beware;

Doctor Algernon Riggs—just Riggs, if you please. Thirty-one years old, professor, cryptozoologist, mad scientist, polymath.

[algernon-riggs]

gevrgie:

“would i be calling it brilliant if it wasn’t actually brilliant, dandelion?” she asked with a small raise of her brow, a serious look on her face only lasting a few moments before she smirked. “god, you’re terrible,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest like an upset little kid. “i honestly can’t tell you where we are going yet. i am just… letting my feet carry me somewhere and you are coming with me. i promise to only keep what we do tonight as a misdemeanor. no felonies will be committed. is that good enough?” she turned to him, gripping his hands and giving him a gently tug towards the door. “beer pong at the parthenon? on the parthenon?” she suggested, the idea hitting her as soon as she had already said she didn’t know what she was playing, but the idea of drinking games was tempting. “now, will you follow me?”

“I think perhaps the brilliance in your idea is being mistaken for improvisation—though we mustn’t discount the genuine genius of improv. I miss Who’s Line, Georgie, and frankly I think you would have made an excellent occasional guest star. Or overzealous audience member,” Riggs continued on even through the woman prompting him closer to the door. With all her effort and the mention of a felony, the mountain of a man slowly moved with her.

“Drinking on the Parthenon is very likely to get us arrested, and by us I mean you, and by you I mean only if you can’t run fast enough,” he said. And he sympathized—fit as he was, Riggs detested running with every fiber in his being. He theorized he would have hated getting arrested just as much, but hadn’t had the experience. Three times he came so close and with a combination of sheer dumb luck, the right words (divine intervention), and a few right connections, Riggs left each encounter without a blotch on his record. “To clarify, I am interested in illegality but from a professional standpoint I’m primarily hands off.”

[algernon-riggs]

jxstvce:

did andrew really need help in the class he was taking? no, but anytime he could find an excuse to go to riggs’s office was a good enough excuse for him. so even though the research paper that had been assigned was one of the easier assignments riggs had given them in his opinion, he just wanted to be in his office with him while he did it. he just wanted riggs, nothing more nothing less. 

“sorry, i didn’t know you were taking a nap without me.” he flashed his sweet smile at the man and closed the door behind him, setting his backpack down on the floor by the couch and sitting on the other end. even though what they were doing was totally wrong, andrew couldn’t help but get butterflies in his stomach at the sight of the man, nor could he help the pink blush that would show up on his cheeks. 

riggs had an effect on him. he didn’t know if it was good or bad, but it was something andrew wasn’t ready for. he had never felt this kind of connection before and it was kind of scary. “well, considering i’m almost done with the paper, i’d be more than happy if your help was a bit more hands on.” he smirked at the professor and pulled his laptop out of his backpack, oddly enough not even feeling wrong about what he had just said to riggs. nothing felt wrong, but he knew it was morally wrong in so many ways.

“I didn’t intend to nap,” Riggs admitted. “I was grading the quizzes from Monday—got a call from the department head and after an hour of that I was.. depleted.” ‘Ready to not be conscious’ was probably more accurate. Caitlin Latz was notoriously high strung and known for a penchant towards micromanagement, which didn’t bode well with Riggs not because of any sort of laziness or sloppiness—he simply did his work in his own way in his own time. For years Latz attempted to get him on “the same page” as the rest of the department, when the truth of the matter was the doctor sat lightyears ahead of their research. Staff meetings felt like babysitting infants discovering light sockets, and if it wasn’t for his current benefits Riggs wouldn’t be part of it.

“I’m sure you would, Mister Pierce.” He eyed the hardware with slight distain and clicked his tongue. “Did you not bring a hardcopy?” He asked. Riggs was particularly old school in insisting hard copies of all assignments. He didn’t do digital—or rather he did, he just had enough of it between school-work and work-work he insisted on being fussy when elements were otherwise incorporated into his life. Rough drafts of essays and lab reports, for example, he wouldn’t read unless they were printed out and handed to him. (And even then he was difficult with getting rough drafts back—the only benefit Andrew had was the man kept him company far more than anyone else on campus.)

“Give it here, Pierce.” He grasped his glasses and positioned the lenses as he willed the remaining sleep to ebb from his body. “Did you bring food?” He asked, suddenly very aware of the pain gurgling within his gut.

[nyindra]

lets do an honesty hour ask me anything

[dancysource]

[x]

[algernon-riggs]

olliivcr:

@ollivcrr·

oliver grinned, “in the latter? the begging?” he asked, eyebrow raising in amusement as he kept his eyes on the other male. as the other continued to speak, there was an urge to chuckle, but he kept it to himself. that was, until the other finished speaking completely. “so tonight you want to embody the mindset of the student?” he took a small step towards the other before letting his arm wrap around his shoulders as they walked, “as a student myself, i think i can help with that, professor,” he teased. oliver let his arm fall only so that he could pull the door open to the bar and let the other walk in before following. his eyes scanned the scene. not too crowded, but it was still early.

“what would you like to drink, babe?” he asked, blue hues back on him as he leaned his elbows against the bar. the bartender approached them and oliver ordered himself a whiskey straight before waiting on riggs to order.

“The begging,” Riggs gave in short confirmation. “Are you studying somewhere in soft academia?” He followed with immediate interest when the mention of college was brought about. “Not that there’s anything particularly wrong with humanities, history, literature, sociology, psychology,” he listed (riddled with his personal opinion on the matter) as they walked into the nearest bar. It was conveniently placed, and best of all, Riggs didn’t have to decide where exactly they were going off towards. “Or art,” he added with slight emphasis. How could he ever forget that area?

Following Oliver’s order, the professor requested scotch on the rocks—something he would undoubtedly nurse over the next ten minutes. Seven drinks—who was he kidding? After two or three he’d be leaning on the other enacting his own drunken humanities lessons in Greek mythology or rambling about Giorgio Tsoukalos’ inaccuracies, and nobody really wanted that.

“So,” Riggs continued as his fingers found their way around the cold glass. “What’re your top three favorite things you’ve seen, done, or heard thus far?” 

[hannibooby]

[algernon-riggs]

yourfirstsnow:

The answer caught Snow off guard, but his eyes stayed stuck on Riggs in a calm and very much attracted manner. As if this gaze belonged to no one and nothing else. Perhaps spurred by the fear that this truly wasn’t reality. That Riggs would vanish if Snow turned away. The scientist eased off with a joke which coaxed a wider grin out of Vinson who looked like an innocent overgrown preteen boy with how exhilarated he felt beneath the surface. The tired, laziness, pillowed beneath his eyes faded away. The age marks, scars, didn’t appear so deep. He was lit up.

“Vacation? No way.” Snow huffed in disbelief, voice lowered to emphasize how skeptical he felt toward the word coming from Riggs’ mouth. Both hands pocketed, a somberness returned to the old soldier’s face. He was lost to the man’s words that were many when compared to Vinson’s nature. Though Snow didn’t often say as much, Riggs summed things up better than he ever could hope. “This happenstance… maybe.”

Snow mapped Riggs’ face out despite the fact he’d never forgotten the vision. Artists couldn’t forget. More than bone structure, but an essence, and though Riggs’ words tugged at Snow’s heart strings Vinson had to admit the man did look healthy. Happy. “‘could always use the company.” Snow nodded, steady, cocking a crooked smirk that wasn’t comprised of arrogance at all however much it tried to convey otherwise. “You know what a lonely guy I am. … ‘come on, let’s get a snack in town. Sound good?”

There was rarely a detail that escaped his astute gaze—and if it seemed like Riggs missed something it was likely because the doctor wanted it to appear so. The focus and quick study helped the man control his environment and the people around him, and eased him though one might not think it by the way he prattled on so endlessly. It was why he knew he had Snow then even after their lengthy separation, and he knew, too, he only needed to press a button or two to curl the man around his fingers. But that was only half the point, and couldn’t accurately sum up why Riggs felt a sort of dizziness when Snow eyed him so. It was an equal dismantling, the professor decided, and quickly after concluded it wouldn’t remain as such.

“That sounds perfect,” Riggs said, and as if on cue his stomach rumbled in agreement. Far too often the man became so engaged in one thing or another he lost track of time and quickly went hours and then a day or two without properly eating. His work was too important to pause, and here he was too enthralled with the culture and life pervading the country.

“Lonely,” Riggs emphasized suddenly as though it was the note Snow ended on. “I don’t know if I’d peg you for lonely so much as a purposeful hermit—selective hermit, even. You don’t seem terribly lonesome after you’ve had a drink or two in you—a regular social butterfly, though I suppose it isn’t exactly healthful of me to prescribe alcohol as a social lubricant.” A pause was quickly followed by a short squint before he started walking alongside Snow.

“It is though, isn’t it? Societal lube. Is it too early to grab a drink, or do we abide by vacation rules where there are none? I’d hate to drink you under the table so soon and leave your poor liver screeching for mercy.” The opposite. Riggs was a lightweight when it came to all recreational substances, alcohol most definitely included. He’d often voice a need for seven drinks, and find himself three sheets to the wind after one and a half.

[algernon-riggs]

@jxstvce​

“I thought I said sometime after five—“ Riggs halted himself in what seemed like an impossible task for a man who suffered from what his little sister used to not so affectionately refer to as “word vomit”. His green-blue gaze rolled over to the clock mounted against his office wall and, and very slowly his brows crinkled into a small frown. “..I see it’s seven thirty-seven,” he admitted.

“That’s.. later than I intended to sleep.” His way of apologizing—and silently he was thankful Andrew hadn’t been right on time at five o’ one. What began as an intended twenty minute snooze quickly evolved into a four hour nap, which would likely have further developed into a full night’s sleep if his student hadn’t come knocking.

With a grunt he pushed himself up upon the worn leather couch—not an ideal substitute for a bed, and yet Riggs couldn’t accurately count the nights he utilized it as such and stayed overnight on campus rather than driving home. “You’re fortunate I have an affinity for you, Mister Pierce, else I’d remind you my office hours end at eight o’clock.” He was teasing but it was difficult to pick apart under the layers of sleep still caught in his throat. “Did you bring your research paper, or are we engaging in a little more hands on learning?” The professor found himself on a slippery slope with the younger man, and well within an area outside of his expertise.

[technoceanic]

moodboard: cryptid hunting

[kisswithatear]

[gevrgie]

“life is a lot more fun when you ditch the brochures,” she stated, standing up from her spot on the couch in the lobby of the hotel. “and it’s even better at night. come on. i have a brilliant idea,” she stated, already walking towards the doors of the hotel to exit and head towards their destination she had in mind. “don’t chicken out on me just yet,” she called out.

[algernon-riggs]

“How brilliant is your brilliant idea?” Riggs asked, not moving a foot towards the door until he heard more. “At the very least give me some sort of ballpark. I don’t do surprises, only bets and drinking games.” When his late husband surprised him—the one time—with a birthday party, Riggs sucker punched him and left a bruise lasting two weeks. He was rarely physically violent, but surprises brought out a select sort of primality in him. A tight smile pulled across his face and he added, “You know and I both know better than to follow you all willy-nilly.”

[jxstvce]

“do you think there are any zoos in athens?” andrew has always loved going to the zoo, and now that they were in a new country he wanted to find one even if it killed him. “if we find one will you please go with me?”

[algernon-riggs]

“They do, actually—the Attica Zoological Park,” Riggs said as he was pulled from his private reverie. The information had been carefully stored away from when he researched Greece for the trip. He enjoyed zoos and aquariums almost as much as he enjoyed museums of science and medicine. With the former, he mentally stored away possible material and combinations for later experiments, and with the latter he admired work of great men and women within his field and similar branches. Information coupled with the challenge to surpass those before him—and Riggs never backed down from a challenge, even one given from himself to himself.

“Since you’ve asked so nicely, yes we can.” He wondered how long they could play this game—casual acquaintances. It was one Riggs was used to, truth be told. Skimming over awkward former sexual tension while simultaneously creating more was one of the man’s strong suits, surprisingly enough. The pen formerly twisting in his hair dropped onto the table and he patted his pocket to assure himself of two necessities—cellphone and wallet. “Are you ready?”

[algernon-riggs]

yourfirstsnow:

The whites of Snow’s teeth shone. It was nothing he could help when Riggs teased him so. “We’ve got a long trip ahead of us, maybe some things will improve–if you keep up with me.” Now he was being an ass on purpose. There was nothing wrong with stirring a bit of competitiveness from the doctor. Snow was still very much a student himself especially in the realm of art that he didn’t have the chance to publicly enjoy and practice in his youth.

A frown dawned on Snow as he momentarily fell into thought, “I’d say that’s a good answer, but this is my one pack of markers at the moment. Felt tip. I’d hate to ruin them over fast dry acrylics.” Vinson sighed. “I much prefer oils anyway.” Not that this was an appropriate setting for that medium without an easel set up at least. “Hmm…” He stared out at the shoreline. It was typical of Riggs to offer up the stakes. Have Snow dig his own grave. “It is… legal to be naked on these beaches, right? ‘least down to trunks. Loser has to skinny dip.” What exactly was the wager?

“Keep your markers, then,” Riggs said. “And I’ll continue on with the paints.” It wasn’t often Riggs dabbled with such a medium—with any art beyond sketches done in pen when he was biding him during exams. To be fair he did occasionally play with charcoal, and that was only to expand upon the monstrous chimeras he dreamed about and planned to create—and often did. His successes were not as great as he desired, but still, there were beasts in his basement that truly shouldn’t exist.

“The best piece of art—we survey twenty persons walking by and ask each to decide between our finished product. The person with the most votes wins, and the loser skinny dips,” Riggs proposed. “I think it’s simple enough—try not to let your ego become too bruised when you lose, Snow. As a professional artist I can imagine it will be rather daunting to lose to a man of science.” 

His words were meant to egg Snow on and the truth really was that Riggs has zero confidence he would win the battle. Too often the man was enraptured by Snow’s creations, and it was one of the main reasons he had a permanent piece inked onto his body.

“Is it a requirement to paint the landscape?” Riggs followed. “I’m much more adept with anatomical subjects. A beach is a beach is a beach—the human form is so much more.. unique.” Dissectible was more accurate, if he was being honest with himself.

[yourfirstsnow-archive]

“Nah, I actually think it’s pretty cute; you fancying yourself an artist.“ Tired of simply basking out at the beach, Snow started bringing art materials with him to the sandy coast. He had a goal in mind to paint at least once per location though landscapes weren’t really his thing. A challenge was worth practicing. “What would you wanna use? Markers? Paint?”

[algernon-riggs]

“..Frankly, I’m a little offended,” Riggs said in turn as he fixed his glasses. "I'm a... decent enough artist." A fleck of white paint stained the side of his lenses, but it wasn’t enough to detour him from his task. “You’d make a dreadful teacher. Hardly encouraging at all.”

“Can’t I use both..?” He asked a moment later. “Unless it’s against the rules—are there rules in art, though? Or is it more like a continuous episode of Who’s Line where the rules are made up and the points don’t matter.” Another short lived pause. “Not to say I don’t enjoy a little friendly competition,” he said. Devious lips curled up around the edges in a telling sign some filthy thought lingered in his mind. “What do you feel like betting this time, Snow?”

[sirenja-and-the-stag-deactivate]

HUGH DANCY EDIT [43/?]

[algernon-riggs]

yourfirstsnow:

Of course, Neil didn’t recognize the voice. Not at first. Most talk spent between clattering of keys on his side, yet words… words somehow carried further through the screen when returned to him. That was what Riggs was made of, after all, and he would be nothing without a meaningful long winded statement. Still, Snow couldn’t capture it now, realize. Last he’d heard the voice, first, it had been distant from his ear for a mere ten minutes and then never far afterward. A huskiness, light as air–spared of stammering–honest as Snow’s haunted consciousness. Perhaps if he’d felt the slight moisture of the doctor’s breath, maybe, something would have sparked recognition. Proof of a physical awareness cutting sharper than anything that could be read. Perhaps it was because the pair had spent so much time addressing their relationship the opposite way from miles and through touch pads.

it took seeing Riggs to understand, yet the soldier was certain–resolute–that this could only be a trick of the eye. A mad dream. “… Riggs?” He asked, face sunk slightly due to surprise and uncertainty. What was that? A tease? Snow stepped forward, while Riggs went along with the joke and removed his phone. Even at the risk of the man capturing a few less than flattering shots, Snow laughed and reached forward to push the device aside to get at the man’s arms. “You ass, stop. What are you–… I…” Snow stopped himself. Forced. “What are you doing here?” It had been awhile, was all of the doctor’s business finished back in the states?

Sure enough, Riggs made sure to click the screen with a rapid fire before he quickly pocketed the device once more. It was difficult to keep the bought of laughter from his throat—after all, Snow’s was always infectious. How long had it been since they had actually seen each other face to face, physically with one another? Slow burning days bled into months and maybe those months made it to a year—the doctor couldn’t recall, truth be told. The experiments in his lab stole away lapses of time and between touring with lectures and teaching his own students, it felt as though the bulk of the year was torn out from under him.

He did know one thing—it had been far, far too long. He knew by the warmth that rose in his belly and the pounding in his chest when Snow almost touched him.

“The same as you, I suspect,” Riggs gave the blunt reply and eased another step towards the man, very keen on closing the gap Snow left between them. “Enjoying the art,” he clarified. “In a much needed vacation—I do like the happenstance, however. Don’t you? It’s a convenient solution when you’ve found yourself missing someone terribly.” 

Without giving much pause for the other to answer immediately, Riggs continued on. “Would you mind a little walking company? You and I have some catching up to do”

[algernon-riggs]

HELLO LOVE BUGS! I’m gonna be MIA tonight because I’m headed to a concert (if you haven’t listen to The Wrecks please go do it now your ears will thank you) BUT, I’ll be back in full swing on Friday through the weekend & completing buttloads of graduate work! If you wanna plot pLEASE come at me I’m open for any and all connects with Riggs && Elisabeth! <3  Give this text post a little like over there and I'll come to ya too!