art thou feeling it, mr. krabs?

penned by pea. age 36. timezone: pst pronouns: she/her dedicated blog for go-cavaliershq!

[angstfactory]

navigation.

PLAYED BY PEA - 37, PST, no triggers, always open to plots.

ABOUT JESSE. - 36, alumna, owns carroll's salvage. ABOUT FITZROY. - 31, newcomer (ish), heir. ABOUT CLAUDIO. - 27, alumna, stage actor/stage hand.

BY REQUEST; ABOUT MATEO. - 47, newcomer, owns customs by 'teo. ABOUT LILITH. - 29, newcomer, postal clerk. ABOUT MICKEY. - 34, alumna, funeral director (fixer). ABOUT GRAYSON. - 40, newcomer, owns cowabunga surfs.

RETIRED; ABOUT NEYLANI. - 44, alumna, sheriff's deputy.

[angstfactory]

@tristan--kasnoff

Ultimately, they had decided not to spend the day cooped up in the attic, feeling like a terrible friend and sorry for themselves. But Claude hadn't wanted to go back out to join the celebration, either. Instead, they checked with a couple of friends, until one turned out to be available: Tristan.

Now, they found themselves on a surf board in the ocean, with a rash guard shirt sticking to their skin like spandex and swim trunks on. One of the few out there fully covered, because they were uncomfortable about their body. "Um.." They shifted so they were sitting up on the board, legs straddled it, their attention on the other man trying to teach them how to surf. "I know I'm a novice here and everything but... don't we need some waves to make this work?" Claude bit down on their bottom lip, trying to prevent a smile, but the amusement was there in their tone. "It's not very... wavy today.." Now they cupped their hands over their mouth, to stiffle the giggles. Of course it wouldn't be windy when they were wanting to surf!

[angstfactory]

PRIDEFEST DRABBLE

They wanted to be out there, in celebration with everyone else. All the allies that suddenly came out of the woodwork to make it known they were here. Honestly, the sheer number was enough to make Claudio wonder if there weren't more people these days who no longer aligned themselves with traditional beliefs. It almost felt safe, to go outside and blend into the rejoicing crowd, which seemed almost fever pitch this year, perhaps in part due to the harrowing political climate. As if everyone had decided to come out in full force and repudiate the nasty, ugly, vile, and just plain hateful steps back the entire country seemed to have taken in the past year alone.

But, Claude stayed just far enough outside of it. Maybe when they were fully comfortable with themselves, completely honest with their friends... They could try for next year, or the one after.. however long that may take. Right now, it felt as if they were some imposter, that didn't quite understand where they fit or if they even did. They wanted to. But wanting wasn't always enough. There were too many unanswered questions in themself.

Why, they wouldn't even know which flag was theirs. What to consider themselves. How to explain the way they felt on the inside, or how to rectify it to match with their outside. If any of that would even make sense to someone else.

All of that, the very reason they lost their family. Who else would they lose, when they finally did have the answers? It seemed the only best and safe option, was to stay as they were. Why risk it? They already didn't have much in this world, but they had their friends. Even the old ones were coming around more often again, now that Ashton and he managed to reach out and smooth the waters. Claudio could easily resent these people, maybe a tiny part did deep down, but a bigger part overwhelmed that with the exhale of relief. So much had been missing and slowly, it was slowly piecing itself back together. Much of what happened was their own fault, so they couldn't blame anyone, they could forgive it, and they had to understand the last ten years were consequences. Now, all they truly cared about was fanning the flames of repairing it, salvaging whatever they could and moving forward, to something new. Maybe they would be his family now.

"You don't have a flag?" Some little girl, maybe half their age, wandered up. "Here, you can have mine." She pushed a rainbow-colored stick flag their way, which Claudio took, not to be rude, with a quiet, "Gracias." Her parents shuffled her past with mild, apologetic stares that she'd bothered him at all.

They stared down at the flag. Fingers gently smoothing over the coarse material, the different, represented colors. Maybe it was okay they didn't know everything. Wasn't this a symbol basically for that?

Laughter caught their attention. Only because they recognized it. There was laughter and chatter going on everywhere, but this laugh... Naturally, they smiled just to hear it, but when they spotted Asher like a Where's Waldo in the crowd, they noticed he didn't look alone. Honestly, they wouldn't have expected him to be, with the social butterfly that he is, any number of people could have been present and they couldn't expect him to just hang out with them all the time, either. But this was a priest they didn't recognize, they hadn't been to church since the new priest started. Their smile dulled, their brows knit together. Wondering if they were simply imaging that they were standing a little too close, staring a little too much, smiling a little too wide. But then someone moved, and they noticed the two were holding hands.

Fresh confusion blossomed immediately, deep in their chest. Just how many people did Asher like? Or did he even actually like anyone? Or did he just like everyone? Was it all just fun and games? First Hattie... then Evie... now, this priest... They simply didn't understand and it was so jarring and off-putting in that moment, they had to turn and rush away what little pull to join the celebration gone, before they were discovered like some spy. Asher had told them how important connection was, how much it hurt to have Aspen assume he'd sleep with her like it was nothing. What was his relationship with these other people? Did he connect with all three of them then? Was he dating all three of them? Were there more?

And if he is? It's got nothing to do with you. They didn't know what to think and feel anymore. They'd never paid so much attention to this man and now, they wished they could stop. Everything didn't feel quite as bothersome, when they were blissfully unaware, when he was just their friend. He still was just their friend.

Jealousy was such an unpleasant emotion. Worse than confusion. Worse than yearning. It made them feel like a shitty person. That they couldn't just stand aside and let their friend be happy, doing whatever it was he wanted to do, without feeling this uncomfortable upset.

They paused outside the studio, ready to go back up and hide again. Staring back down at the pride flag in their hand. Knowing that nobody, least of all a wandering Asher, was going to love someone that couldn't even figure out which color they were on it.

[erusso]

Elio & Jesse | @angstfactory

[touchofmxgic]

Now Darcy really did have to hold themselves back not to burst out laughing, Pirate 'Teo of the Silver Bullet, what a ridiculous notion, this poor guy was really going through it." Alright grandpa whatever makes you feel happy, you can have your delusions and take half the space." A chuckle escapes them as they took a sip of their new drink.

"Oh, yes, of course, definitely not riled up. Irritated as any rational man that has had a few drinks in him." Darcy shakes their head, cold glass resting on their lower lip." Oh not for me, I'm amused. I didn't think it would take so little to push your buttons and yet here we are." The professor hums." You're really bad at this, but it's cute that you're trying." They offer him a smile." I can wallow and poke at you, I'm great at multitasking."

[angstfactory]

"I'm forty-seven," he ground out, but there was a hurt look in his gaze, "and I have no children or grandchildren.. so, just stop it. You're being hateful and what have I done to you? I'm not the reason you're here, wallowing." Mateo could only tolerate so much, the punches to his age were quite bothersome and another one might have him abandon the bounty he'd so claimed to get away from them.

He took up his glasses, fixing them back on. "I've only had the two, I just got here, they haven't even settled in me yet before you started on your nonsense." Mateo shifted away slightly, presenting more of a cold shoulder to Darcy. "Or I could simply ignore your existence entirely, and enjoy my solitude as you should have yours. Show you how it's done properly, where the destruction of your neighbor isn't necessary. You're great at being mean, is what you are."

[laurens-german]

MIKA ABDALLA and STEPHEN KALYN as Allie Hayes and Dean Di Laurentis — OFF CAMPUS 01.02 'The Practice'

[aspenreynolds]

@angstfactory ft; Mickey

[touchofmxgic]

" A pirate plundering half of my space." Darcy muses taking a sip of their own drink as if considering the strangers declaration to be true or false, as if they were a judge." If you say so, you aren't a very good pirate, doing a terrible job." The professor gestures for the bartender to get themselves another mocktail, they had no plans on leaving, not now when they had found such interesting company.

That.. well, you..

Darcy waited, it seemed their little comment had struck harder than expected leaving the man speechless." Go on, I believe that you can manage a few words." They finish the drink, setting the glass back on the counter.

your delicate features lie.

Another laugh escapes them, hiding their face for a moment before glancing back to him amused " I never said that you were pathetic, you came up with that all on your own. I find you to be very amusing actually, getting all riled up." Darcy points at him." I am wallowing never stated other wise, as for my features, well, that's on you for assuming any different." They hum, leaning ever so slightly closer to him." If I'm so unpleasant why are you still sitting here? You could leave, unless you actually enjoy being pushed. Perhaps a sort of punishment?"

[angstfactory]

"There is nothing wrong with my piracy," Mateo defended, aghast, spreading his hands wider on the counter like he was seconds away from standing up and demanding an old-fashioned duel, "as I'm here, am I not?! I've claimed half this space for my own, and you've done nothing to defend it, so I'd say I'm a perfect pirate, already doubled half my bounty. Pirate 'Teo of the Silver Bullet, aho!" And with that, he took his second drink to cheers himself and finish it off much as he had the first.

His face flushed, giving the other a miserable sort of look because he knew there wasn't anything to say in defense of himself there. He was old. And gray. At least, however, he was in better shape these days. Not the best he's ever known, he wasn't a fit eighteen year old, but joining that gym several months back had given him back something of a sleeker build. Not quite as plushy as before, but certainly not ribbed up, either. He'd been perfectly happy with those results, until this stranger had to pick on his grays!

"I'm not riled, I'm irritated," he corrected, taking off his glasses to rest them on the counter. His elbows stayed on the top, fingers massaging into his brow as if Darcy was providing him a massive headache. "Yes, a punishment on you," he shot back. "Seeing as how my simple presence has you up in arms, declaring an entire section of bar to yourself like I'm some.. some.. well, some thing, I don't know!" Mateo made a flippant gesture, giving up on trying to come up with anything good because he was too frustrated to think straight. "Didn't you want to wallow in peace? Why bother me then? I would have sat here in silence and you'd have your precious solitude."

[touchofmxgic]

continued from here // @angstfactory

Darcy was taken a back, they hadn't expected such a passionate call out." I'm pretty sure Rude is my middle name." It was prefect for them, this was an open invitation for them to continue on being unpleasant, in fact it humored them, just what they needed for the night.

" What if it is my space? " The professor tilts their head to the side." My name can be carved on this very counter and you wouldn't even know it." They study the man, swirling the drink in their hand in a slow motion, whoever this was interested them." My entire area."

Darcy chuckles at the comment thrown their way." A whisp of a person? Such colorful wording. Maybe you've had a few too many to drink…" They pause grin growing on their lips, a mischievous glint behind their eyes. "Old man." They were probably around the same age but they felt like poking them further, see where it took them. " I'm not offering any help but it's clear that you need it or you wouldn't be drinking. From one look I can see that you are drowning in misery and barely holding it together."

[angstfactory]

"Well I didn't ask for your name, now did I?" Mateo refuted back, "In fact, I should prefer not to know anything about you, considering how distasteful you are, but even then, I'm not surprised if it is your name as it's quite suitable!" Now, normally, he was nothing less than a polite, possibly even stutteringly shy man that simply spoke out his thoughts without a second consideration of them. Tonight, he was visibly stressed and upset, this stranger so obviously having stirred those nerves with barely a push.

Mateo could have easily walked off, found a different spot where he could drown his miseries in peace... But then, when the other went on about how this might very well be their space, their entire area, he gestured for a second drink and promptly planted his bottom on the stool right there. "In that case, I'm a pirate, and I'm plundering half your space as my own," he declared. Petulantly. Not of a man forty-seven years. Which the other landed a direct hit at.

His lips parted, a look crossing his features like Darcy might as well have struck him. A hand coming up, fingers self-consciously brushing over the many salt-and-pepper whiskers over his cheeks and chin, and then through the matching straggles of hair at his scalp. "That.. well, you.." Mateo stumbled and struggled to find any words, as he was quite aware that he must truly be in some midlife crisis for the way he dropped his entire life in Salem to move across country to Carroll, pursuing a completely unrelated field to what he'd done for decades, and now this perfect stranger pegged him. "You're the one wallowing!" he burst out, throwing a hand up, "you said so yourself! So if I'm pathetic and old, what does this make you?" Upset, he leaned into the counter and reached for his second glass. "You're unpleasant. A wolf in sheep's clothing, your delicate features lie."

[touchofmxgic]

open for anyone! (0/4) location: Silver Bullet Pub

Darcy had kept themselves mostly at home, work was busy enough and the reception had taken more from them than they first assumed.

Tonight the professor found themselves at the pub with a mocktail, no drinking for a while, they had enough champagne for a lifetime and the prospect of another hangover was not something they wanted. Darcy heard steps coming closer, rolling their eyes." Can't you see that I'm wallowing." They just couldn't help it, complaining came naturally." What do you want?"

[angstfactory]

Five months in Carroll have been nothing but stress and setbacks for Mateo. Not to mention disappointments. Elian was there and yet, still, they weren't. Not really. At this point, Mateo had to accept the inevitable that theirs was not a fated alignment. Probably should have taken that hint ten years ago. Such things were easier said than done, of course, with how his active imagination frequently betrayed him with daydreams and yearnings. And, if that weren't enough, his carpentry shop was still not opened. Mateo, ever the master at procrastination because of delays and distractions, continued to lay waste to his increasingly dwindling pile of savings to harbor a store that's garnered no return yet.

What shall he do?!

Drink. Mateo wasn't much of a drinker, yet this had to be the fifteenth night in a row he rushed into the Silver Bullet and gestured, immediately, for a glass of one of those Japanese whiskeys he'd recently acquired a taste for. The bartender already knew him now, had the pour in a glass and slid across to the harried gent, by the time someone at his side spoke up. "That was... quite rude," Mateo's head balked back, pushing his glasses up his nose with a look of affront, turning to look over at this person. "Is this.. your space? Your entire area?" the carpenter demanded, at his wits end, as his arms splayed out to indicate the bar. "You're a whisp of a person, you can't allow a single, solitary soul within your immediate airspace?! Absolutely atrocious of you," he chided of their behavior, before grabbing his glass and downing it down in one fluid gulp. "I should think.. you need to learn some manners, because... well, because you have no idea the kind of day someone is going through and maybe you stomped all over mine, how about? How dare you. As if I needed the help!"

[fuorirete]

Despite the differences that had cost the pair her a lot of frustration, they got along surprisingly well. Desire and some magnetic charm that kept them in each other's orbit was something Elby couldn't deny and, with the drinks she had had, it was impossible to even try. For this one evening, she decided she wouldn't care about anything at all. She just wanted to have fun.

And maybe she got carried away a little... unlike her?

She focused on his closeness so much, that she was almost surprised by the disappointment that washed over her when he pulled away an inch too far, his face not close enough for her to steal another kiss. Damn, she had felt that before and look how it ended for her?

This wasn't the reaction she had expected from Gray, yet she didn't feel as though he had turned her down. There was no burning embarrassment in that moment, just a little confusion that she probably did a poor job of hiding as she looked up at Grayson.

"Too much? Not a turn on?" She sounded so concerned she could as well pull out a notepad and start jotting down his suggestions. She grimaced. "Oh no, a turn off...! Shit." But the same substance that had helped Elby utter the bold words now protected her from feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed, and she just played along. A perfect ego-numbing amount of Espresso Martini.

With both hands still resting on Gray's butt - mostly because it was comfortable to keep them there - she just leaned forward to sink her cheek into his chest.

Just an innocent, uncomplicated dance where you can be mine, and I can be yours, tonight.

She liked the sound of it. A little too much, too. Maybe that's why she had tried to downplay the whole thing and make it about just sex again, so she didn't even get a chance to feel that something that always came with the warmth of his arms around her frame. However, it wasn't anything that scared her away. Gray's invitation didn't wait long for acceptance. "Let's dance," she agreed with a soft smile, sounding much more like herself. "Not because I wouldn't want to-... But maybe it's just about being around you." Surprisingly, this was something she might wish had remained unsaid. Especially the part where she whispered, "Maybe I want to be sure that you can be mine, and I can be yours, tonight..."

[angstfactory]

His brows came together some, though a smile was still on his face. "Turn off.. no, Elby, it's just not you," Grayson explained, as to why the entire moment had taken him out. "I'm just.. not used to you saying things like that," or acting that forward. It felt like she was playing at someone she thought he wanted her to be, and that couldn't be further from the truth.

As her head rested in on his chest, Gray's hand came to encircle her arm in a loose, but meant to be comforting, grip. Holding her steady for the moment, until she regained whatever confidence she needed to keep plugging forward. "It's not a big deal," he murmured for her ears, wanting her to know she hadn't done anything wrong. There wasn't anything for Elby to beat herself up over. Definitely not over him, that's for sure.

A grin came back to his face. "Good, 'cause I want to be around you too," he told her, readily. Truthfully. And maybe he hadn't thought about that until he saw her again here, in Carroll. It'd been a while since they last had their run-ins. Now was as good a time as ever to have another, right? That sounded mighty fine to him. So, he found both her hands and walked backwards towards the dancefloor, unwilling to take his eyes off her. "You can be sure," Grayson told her, pulling Elby in closer and putting arm around around her waist, to keep her there against him with no apologies, "that I'll be yours tonight." His face hovered in close to hers, forehead to forehead, nose-to-nose just about. "I've missed hanging out with you, Elbs," he told her softly, the other arm coming in around her, nice and snug, not even caring if this song was for something higher tempo.

[aggierobshaw]

Problems.

The word her eyes sliding shut as if it would block out the very notion, because Aggie knew they're baby would be perfect and strong and beautiful, there was no room for anything else without sending her spiralling. Even if she knew it was true. She'd refused to think of the worst cases, reused to even give them a moment of her energy because to acknowledge felt like invitation and maybe Lilith's superstitions were rubbing off on her, but she didn't want to risk inviting any negativity into her heart or their pregnancy. Now he wanted to force her, and she needed to hear it, but both those things meant she had to admit she knew. Had to admit she was scared.

"Our baby will be perfect." She was stalwart, almost defensive in her tone, hands lifting to rest protectively on her stomach, fingers spread like a dream catcher trying to ward off nightmares. She wanted to reassure him, to feed him her certainty of this point. "We are doing everything, Fitz. I have the doctor on speed dial, I avoid the foods, I take the vitamins. Sitting and worrying over the worst case doesn't help, it... It's just feeding that negativity back into the universe... Into the ether around him." Okay now she was sounding like Lily but it didn't matter. "We're supposed to be dreaming together now. Planning our future... Planning his. Not waiting for-" For the other shoe to drop.

His interpretation of her feelings for Emily brought a deep thigh that had her shoulders first lifting than falling further than where they'd started. "But I don't." The words the very embodiment of her exasperation. "Maybe I was jealous of her a little... Because of how you've looked at her... But I never disliked her. I even tried, you know, to reconcile with her, apologized for our past, for everything. Took so much accountability. She didn't want it. It's her right, because I'm the one who messed up all those years ago and all the years since by waiting so long to try and make it right... But she's the one who doesn't like me." And sometimes it hurt a little when she'd feel like that didn't bother him, but she could see on his face that maybe it did.

He'd be devastated to lose Emily, she knew that, and in the end she choked back her discomfort with a hard swallow, a pasted smile, and a dismissive wave of her hand. "Of course I trust you. I trust you with my life. It's fine. I just-" Just what Agnes? She asked herself sagging as the shallow truth fell past her lips. "I feel like you've fought as hard to keep her friendship... as hard you did to push me away..." Her whisper getting a little thick with her growing emotion. "As hard as I fought for your love through it all. Why couldn't you have fought for me like that?"

As hard as he had to try and keep her heart away? That's why the auction still hurt. It hasn't been a show of his feelings to show the town and the world that he'd loved her... It'd been to try and push her away for good. A risk intended to protect her, he said, but a risk away from her rather than toward.

Head having turned unable to look at him in her own shame of her insecurities already spoken, turned to look at him as he came closer, hands not fighting him as he took them. As his confession knocked the air from her even as he broke the physical contact to turn away from her. "A will." It wasn't a question, but an acknowledgment. Watching as the weight of the world came down in his shoulders, straining to make sure that she heard every word as his lips left her sight. Processing the information before she finally spoke. "Okay." There was a strangely confident finality in her tone as she handed him the word like a gift on a platter, ignoring his question because it didn't matter anymore. "Then let's get married. Just on paper, just to protect the baby. We don't tell a soul and just forget about it... And then some day... We'll do it for real. For us."

[angstfactory]

"Our baby will be loved." That was the only thing Fitzroy knew for certain. No matter what else came, whatever happened, this baby would never know anything but a full life of love and adoration... however long that life might be. Just as his parents had loved him extra, as if to make up for the rest, for the injustice he couldn't quite have true normalcy. "But do not do that, Agnes." Fitz stared back at her with open upset. "This is not something we can just brush under the rug and pretend it doesn't exist. This is happening." Once again, a hand rested over his heart, as if she needed the physical reminder. As if he did. "This is part of me, and it may become part of them, too. It's not about negativity, about waiting for the worst things to happen, it's about planning for them." As much as he would love to lessen this impact anyway he knew how, simply pretending none of it mattered and didn't exist wasn't an option. If she loved him, then she had to love all of him, and all of him came with the bad things, too. "Our future goes hand-in-hand with all of this now, I need you to understand this," his words were soft, but firm. "If we're going to do this, we have to do all of it, because I can't just... stop dying for you, Agnes, as much as I would ever try. You can't say you want me to be open with you about what's going on and in the next breath, shove it aside. It's unsightly, I know. It's ugly. It's scary... and it's happening." He repeated those words, hoping they'd sink in with her.

As he rested his bum back on the couch, his hands moved to brace lightly on his thighs. His stare moving to the floor. "The only positives here is that I've already been through this — am going through this — so.. if she does.. if she inherits my bad parts, we won't go in blindly the way my parents had to, with me. We'll know doctors... we'll know medicines, surgeries, treatments.." That baby will find its way on a donor list as quickly as humanly possible, if Fitzroy had his way. "Whatever it takes, they will have it." He imagined his own parents had to have stood in a room like this once, so long ago, whispering back and forth to each other about what they were going to do, what this might take and the sacrifices they were willing to make. It was all truly humbling, to know how much they did love him, because he experienced it now, with this life growing inside of Agnes. How all his focus and desires for them was simply to see they were as healthy and happy as he could make them.

His gaze rose back up, to study the woman as she claimed to have attempted reconciliation with Emily. "It's not something that can be fixed overnight, you know.." Those two would not make sense to him. They had spent too long down one path that they were both quite unwilling to travel another. As much as Agnes claimed she didn't not like Emily, it wasn't true. Maybe she had no animosity, no ill will over Emily's valid feelings about how things had panned out, but Agnes still would rather the woman not be in the picture. That was loud and clear. The only reason that would be the case, was because she couldn't trust him. She said she did, but if she did, Emily wouldn't matter to her one little bit.

"Am I not fighting now?" Confusion rippled through him, registered on his face. Looking down at himself, then around the room, as his arms held aloft in the air as if to say, look at me. "I cannot change the past, I do not own a magical timepiece to go back and redo the moments I wish I could," he defended himself. "I made a whole bloody mess of the situation, Agnes, I know that, and it was all from my own fears and insecurities and secrets you didn't even know about yet. Just allowing myself the thought of having you when I felt I couldn't, was bloody torture." His hands came together, to rub over the lower half of his face once more, stressed, upset all over again over things he couldn't change. "I was an idiot, I was dramatic and drastic.. I don't know what else to say for it.. I can't.." He shook his head. "But I'm right here, now. I'm not back there with her. Does this matter nothing?" Fitzroy's hands dropped to his lap, staring at her. "If you ask me to, I will end everything, for you. If that is what you need from me, then just say the words." He would never understand it, never agree about it, never know why it was necessary, to remove anyone important in one's life like that. It'd be akin to asking her not to see her own family, like Theodore, because Teddy didn't like him. But if she asked, he'd do it, and Emily would never forgive him for it.

Agnes was no more guaranteed him than his own life. If she did ask him this, then one day decided to leave him, Fitzroy would be left without both. And that's just how it'd have to be, the gamble he would take, to show Agnes he was serious. That he was hers.

"Okay?" His brows knit together, looking back at her. Unsure what she meant because there was some kind of shift in her, especially the tone. Like Agnes had simply decided on something. None of what she just said, was anything he expected. Fitzroy's head cocked back, as he considered her. "You want to get married, but not marry me?" That all sounded so weird but, strangely, it made sense, too. They weren't going to get married, but they would be, for the baby. To satisfy the ridiculous rules of that title and money. Fitz hadn't even thought of suggesting something like that. His lips pursed into something of a smile, though. "So one day you do plan to, then." It wasn't a question, but a statement. One day, whenever they were both ready, Agnes would say yes.

[moonlightsdream]

I'm a little afraid to go in. Serena's so mad. Serena doesn't have anything to be mad about. You said so yourself. Well, maybe she does. Maybe she was right. About what? About me denying that I had feelings for you. I came to see you today to prove that I'm not in denial.

⁂ Gossip Girl (2007-2012) — s.5e.16 | Cross Rhodes⠀⠀⠀

[autumnonheels]

@angstfactory ft; Jesse

[sophie-baek]

OFF CAMPUS 1.01 "The Deal"

[aspenreynolds]

@angstfactory ft; Mickey

[stoneasher]

who: @angstfactory (fitz) where: good frequency records

asher is nervous. not the usual kind of nervous, either. not opening-day nerves, not first-date nerves, not the jittery excitement before stepping onto a stage. this is something heavier. something that has him pacing the production booth on the second floor like if he keeps moving, the feeling won’t catch up to him. he hasn’t listened to this demo since england. not all the way through and he definitely hasn’t listened to it with someone else in the room. fitz is there, and that should help. fitz makes things easier most of the time. but this doesn’t feel easy. this feels like opening a door he sealed shut with both hands and a prayer.

“so,” asher starts, then stops, ruffling a hand through his hair. “i guess i should tell you the song isn’t mine.” he lets out a breath, trying for a laugh and not quite getting there. “not really.” he keeps pacing for another second, then finally slows near the soundboard. “when i was traveling, i was producing for this band. their frontman, rowan, he was…” asher pauses, throat tightening around the name. he looks down at the floor instead of at fitz. “he was my person.” the words land soft, but they feel enormous. “and he died.”

asher doesn’t look up after that. he can’t. not yet. his fingers tap once against the edge of the console, searching for a rhythm that doesn’t come. “after the funeral, the band found this in his files. just a demo. acoustic guitar, voice note quality, nothing finished.” he swallows. “i didn’t even know it existed.” finally, asher sits down, rolling his chair closer to the laptop like distance from the file might somehow make this easier. it doesn’t. the little audio track sits there on the screen, harmless and devastating.

he glances at fitz then, eyes a little too bright. “it’s basically a love song,” he says quietly. “to me.” saying it out loud still feels impossible. like admitting it makes it more real, and making it more real makes it hurt worse. “but i don’t want to just leave it as this… sad thing i found too late.” his voice shakes a little, but he keeps going. “rowan wrote about hearing me in everything. about being tuned to me.” asher exhales, looking back at the screen. “and i think maybe i want to answer him.” he turns slightly toward fitz, the idea steadier now that he’s finally saying it.

“i want to finish it. not change what it is. not take it away from him.” he shakes his head. “just… build around it. make it bigger. make it alive.” his mouth twitches into something small and fragile. “i wanted to turn it into a love song for my friends too. use the recordings we’ve been getting. laughter, voices, dumb little moments. proof that i’m still here. that there are still people around me worth hearing.” asher looks at fitz, exposed in a way he hates and trusts all at once. “does that make sense?”

[angstfactory]

Fitz sat backwards in his chair, arms draped over the back of it as he idly, slowly, twisted in one direction and the other, knee bouncing slightly. Giving Asher the moments he needed to get whatever he needed to, off his chest. Honestly, he was fascinated, uncertain if he'd ever seen his perky, upbeat friend so sober and uneasy before. Fitzroy studied the man with a certain open curiosity that came from someone that found the average person so complex and interesting, and infinitely worth the time.

There was subtle shift in the Englishman's face, to learn about this Rowan person and what happened. That Asher had had a person. His friend was always so unattached and carefree, he could hardly imagine it or what that looked like. In fact, he only realized now that he'd never actually seen it. Asher kissed a lot of people — they had even made out on a number of occasions, just for fun — but beyond that? Fitzroy couldn't recall the man ever walking down the street hand-in-hand, belonging to someone else. The person that managed that, his person, they were gone now, and Fitz was left with a sense of disappointment, that he missed such a special part of Asher's life. The sympathy was there in his gaze, that sobriety sinking in. An ugly reminder that life wasn't promised, a fact he'd never been able to escape. He hated his friend had to go through that. Alone, too? And did his best not to focus on how Agnes may very well too.

"You know I'm a romantic soul at heart," he finally spoke, once Asher had his say and laid out his ideas, "so I believe that music is a way for us to live on." It was, perhaps, the true reason Fitz had gone so out of his way to get his hands on as many instruments as he could, to involve himself as a musician. Because it was pieces of his soul being transcribed and left behind, so he may be gone but never forgotten. His music would be his legacy, the thing always available if anyone needed him again. "Music is a conversation, so.. Let's help you finish it," he said, simply, agreeing with Asher that it should be. Would be a shame to have that man's final message go unrealized.

His hand came out, hovering over the keyboard as he looked at Asher. "First on the agenda, let's hear what we're working with," Fitz suggested, because he could see the other seemed to be having trouble to play it himself. So Fitz's tapped the play key for him.

[angstfactory]

@harrietmclaughlin

Pride month. One day, maybe Claude could feel the same kind of sense of security and eagerness to celebrate with the others. That wasn't today. They almost decided to hide out at the record shop to miss everything entirely, because walking the streets with parades and what have you going on, made them feel as if eyes were on the back of their neck. Like anyone that happened to notice them, knew already, that they were exactly the kind of misfit that belonged in these crowds. But by a certain hour, their stomach had begun to growl and made them slip outside and get something to satisfy. They blended right in, despite whatever they thought, only they couldn't shake the sense of shame if anyone in their family had spotted them. Abuela would have words and opinions, and those would drag them back.

On their way back to the studio, they did spot someone that gave them pause. Hovering, as she did, at the sideline of everything rather than active participant. Claudio had been wondering about Hattie lately, especially after the most recent tea drop, too. One moment, she was kissing Asher and the next, some older married man. They simply didn't understand what was going on anymore. None of what's come out about her, seemed very Hattie-like behavior at all. They may have never been close in school, they still weren't now, but he knew enough to know better, she was important to Asher, and in general, they cared as a fellow person. So many ugly rumors were going around about her now, painting her in the most villainous light, and Claudio couldn't see it that way. They were more concerned about why it all happened. Approaching, however, they blurted out a question, "Are you okay?" Because they felt she wasn't.

[bluexoceanxblue]

Shaking his head, Ocean replied, “No, it’s okay. I was going to see if you wanted to order something, but I can eat here.” Ocean liked to cook, but he was more of a snacker. “I’ve got some veggies I cut up earlier today I can snack on, and some homemade dip,” Ocean told Claudio. He went to the fridge and started taking everything out, making sure to get enough to share; Claudio might get hungry eventually. And this was probably better anyway, something lighter considering what they were about to do (if his friend agreed to it that was). 

Ocean had been worried about putting Claudio on the spot by assuming he’d be interested in teaching him to dance, and he was prepared to analyze his reaction to see if he was only doing it out of obligation if he agreed. But upon seeing the way Claudio responded, Ocean could tell that they truly wanted to do this. Ocean smiled, a real one, like the kind he’d smiled before Aaron, and it was the that he realized how comfortable he was with Claudio. It had happened fast too, but Ocean actually felt like maybe he could let his guard down a little bit. Even so, he asked, “Are you sure? You really don’t mind?” He wanted to give Claudio one more chance to back out. 

Now that Claudio had agreed, Ocean beamed at them, happier than he’d been in awhile. Part of him was nervous about being a bad dancer, but most of him was just grateful to his friend. “You’re the expert,” Ocean told them. “What do you think we should start with? Act like I’ve never danced a single time in my life because that’s honestly my skill level.”

[angstfactory]

"Oh, right," Claude visibly jolted, as if they just recalled an important memory, "you wouldn't have liked my sandwich anyway, it had meat on it.." Ocean being vegetarian had slipped their mind a second time, the first done at the reception. It wouldn't happen a third, because now they made a mental filing cabinet note to not forget this important fact about their new friend. If food was offered, it needed to be greens and fruit. "Sorry, I won't forget again," they promised, giving their noggin a little tap on the side of the head, a gentle smile in play.

"I don't mind at all," Claudio returned, with gumption. It was like they were born for this, to help someone else learn their passions. Maybe, if they were any decent a professor, Ocean might actually enjoy himself. Maybe, the next event they attended, he wouldn't be too scared to be silly and shake a tailfeather. As their friend prepared his meal, Claudio sized up the area they were working with. "I'm just.." they bent, giving a hefty push to the coffee table in their way, pushing it off and up against the nearest wall, "..going to make us some more room here, if that's okay? I'll put everything back the way it was when we're done." Going outside would have been ideal too, but Ocean had neighbors, and neighbors could be nosy. They felt the young man would be most comfortable in the safety of his own home, where the only other pair of eyes on him were Claudio's.

Now, they stood straight, hands on their hips in a Peter Pan-like pose. "Okay, hm... I say we start small and work our way up from there, then. Like, something where you can stay mostly in place and yet totally look like you know what you're doing." Claudio pulled out their phone to find their spotify app, because music is also helpful. "Do you care what kind of music I put on?" they asked, looking up at Ocean. "I was thinking something with a decent beat and tempo, I know a few Spanish songs that would be good but, if you got a favorite?" They gave their phone a small wiggle. "I have a lot of music, I bet I have it and if I don't, I can get it."

[thexcarrollxtimes]

The room was stifling. The soft, familiar beeps and murmurs of televisions had long been trained to tune themselves out, leaving the space around them nearly silent. Vera stared at her father as he lay motionless in the hospital bed, hooked up to machines keeping him alive. Unresponsive. Weak. Frail. Pathetic. A barely noticeable twitch at th corner of her mouth was the only proof Vera got any satisfaction at the sight, grateful for whatever suffering he'd endured to get to where he now remain - her own settled in her gut like a weight that would never lift.

Her heart began to pound as she crossed the room to stand at the side of his bed. Her breath caught in her throat a beat and she swallowed back the fear he still managed to elicit, even as dead as he was. A hand hovered over his a beat before she took hold of it, huffing softly to herself. "I fucking hate you," she told the body lying in the bed, gently tapping his hand. She swallowed back the bile that rose to her throat as she brought it to her cheek and nuzzled it to appear as the loving next of kin for the man, tears springing to her eyes with the overwhelming realization that this was the most loving Ivan had ever been to her.

She choked back the tears that tried to break free because he didn't deserve any more than he'd already had. "I hope what they say about coma patients being aware of everything going on while in their vegetative state," she said, her lips quivering and soft gag escaping her as she kissed his hand and set it back by his side. "Because I want you to know," she went on as she grabbed the room's chair and moved it closer, scooting it just a smidge more once sitting in. "I'm glad Jesse did this to you. And if I had come home earlier, I would have made sure the job had been finished before the paramedics got to you and no one would have ever known the children you love so much had been your demise," she told him bluntly, gently moving his hair away from his face. "Oh, that's right! You don't know," she gently chuckled. "I'm a nurse," she told him proudly. "Not only that but I have an amazing daughter named after my just as amazing brother. Her name is Francis. Not that you would even give a shit if you were awake, but I turned out nothing like the stupid, no-good, waste-of-space, piece-of-shit you always said I would be."

Vera finally leaned back away from him, the closeness finally too much. She couldn't fake caring this long. Her leg bounced with nerves, and her fingers fidgeted with themselves in her lap, watching them as she picked at her cuticles. Her jaw tightened, and she fought back more tears. "It is so unfair that you get this kind of fucking mercy. To die peacefully in your sleep," she spat quietly through grit teeth, refusing to look at him any longer.

Her head turned as the door opened, and she quickly wiped her eyes as the doctor made his way toward her. "Ms. Cowen?" he asked with a hand outstretched. "I'm Dr. Gill. We may have spoken on the phone?"

She rose from the seat and scooted it away from the bed, stepping around it to take the extended hand to shake, nodding in confirmation. "I got here as soon as I could but it's a long drive from Wisconsin," she chuckled gently, giving her eyes one last pat dry.

"It's not a problem Ms. Cowen."

"Vera."

"Vera. It's just matters that you're here for your father now."

She gave a false, but convincing smile, glancing back at Ivan. Father. Please.

"If I remember right, you said you were a nurse?"

Her head nodded once more in confirmation as she brought her attention back to Dr. Gill. "For almost ten years now."

"I know the reason for us meeting is terrible, but having your medical knowledge will make this so much easier for both of us," he professionally assured her. "Your father had a traumatic brain injury which triggered the shutdown of his kidney. Now we don't think the two are directly related as far as your father's kidney disease is concerned. Apparently your father has been in somewhat of a slow burn renal failure for some time now. Unfortunately he would have ended up here whether or not he had hit his head or not."

"He was a drinker so, not surprising," she admitted, gently hugging herself and toying with her necklace, swallowing back the memories of his more inebriated nights.

"That checks out about a lot more than his kidney function," he mused as he momentarily flipped through his chart, Vera slightly craning her neck to look along with him. "Now," he continued with a small sigh, letting the papers fall back flat. "As next of kin, the choice of what to do is up to you. There is a chance he could wake up on his own, but it is slim. So we can continue on with what we've been doin and keep waiting on a donor," he said with a small motion toward Ivan and the machines keeping him going. "Or we can take him off the machines and take our chances," he added, the silent elephant in the room that a decision was needed soon unneeded to be spoken aloud to hear loud and clear.

"Off the machines," she told him without hesitation.

"You can take some time to decide what direction you would like to -- "

"He has always expressly told me DNR should he ever end up like....this," she explained with a shake of her head and motion to him unresponsive in bed. "I don't need to wait. Take him off them."

Dr. Gill nodded in understanding. He shifted his papers around, pulling out a few forms. "We just need a few signatures," he told her, showing her where to sign on each page. She signed as needed and returned his pen to him.

"How, um how soon will he be unhooked?"

"Well, we have to get these forms processed, but since you know your father's wishes, we should be able to have things done in just a few hours."

She nodded once more, her hand slightly wringing. "I don't think I want to be here when it, um, happens, but I would like a call at t.o.d.," she requested quietly.

"Of course," Dr. Gill agreed just before leaving her for her final goodbye.