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@aevumfm
⸻ AEVUMFM !
dependent mumu blog for bearcreekfm, written by penny + featuring:
matthew beattie, he/him. fifty. principal @ bear creek school. hamish linklater. intro. threads.
samuel elroy, he/him. thirty-five. freelance photographer + dj/bartender @ neon rainbow. jacob anderson. intro. threads.
kenny: i think that's most pets. at least george likes to be snuggled. kenny: not by me, mind you. but he jumps on jamie's lap everytime. kenny: he knows where the food is by now, so i can't really deny him. my heart is not that cold and black – don't tell anyone that, though. kenny: he's fine. is he usually a pestering type of cat?
matthew: oh really? i can imagine that, i suppose. i'm much the same. matthew: that's sweet! how is jamie? and how are you? matthew: oh your secret is safe with me. matthew: if you're trying to write, or really be in any way productive, yes. though maybe that's just special behaviour for me. i wouldn't be surprised.
OPEN : to anyone ( 0/4 )
LOCATION : enchanted emporium
although chloe had learned that most people who wandered into the enchanted emporium claimed they were only looking, she never took their answer at face value - curiosity had a way of bringing people through the door long before they knew what they were searching for. she was behind the counter sorting through a new shipment of incense and candles when the little bell above the entrance chimed, drawing her attention toward the newcomer. setting aside the box in her hands, she offers them an easy smile, dark irises meeting theirs before shifting toward the shelves filled with crystals, herbs, books, alongside other curiosities she's accumulated over the years. "welcome," she greets. "can i help you find something?" there's no judgment in the question; half the fun of the shop is letting people discover something unexpected. her gaze finds its way to the tarot table positioned in the corner, where a deck rests atop the velvet cloth. "or, if you're feeling brave, i could interest you in a tarot reading. love, work, general life crisis..." a faint smile pulls at her lips as she gestures toward the cards. "the usual suspects. no pressure, though. sometimes the universe has better timing than we do."
he can count on one hand the number of times he's visited enchanted emporium before. hasn't had much... need for it? or, maybe slightly more accurately, can't think of a reason he would. which is perhaps unfair. all the history books he's read over a lifetime have told him time and time again there's a place for herbs, crystals, and the like. sam reminds himself to keep an open mind, slipping headphones down to sit around his neck as he enters and is warmly welcomed. "uhm," there's a long pause and he takes a cursory glance around. catching sight of a display of candles, he settles on them to form the centre of his exploration. the alternative offered up, though, is nicely timed and he blinks free of that thought process. "like the... cards?" silence again as he considers it, then a tentative nod and a smile. "guess i'm feeling brave. how does it work?"
( jacob anderson, cis man, he/him, thirty-five ) look who goes there! is that samuel elroy? i’ve seen them often around evergreen, which may be because they are a freelance photographer + dj/bartender @ neon rainbow. they’ve been in town for twenty-seven years and i’ve known them to be gentle but also passive. for some reason, solo by frank ocean reminds me of them, as well as thriving house plants, morning light through bedroom curtains.
Honestly, Kat wasn't a great multi-tasker, and it wasn't unusual for her to be to concentrating on her job so intensely that she missed people coming and going around her. So Matthew had gone unnoticed the first time he'd passed the yard. Though Kat wasn't bothered by his sudden presence, especially since he offered her water, which Kat would be utterly stupid to decline. Though she did notice that he seemed to hover a small distance away. "You just take all that on your wander?" The farrier mused, raising an eyebrow at him. The candy didn't interest her in that moment. A shrug at the question. "No more than usual."
if anything, he admired her unwavering focus on the job at hand. anyone who worked with him knew trying to get the principal to focus on one thing and see it completely through was sometimes... tricky. as such, the last thing he'd ever expect kat to do would be to stop her work just to, what? give him a wave? no, he could survive without being greeted by a hard-at-work friend. "no, no, these are just the middle-aged man equivalent of drunk takeout on the way home." plucked a granola bar from the bag to open. "well that's... is that good? i don't know. how long does it usually take to...?" trailed off as the phrasing escaped him despite the efforts of both wife and daughter to educate him.
setting: dam duck derby, with matthew beattie @aevumfm
camila would never willingly skip a community event, especially one that was designed for charity, so she was ready when the day came to join everyone else along the path of the boardwalk. today, she decides to test her luck by picking up two ducks; once they are paid for, she leaves the line and goes to sit not so far away from it, next to someone she didn't look too closely before she begins to speak. "what do you think it looks like? and yes, i'm going to name them – it would be weird if i didn't name my champion." of course, by the time her rambling ends, she has had a chance to look at who it is – someone she's done this several times over with, but whom she hasn't spoken at length for a while. "you used to be good at this, matthew. come on now."
he's spent a lot ( too much, probably ) of the day debating the purchase of a duck or two to take part -- it is for charity, after all -- but something about doing so alone still doesn't feel quite right. he's always been a better spectator than athlete in the duck derby, anyway. someone joins him on the bench and he smiles instinctively, a minute shake of his head to wake himself from his thoughts accompanying. matthew laughs as camila finishes speaking, the sound a little stilted. "only because the naming was just about the only part i was trusted to do," he clarifies. with all the seriousness he can muster with the dreaded awkwardness settling in, he studies the ducks. "that one seems to me a very distinguished gentleman," taps the nearest's head. "right? so he'd need a fancy name to match."
JACOB ANDERSON After Toledo
"soaking up the last few weeks of freedom, are we?" she falls into step beside matthew almost immediately. the crowds of bear creek had yet to poke their heads out leaving the streets unusually quiet. it was arguably her favorite time of day. / @aevumfm
"oh, like an increasingly desperate sponge," he retorts with a laugh, though it couldn't be further from the truth. there's plenty at the school over break to keep him busy, but he much prefers the place bustling. "out looking for any particular worms this morning, fellow early bird?"
kenny: yes. i got him a bowl. kenny: i'm not sure it's his fault. or, well, it kind of is but i don't blame him to take advantage of free food. kenny: it's okay for him to eat shredded chicken, right?
matthew: oh, he'll do that alright. i get the sense that food is just about the only reason he does anything. matthew: shredded chicken is spoiling him, more than okay. you really don't have to feed him, though. he doesn't pester you, does he?
@aevumfm
kenny: your cat snuck in again. kenny: sorry, jamie has just corrected me: george has snuck in.
matthew: again? meaning this has happened before? matthew: i am SO sorry. i think he's becoming a teenager prematurely. matthew: feel very free to shoo him out. or i can come and get him, it's no problem.
who: open where: anywhere horse-related
There was no denying Kat's job required a level of physical stamina that few could contend with. Bent under horses, one of their legs balanced between her own, hammering the steel shoes into the perfect shape for each individual hoof... It was exhausting, hot work, and in the heat of summer, Kat was grateful for the shade they were utilising. Putting the horse's hoof back down, the woman straightened, back of her hand swiping across her brow. "Halfway done." Spoken to both the horse and the human nearby.
he'd thought about waving on his way past the yard on the outward section of his walk, but seeing her engrossed and hard at work, opted not to. matthew didn't make the same sensible decision on his way past again on the return, but kat was surely used to his penchant for pestering those he cared about by now. "oh, great stuff," he squinted in the high sun, free hand cupped over his eyes as he watched from his deliberately chosen vantage point. a safe, respectable distance from the animal. the worker, too, he supposed. "i brought water... and granola bars, because i got hungry." he paused, lifting the bag of goodies. "and haribo peaches. you're welcome to any of it, if you want." a sharp intake of breath. "anyway. been busy, i take it?"
" yeah, now. i think i got everything i wanted. save for the lavender honey. was this close to picking a fight about the last jar, " danny jokes, obviously; he tries to keep a straight face but fails, laughs softly pretty much two seconds later. he'll get some next time around.
" dread to think what dinner time looks like at yours. you should invite me sometime, " danny says, another joke. he gets it, though, the frozen, ready meals. not everyone has the luxury of an absolutely unrestrained schedule the way he does. danny could spend his entire day cooking one dish and wouldn't have to worry about falling behind. food being his passion also helps, of course. " kidding. but hey, you're welcome to dinner any time. you're the one with a real job here, you should be taken care of. " and it probably has been danny's favorite part of the break from work he's on—being there for other people, with things as small as getting them coffee in the morning and as elaborate as inviting them over for a nine-course meal of exceptionally pretentious food, which has been so fun.
danny steers them towards his car, drops the bags in the trunk and helps his dog up to the backseat. all the excitement of this morning, the company especially, has passed and now she's just plain tired. " feel free to pick some music, " he says once they're inside, pointing at the screen on the console; it's a short drive but they should be able to squeeze in a couple songs. " been deep in motown these days, could use a change. "
"oh really?" he laughs as the other does, taking the opposite approach and schooling features into a well-practiced serious face a beat later. "you shoulda said. i taught the kid who bought it -- well i suppose he's not a kid anymore, but that's by the by -- i'm pretty sure i coulda made him hand it over with one look." the smile returns as quickly as it had disappeared, a small shake of his head accompanied as if to indicate he would never actually do that.
flashes of his worst dinners elicit a grimace and wince in spite of the crystal clear joke. there's some small comfort to be found, at least, in the fact that the real disasters were largely confined to his darkest moments. "no, no," an airy laugh, he waves a hand dismissively. "you should dread it and i'm way too nice to ever knowingly inflict that on another person." he's fairly sure anything he could cobble together in the kitchen -- including what he tentatively considers his 'best' -- would deeply offend danny's tastebuds. if not the whole man himself. "well, that's..." cuts himself off with a deep breath. "obscenely nice. but there are people in town who need it more than me." at fifty years old, and now alone, matthew thinks he should be more than capable of taking care of himself.
he finds himself waving to the contentedly situated dog, wondering how twenty-five years in an animal-loving town still hasn't managed to undo the awkwardness developed in the distinctly animal-absent first twenty-five. "that's a risky move. you usually let your passengers choose the music?" still, he keenly moves to do so, making a characteristically nostalgic choice of ghost town by the specials. "you can't go wrong with motown, though. is that what you grew up listening to?"
OPEN ( 2 / 5 ) // farmer's market in the morning
his bags have been slowly filling up, more and more with every single stall they'd passed—fresh produce mostly, obviously, it's a shame not to take advantage of the season. but to be perfectly honest, danny's sort of buying anything & everything this morning, some sort of exercise, an attempt at trying to get himself inspired enough to work on the draft of his new book. a trip to the market always works—or at least it used to. he's not so sure anymore. worst case scenario, he's gonna have a fridge full of ingredients he'll have to turn into food so it doesn't go to waste. and then his friends will be able to take advantage.
" want to come to mine for brunch? " he asks, just a casual suggestion thrown at them as they stroll around. he's got mouse on her leash, calmly trotting by his side. " i've been mostly eating out this week, i need to actually cook. "
matthew's singular bag, on the other hand, remains pitifully empty. though not completely, so as not to waste ( though he'd never really consider any time spent with a friend a waste ) the meander around the market. there are several mangoes as his favourite fruit, some common vegetables, and one or two things he's unashamed to say were picked purely because danny chose them first. it makes sense to follower a leader so knowledgeable, surely?
he straightens up from the perusal of another stall, freezing in his tracks a moment at the kind offer extended. "oh!" lips twist to one side then form a smile. "like, now?" a slightly pointless question, he realises, given that the answer is absolutely yes, given the alternative is a silent prayer that there is something still edible in his own fridge. "that'd be great, actually. i could probably... also do with a refresher on what home cooked food tastes like. the non-frozen kind, at least."
Hamish Linklater in Unicorn Store (2017)
( hamish linklater, cis man, he/him, fifty ) look who goes there! is that matthew beattie? i’ve seen them often around maple trace, which may be because they are a principal @ bear creek school. they’ve been in town for twenty-five years and i’ve known them to be compassionate but also reserved. for some reason, how soon is now? by the smiths reminds me of them, as well as rolled-up shirt sleeves, abandoned unfinished cups of coffee.
Dead Poets Society (1989) dir. Peter Weir
