bruises on both my knees \\ open, meet and greet

[eliza]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: #494949; font-family: karla; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"]
carter had a quiet, unassuming sort of presence. she moved with ease, with confidence, but nothing about her really suggested anything about her as a person. there was no charm twinkling in her smile, no mischief in her eyes, no danger in her step. she might be a timid wife, the calm to her husbands storm, just as easily as she could have been a crazed killer, discretely hidden behind walls she'd put up long ago. maybe she was a little of both, or something else entirely.

all anyone could really tell, as the blonde stood with arms crossed in front of her frame, lips pursed, eyes attentive, was that whoever, whatever carter was, she kept it hidden very, very well. a year or so, they'd lived in this city, and the only person who knew any shade of her was the man she'd known for the last decade-and-a-half. and anyone who thought that this wasn't intentional, that she hadn't build those walls on purpose, was simply dense.

[color=#C591A5]❝okay everyone, lets have another go at this meet and greet thing.❞ she called out, eyes searching the small group before herself, figuring the least she could do was let them think they knew her. [color=#C591A5]❝share your name, and a little bit about yourself.❞ most facts, in general, tended to be quite boring, but it felt kind of strange to only share your name. too short, too routine. [color=#C591A5]❝i'll start us off: i'm carter montgomery, i've lived here almost a year now, i'm almost thirty, i have a twin sister somewhere, and i'm afraid of heights.❞ it was as personal as carter ever really got, and that, in itself, was progress.

[RYLAN W.]

[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 9.2pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Ry's starting to think that he's incapable of making good decisions. Like leaving home in the first place was kinda stupid, walking all the way out here was kinda stupid, and deciding to stay when things were weird was kinda stupid. You know what? He doesn't actually care. There are dogs.

He's petting one of them when he first hears Carter's voice, looking up from an enthusiastic petting session with a startled blink. It's almost as if he had forgotten that human beings existed — maybe he did. The young man doesn't straighten up from where he's sitting, a fuzzy mutt half-way in his lap and also staring at one of Los Santos's leaders. She looks like she doesn't quite want to be here, and nothing she says is some important secret. Couldn't kill her with knowledge about her twin sister. Not like Rylan's really planning on that. Unlike the woman's stony exterior, people often find Ry to be brimming with something strange. It's not mischief or charm, it's certainly not dangerous, but he's off. Some people like it, some people really don't. He's a skewed tie, messy hair, mismatched socks.

Not dangerous, just weird.

Rylan clears his throat and scrapes one of his hands up and down the dog's side, the other lifting to wave at the only other person currently present. "I'm Rylan, I'm new here. You can call me Ry. Uh. I like dogs, and I wanted to be a magician when I was a kid."

[charlie luciano]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9pt; line-height:1.3"]Chocolate hues were drawn towards the woman who had called for a "meet and greet" session nearby. His attention lingered on the gathering of people, as well as the words uttered from their mouths. Their voices were unfamiliar, as were their faces, personalities, quirks. Charlie had yet to really learn about anybody who resided in the town, save for the higher ups, who he really only knew the names of. It felt so out of place for the former boss to be surrounded by strangers, as opposed to a year ago when he knew everybody in his group and what they were like.

It didn't seem that this gathering was mandatory — these things never were. However, after catching glimpses looking towards him expectantly, Charlie blinked and decided to play along. In his gruff tone of voice, he simply stated, ""... Charlie." He had to be careful about what information he shared, considering he was a rather private person when it came to new people. There was always a lingering paranoia that someone here might use any given information against him or his loved ones.

So, for now, he would settle with, "I'm from New York." That was good enough for them, surely. They weren't asking for a whole life story here.

[ABD AL-MALIK]

[align=center][div style="width: 530px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: .3px; line-height: 1.3; padding: 4px;"]Abd al-Malik had been to a meet and greet before, in Los Santos. It had been small — but Los Santos had been, too. Still was, but the people seemed brighter than before. Less likely to gut you in a back alley for looking at them the wrong way, and that was... nice.

But that didn't make Abd al-Malik feel any safer. Not that he felt endangered by his own people, but it wasn't easy to trust them with anything more than his life. And maybe that sounded like the greatest honour, but trusting someone to have your back in a fight was nothing in comparison to letting them know your darkest parts with the same intimacy as your blood. It'd been a while since anyone had come anywhere near that threshold, but he wasn't looking to change it — just to acquaint himself with the people with whom he shared a home.

"I'm Abd al-Malik," he greeted, English far smoother than it had been. He glanced at Charlie, then Rylan, then Carter. "I'm from Milano — Milan."