That's when he noticed the woman struggling with her bag of, assumingly, books near the public library. He let out a small laugh at her comment and stepped a little closer. "Can I help you with that?" he offered.

"I hear you. And I am sure you're making the world a better place one client at a time." Zahra has absolutely no reason to doubt Violet's professional abilities, especially if her clear enthusiasm and dedication were anything to go by. While she was delighted for her, Zahra couldn't help feeling just slightly jealous of just how much enjoyment and purpose her friend seemed to get from her job. She had been like that before, living and breathing her chosen career path, but lately finding any joy in research had been near impossible. "Yeah, I know. I'm sure it's not all that unusual, you know," she spoke with a shrug, dark brown eyes reading through the menu once more, "but it's frustrating. I thought it would get easier, you know." Zahra rolled her eyes playfully at Violet's offer of help. "Oh, God no. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. You just enjoy the fact that you're done with it for the time being. That being said, I might have to take you up on your offer of drinks and snacks."

"Haha, I agree. I think the world would be much more peaceful. But it's my passion in life so of course I want everyone to come see me." she agreed, settling back in her chair. The summer air was around them, warm but not oppressive, and there was a lovely breeze. "I'm sorry you've been having trouble. I'd offer to help but I doubt I'd be much of one. I haven't thought about papers and dissertations in years and frankly, I don't want to. But I'm always here for moral support. Available at any time day or night with snacks, drinks, 2000s romcoms, and a hug." Violet teased, taking on the voice quality of an old timey superhero show narrator. "Maybe a change of pace will help."

Zahra was glad Matt seemed to be comfortable with keeping the conversation flowing, meaning she could take a backseat and concentrate on listening. It suited her just fine. She could remember her first few weeks in the city, how exciting and big it had felt. She had worn down her very favorite pair of shoes with the amount of walking she had done, completely in awe of her new home. "Those are still good places to visit. Although I guess the glitz and glamour wears off eventually." She glanced at him quickly. "What do you plan on doing now that you live here?"

"Oh..." Matt brought his fingers to his own lips and closed them with an imaginary zip. "You got it." He smiled kindly and started walking out of the library towards the hot outside. "That's all I know about New York, places to eat." He chuckled. "Whenever we visited with my family, all we did was go out to eat and visit all the parks and museums and... well, libraries." He gestured behind them. "But the tourist life is behind me now."

It was clear Zahra was itching to get out of the situation and forget all about it now that her breath had steadied and her arms didn't ache quite as much. He hadn't seem bothered to be helping her but she still felt embarrassed, her cheeks having turned a traitorous shade of red from more than just the physical activity.

"No need", she assured, shaking her head as she stood up hurriedly and pocketed her wallet with the library card in it. "I'll stop by to eat something." Zahra went to straighten her shirt before glancing at the man, managing a brief smile that didn't quite reach her dark eyes. "Thank you again. Uh, it was very nice of you."

Matt looked at the card in his hand and gave her a nod. "Zahra." he stated, slapping the card into his palm once. She didn't give him her name when he introduced himself but it was at least good to know it now. "I'll be right back then."

He smiled politely and picked the bag of books back up into his arms and disappeared further into the library, only to be back a few minutes later with a receipt and bottle of sweet lemonade he found on a vending machine. Matt offered it to her along with the card. "Take this for the road back."

"Ah, there we go. That's the attitude I was looking for," she laughed, relaxing considerably now that they were no longer talking about work. She could be fun, right? She had certainly once been. "Can't judge a place by just one dish, right? So better try a few. Besides, all of this looks way better than the bowl of cereal I had earmarked for my brunch." The amount of food options was one of the things she really loved about New York City, especially now that her creativity had ran dry and she couldn't bring herself to try anything new in the kitchen. "So, definitely the eggs and the pancakes. Anything else catches your eye?"

Violet snorted at Zahra's attitude, completely understanding. She was happy her school days were behind her, though she did miss having all those people to play with. Her eyes perused the menu again, before locking onto her friend's with glee. "Ooh, maybe they have a sampler or something? Like you can order 3 different things to try? That sounds like a great idea. But if not, I'm hungry enough to eat more than one thing. I just started a new exercise, so I'm starving."

She might have mistaken the tap on her shoulder for just another celebrant making their way out of the crowded bar had it not been so determined. She looked down at her feet, immediately realising she was indeed standing on the poor woman's very impressive Ella Enchanted costume. "I'm sorry," she half-shouted over the music, immediately taking a quick step to the side and releasing the fabric from under her feet. Hoping she hadn't caused any damage, Zahra glanced at the dress as if inspecting it for holes and tears. "I didn't ruin it, did I?"

who: anyone! ( @aurorabaystarter ) where: sharky's monster mash

With a drink on her mind, Aylin walked in her heeled boots down the few steps that separated her from the rest of the crowd and beelined straight for the bar. Once she had a drink in her hand, she would attempt to find higher ground - not wanting to deal with anyone she knew just yet. But as she shuffled on her feet impatiently, her long dress was caught under someone’s shoe at the bar. Tapping them on the shoulder, she spoke without looking up from their foot placed on her costume. “Excuse me,” she said loud enough to yell out the DJ’s Halloween tunes. “You’re standing on my dress.”

AIYSHA HART

Zahra glanced down at her feet, deeply embarrassed by the reality of her situation. "Kind of, if you can call me covering my fridge with the due date receipts a system. It has worked pretty well so far. It’s definitely not aesthetically pleasing in the slightest, but gets the job done.” Zahra wanted to be one of those well-organized Excel and spreadsheet type of people, but so far she hadn’t picked up the needed skillset, nor the motivation.

The rigidness in her voice had dissipated slightly, making her sound less defensive, leaving behind just the very obvious physical and mental exhaustion. Still, she seemed to pick up as Birdie described what she had been up to. “I mean yeah, that’s definitely work, but it at least sounds like you’re mostly enjoying it. That’s good.” Thank god she could already see the book drop and would soon be rid of her shameful cargo. “Have you found anything interesting? Could definitely use some recommendations.” While she had never played an instrument and could not say she was a particularly gifted singer, music had always been one of her dearest hobbies and one of the main reasons why she loved living in the city. "Oh? That sounds exciting."

Birdie didn't buy a word the other said, but she was willing to drop the subject. After all, she found out years and years ago that it was impossible to force any sort of change upon someone else, it was something they had to do themselves. "Right." She continued to make her way into the library with the other, "You must have one hell of an organizing system to make sure you don't catch a bunch of late fees for these things." If she checked out this many books at a time, she was liable to forget a good chunk of them and create a mess for herself in fees.

"Somewhat." She responded to the question. "Unfortunately, I haven't been able to take my own advice as of late. I've been spending a lot of my off time looking into some of the local bands for some new stuff for the station, which might bring about some fun, but is still technically work." That part was hard to set down with the incredible music scene in the city. "Who knows, maybe I'll go to that Devil's Night coming up at the She Shed for non-work related fun."

"Let's try taking one handle each. I think the bag will hold, it has so far." Obviously that didn't necessarily mean anything, but going through the books and putting them in the other woman's backpack seemed like an impossible ordeal after the journey she had taken. "And it's only few more feet. Should be fine." The amount of library trips she had taken had at least taught her to prepare; far too much of her modest storage space had been dedicated to different types of bags, the small ones stuffed inside the larger ones just like her mother had done with the trash bags under the sink. "Not sure why I picked what feels like the hottest day of the year for this trip, though."

"aaaalright. Come on, then," Isabelle's now on her feet, striding toward Zahra with an air of someone who has just been graciously faced with a challenge. She's not excessively strong, but what she is, is stubborn and bored out of her mind, and the poor woman looks like she's two breaths away from passing out in fucking 300 degrees. “Okay... how about I pick up the right handle and you, the left, or- mmm. We could like maybe put half of these in my backpack? Carry half-and-half.” She has a strawberry-pink backpack on her back that matches the floral designs in her vintage vans. She places her hands on her hips and eyes the bag thoughtfully.