{ m i s h a }

forgotten morning haze, still blue on the horizons- fighting the first waft of ether ; crinkling eyes into wide toothed smiles that make hearts swoon ; sharing red wine on park benches ; tangerine glow dazzling the skies- can you hold such warmth in your hands? ; moths swarming to street lamps ; pressing palms to shoulder blades until your wings grow into their place ; iridescent light cascading into your eyes, beautifully blinding ; scraped knees ; honeysuckle on the air, you taste it on your tongue ; boisterous laughs dancing in the air ; open eyes, empty lungs, restless hearts- can you still breathe when the air leaves the room?

[bcttercups]

{ J U L E S }

++++

Still wearing the clothes he was arrested in, Julian was finally going to be released from the horrible jail cell. How he ended up there is something that Jules won’t understand, unless someone told him the truth about who brought him to the cops attention. It was a hard four days to be locked up for no reason. There were times when Jules wanted to yell and fight with the cops, but he held himself together and didn’t allow himself to lose control; which was something he easily lost, his control. They knew, he knew that he didn’t do it. Everyone who knew him knew that Jules didn’t set the fire to the diner. He didn’t have a reason to. Nor did he really want to. No one listened to him though. It didn’t matter anymore. He was being released and as far as he knew, someone else was taking his place, Miguel. Did he actually do it? Or was he in the same position as Jules? No one really told him when he tried to ask. Instead he finally took the threat of being thrown back into the jail cell and left.

Stepping out into freedom, his eyes immediately squinting from the harsh light of the outside world. He covers his eyes with his hands to shield himself. Maybe he didn’t have to do that, but being stuck inside without sunlight made it difficult to see outside. Through his half closed eyes, Julian was able to see Misha running towards him. Immediately his mood picked up and he held a smile that matched that of his friend’s. He hadn’t expected anyone to be there waiting for him. So it was a big surprise that Misha had showed up. At least one person cared about him. “I did! I did make it out alive.” He states, going on with Misha’s words. “I didn’t think I could make it. I honestly thought I would turn to dust in there.” A tad dramatic, but Jules couldn’t help himself. “Awe, that’s too cute and sweet. I would love the company as I go home. I feel like I haven’t spoken to anyone besides myself and cops.” Being locked up for a crime you didn’t do really made you closer to your mind and Jules didn’t like that. “Really, Misha.” Jules says, grasping a shoulder with his hand gently. “I really appreciate you being here. I’ve felt really lonely these past few days.” Jules said giving him a bright smile.

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

The summer sun slowly setting in the sky, but the heat of the day would still be clinging to the roads the two men walked across. Gravel kicking beneath their shoes, the holes in the soles of Misha’s burning through to the asphalt beneath that cars had spent all day travelling. “Here,” His voice chimes to the air against the dull strum of crickets that would begin to make themselves known for the evening. Misha’s elbow gently nudging Jules, as he offers over his bike. “I rode it over, only fair you seem to ride it back home.”

There’s always something so jovial about the way Misha insists on carrying himself, with the small bounce in his walk, to the way his free hand would even grip to the backpack slung low against his shoulder. Perhaps though it was the easy smile that found it’s way to his features, white teeth beaming against full lips. Or perhaps it was the way his tone carried so light, daring not to be serious- even now, collecting his friend from the station. He doesn’t dare ask the question sitting at the edge of his tongue.

He doesn’t dare ask weighted words, how did this happen. No. Instead Misha only says, “Is it true what they say?” Ignoring all possibilities of a real conversation, joke lacing each of his words “Time changes you? What did they do to you in there Jules, will you ever be the same?”

[bcttercups]

{ P A I G E }

Paige turned with a soft chuckle flowing out of her to look at the man, a shrug following not too far behind. “Alone? Not anymore if you sit down.”

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

“Well what are you drinking?” He doesn’t have to be told twice, taking a seat at the bar besides the blonde. Gesturing over to the waiter as he says, “First round’s on me.”

[bcttercups]

{ S E O }

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“Yes,” Seo mumbled, not entirely true. He rubbed his eyes hazily and focused on the man before him. “Misha,” nothing but warmth in his voice as he rustles himself awake, consciousness bringing with it awareness of the pain that sat low in his body, bruises rising to the surface, prickling him blue and purple. As he wakes he realised how disheveled he must look, one arm strapped tightly to his chest, veiled welts over his right eyebrow making it heavy and swollen. He used his other arm to prop himself up, puffing his chest out painfully, trying to look a dash more presentable. He felt unsightly in this drab hospital gown, his hair combed down neatly by a nurse. It was kind of her, but not his usual style.

Seo was understandably disorientated by last nights events. Rest was bringing memories to the surface; how the first punches where thrown, words exchanged growing more aggressive before it spiralled. Seo knew it was a fight that wasn’t his. He was frustrated he hadn’t pulled himself away sooner. He was paying for it now.

“You came,” Seo said gently, a bated excitement on his lips as he marvelled at Misha, who seemed to always look fresh from the garage. The place hung on him, decorating him with a ruggedness, balancing out those soft honey coloured eyes. “I guess you heard what happened.” Seo mumbled, feeling obliged to address the obvious. “They got me pretty good hey,” he said, raising his cast elbow in the air somewhat jovially, trying to make a joke out of it, though it stang as he did so. 

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

A smile unable to be swallowed, beams brightly across Misha’s features as he hears the familiar voice chime from inside the room. His feet carry him into the room, coming to face the sight he wasn’t quite sure if he was ready for when he came here. He didn’t know what he was expecting really, the man had ended up in hospital, but it felt different once his eyes rested on him. Black and blue bruising painting the edges of Seo’s skin, white bandages wrap where Misha can only imagine pain resting beneath. But the excitement that carries through in Seo’s own voice, makes it worth it.

“Sort of,” He sheepishly admits. Not even knowing all the details before he came over to give the man a visit. Stepping by his side, he leans down to give him a soft petaled kiss on the cheek, before propping himself to sit on the bed besides him. “I thought you could use with the company though, figured there isn’t much in the way of hospital talk.”

As Misha talks, he only keeps his attention on Seo- perhaps too afraid to look around the rest of the room. The medical equipment, the white sterile walls, the blinding overhead lights- it all sits too uncomfortable.  “Plus,” He leans down whispering with the broad grin, “Figured some contraband could do you well.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulls out two packets of sweets and rests them on Seo’s chest. “I didn’t know what else would be good honestly.”

[bcttercups]

{ R O B B I E }

***

“ah-ah, very funny. maybe focus on the work instead of my age?” cleaning his hands on a towel that was once white, now very greyish, robbie watched misha watching the car, frowning when the young man didn’t even care about the hotness. robbie shook his head, and took the flashlight from the other’s hand.

“forgot to ask you, but carmichael can’t come in tomorrow, something about his mother coming to town. think you can cover his shift? i know it’s last minute but…”

robbie didn’t have to ask misha. he had two other guys he could ask, and himself could just take over and work longer hours than usual. but he liked the way misha worked, and, well, he could perhaps be accused of favoritism. and it was clean work, right?

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

Happily handing the torch over to Robbie, with his nose in the engine- dirt only clinging to his own hands as he continues to search. His eyes would drift to the man at his side for a moment, but only the briefest of moments. Misha knew what Robbie was doing, it wasn’t hard to miss the way he was always asked to cover shifts. He only wished he knew what Robbie wanted in return. “I mean we can try but the day will come.”

Hands once soft and tender to the touch, now covered in grease and oil. Staining under his finger nails, and hardening the surfaces of his palms. He’d work, and work, and work. Even when he wasn’t in the shop- Misha was working. And yet he can’t manage to settle anywhere beyond the scrap change bike he picked up from a yard sale when he first arrived in town, and a constant array of couches he surfed between, and late night diners that took pity on him.

“Yeah, that’s no problem.” He says, but all he wants to ask is why. Why does Robbie always give to him. And when is he going to start taking. “Have we tried changing the fuel filter yet?” Is the only question that leaves his mouth, as he turns, back to the engine to face Robbie. “I don’t know I can’t see much wrong here.”

[bcttercups]

TIME: 12:23 pm LOCATION: phoenix hospital STATUS: for seo ! @parlourseo​

Everything seemed so clinical- he didn’t know what else to expect, catching the bus over the the Phoenix Hospital. Making his way through the hallways, ever white seeming so wrong now against his dust covered clothes, and shoes that seemed to leave boot marks where he once walked. Following the directions a nurse gave him down the hall, to the left, no that left? Around a corridor. It all was beginning to look the same, with the same sickly patients waiting for him at every turn. 

It wasn’t really until now he considered it. The state Seo could have been in when he walked into that room. Seeing all these people, with their crutches, and IV drips, and the bags sunken into their hallowed out faces. His heart would begin to race with each new step. Was this a bad idea? He’d ask himself, time and time again. Doubt encroaching- but he’d finally make it there. A gentle knock against the door before opening up to the room, “Seo?” He’d call softly, opening the door more, stepping inside. “Seo are you awake?”

[bcttercups]

TIME: 05:48 pm LOCATION: outside the station STATUS: for jules ! @hopelesouls

Sinking clouds low in the sky, washed with orange hues from the setting sun that clings to the last moments of day against the horizon. Walking his bike up to the station, a glint catching in his dark gaze as the doors swing open. A brief moment, a hesitance that it could be anyone but- but Misha would light up at the sight of Jules stepping from the station doors.

It had barley been more than a few days, but it’s hard to contain his excitement as he rushes the rest of the way to meet Jules where he’s finally free. He hadn’t heard much, rumours here and there- all Misha knew was one of the few people he’d come to call a friend in this town had been locked away for a few days. “You made it out alive,” a joking tone already seeping into his words. “Figured I can’t let a mate make his own way home.”

[bcttercups]

TIME: 01:02 am LOCATION: sleeping beauty STATUS: for paige ! @pa1ge-clark

Misha had lost track of the time long ago, being swallowed in the bustling atmosphere of the Saturday night. It was easy to get caught up in it all, in the full bellied chuckles, and the way his boots would grip to the sticky floors as he worked his way up to the bar. Cheeks flushed with alcohol- or perhaps it was the heat of this town. He’d never get used to the way there seemed to be a constant sheen of sweat across his forehead.

“Don’t tell me you’re drinking alone?” 

[bcttercups]

TIME: 10:13 pm LOCATION: the sleeping beauty STATUS: for nadia ! @almostparaiso

The night still felt young, full of promise against beer soaked lips and bright laughter breaking the air. And Misha amongst it all himself, young and bright and full of life himself. He wouldn’t remember the name of those he’d been sat around talking to for hours, all he’d know was losing to them at a game of pool and before he knew it they were neck deep in pitchers of beer sat around a table in the bustling bar.

Honeyed laughs, and a slight stumble to his step he finds himself at the bar ordering another round for the table. Managing to trip and stumble into the woman who’s stood at the bar, “God sorry!” He offers straightening up, hand rest on her shoulder as he catches himself with another laugh bubbling from his lips. “I’m so sorry, did you spill anything? Are you okay? I’m sorry.”

[bcttercups]

character aesthetics      ||   fragile beings reflecting the sun

[bcttercups]

{ S E O }

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“Seo” he nods and reaches a hand out to him, eyeing Misha up and down, as grease covered himself as the tools that lay strewn on the floor. “That would be great, I’m so late for work-”

He focuses on Misha’s face and is hit with an unwelcome pang of familiarity. This usually meant he was either a tattoo client or that Seo had come across him on an app. He quickly scanned Misha’s visible skin. No ink in sight. Seo quickly diverted his gaze and welcomed Misha’s question about the bike. “I think the chain’s gone, but I can’t get to it.” Seo sighs, “and if it was gone I don’t have the parts,” Seo rambles despairingly, as if talking to himself. 

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

“If it’s the chain you got nothing to worry about,” Placing the rag back into his pocket, Misha wanders over to help the other push the bike into the garage where he begin inspecting it. “It’s a nice lookin’ bike- don’t see many like this around these parts.” Making small talk was easy for a man like Misha, perhaps because he hated when silence settled in a room. Always having to have something- idle music in the background, conversation too loud to hear your own thoughts.

With his hands busy at work, looking over every inch careful to asses everything it could be he continues. “Most of the town likes their classics you know, their Rebels, and Street 750s. This looks like something out of Tron. But I got some good news- you’re right it’s just the chain. So I can fix you up and get you going within 30.”

[bcttercups]

{ R O B B I E }

***

the motor roared to life for a moment, then smoke erupted from the depths within the metal skeleton and robbie killed the machine again. clearing the vapors with a hand, he mumbled a quick swear in spanish and watched the puzzle in front of him. he didn’t know what the lady who owned the car did with it (something pretty stupid, probably) but it was getting on his nerves. robbie had taken over when his worker hadn’t been able to determine the source of the problem. the thing was, robbie didn’t want for the woman to have to change the entire motor. it was costly, and she was pregnant. the car was an old piece of junk, but she couldn’t afford anything else.

robbie was probably the stupid one, being played like that.

a hand on his shoulder disrupted his analysis of the problem at hand, and he scoffed at misha calling him an old man. “we’ve replaced a lot of parts and something’s still broken. you wanna take a look?” it wasn’t a challenge, and robbie wasn’t prideful enough to turn away a new pair of eyes on an issue he had. if misha could help, robbie would be glad. misha was a good mechanic, probably better than he thought himself to be. robbie just wanted him to push himself a little bit further, to gain confidence.

though from what lucia told him, misha wasn’t lacking much in confidence.

“it’s still hot, careful not to burn yourself, yeah?”

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

Misha was eager to jump at the chance to inspect the car before them. He’d remembered it well, endless hours spent over the engine, installing new parts and finessing the ones still in there trying to keep the car in condition. Without so much a heed to Robbie’s warning, the boy is quick to dive his nose into the hood, poking around despite the heat coming off it, and searching for anything that could keep it going.

“I could sense it from the other side of the workshop you needed me,” the joke was nothing more than a light jab muttered from the bonnet. Flashlight in hand as he mulls over each of the parts, trying to get his hand into a few nooks before pulling it back out in a sudden jolt from the heat- then attempting again.  “I know you just keep me around to lift things when your back goes with that age of yours, and when your eyesight starts failing. It’s okay Robbie, we’ll put you in a nice home I promise. I’ll keep the place looking pretty.”

[bcttercups]

??? huffy bmx - character’s ride

he got the bike his first week being in town just from a local garage sale, while he couldn’t tell you the year or model or anything- misha can tell you the rusted chain will need replacing soon but it’s better than nothing when getting around.

[bcttercups]

TIME: 02:46 pm LOCATION: mike’s garage STATUS: closed @nightrvnning​

Dust kicked to life in the workshop, sunlight streaming in through high windows, battling with the overhead lights. Despite the number of cars they’d moved in and out through the shop for the day, customers collecting and dropping of- the day had still felt so slow. Cars services had seemed to be the only thing Misha felt he’d done, time and time and time again. It could have been expected of course. One of the main parts of his job. But the same task, again? Today it seemed more tedious than usual. 

By the time he’d finished his third car for the day, he couldn’t resist wandering over to Robbie who seemed deeply focused on his current job. Resting a filth covered hand on Robbie’s shoulder, he’d peer over to see what the man was working on. “Do you need a hand old man? You look like you need a hand over here.”

[bcttercups]

{ S E O }

Starter for @bcttercups​

Location: Mike’s Garage

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Seo felt notably out of place as he pulled his motorbike up to the wide open garage door. Sweat dripped from his forehead, dragging it all that far in the searing heat was exhausting. He was irritable, most things he knew how to fix himself, but no amount of tinkering around had landed him any results and he’d missed three appointments at the shop trying to fix it. He called out into the seemingly empty garage, voice hollow as it bounced back to him, sticky oil covered tools strewn on the floor next to cars that had seen better days- “Do you do bikes as well?” You would hope so, what with all the bikers in this town. He mopped his brow with his t-shirt, locking eyes with the mechanic and suddenly became aware of how bedraggled he must look.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

The shop had been quiet for the most part of the day, quiet enough Robbie headed home early for the evening- of course only after a badgering of reassurance from Misha that everything would be fine in his hands. He heard the footsteps first, from his place under the car he worked away on, then the man’s voice chiming through the place. Wheeling himself out from under the car, he’d stand to offer a vibrant smile to the man who’d wandered in. “Be bad business not to,” Grease smeared across Misha’s cheek, and black oil thick on his hands that he’d attempt to clean with an already dirty rag he grabbed from pocket. “Why don’t you roll her in, I’ve got some free time now if you want. Name’s Misha by the way.” Gesturing to his name badge, “What’s the issue with it?”

[bcttercups]

{ M I G U E L }

…

Processing the ramblings of Misha took a little too much work especially under the influence. He was only buzzed, having spiked his 7-11 drink with some vodka, but as he listened to the kid talk his ears off, he wondered what the was like with something in his system. Or maybe something already was and Miguel was unaware. Nonetheless, he barely understood Misha and found himself nodding along, hoping that satisfied the kid. It took only two seconds to realize that was a ‘no’. “Right … Are you on a job or something?” 

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

Misha wasn’t always the most responsible of people, but he didn’t believe in getting intoxicated before sundown. Which meant the energetic array of words that flooded from his lips were caused from nothing more than the excitement from this environment. A false sense of family. “What?” He’d ask a little taken back for a moment, surprise obvious in his tone as he looks to the man who had been sitting alone on the bench. “What, no.. Oh-” A flush of embarrassment adorns his cheeks, “I wasn’t ah- here on business... I just didn’t think that’s why you were sitting here alone.” 

[bcttercups]

{ M I G U E L }

“Can I help you?” 

Granted not everyone could avoid staring at Miguel who was sitting on one of the picnic benches, dressed in all black and sipping on a 7-11 blue raspberry slurpee. Events like these in Paraiso had customers flocking to him. Mostly for the baby shit but hey – that shit sells.

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

“Oh man you have got to those things-” Misha’s all too excited about whatever sweet thing he’d just had on a stick he fumbles his own words for a moment, “You know those ones all smothered in sugar. Damn I should have kept some, have you had one before?” He takes the seat besides Miguel on the bench, cross legged as he looks to the man besides him. “Don’t tell me you’ve spent the whole time sitting here? You’re missing out.”

[bcttercups]

{ A U R O R A } 

“Are you any good at this?” Aurora asked the first person who walked past her. She was currently at the Memorial day block party with her daughter Serenity. The little girl was wanting to play some of the carnival games and win something for herself. Even though the young mother thought they were overrated and rigged, she couldn’t say no to her own kid. They had spent what seemed like an eternity trying to win a round at the bucket toss and she was about to give up. “Do you think you can win us a prize? We aren’t having much luck,” she admitted. 

⊹   ⊹   ⊹

Misha couldn’t remember the last time he’d been to a carnival, where sickeningly sweet sugar rushed through his system from the candy he just couldn’t resist, and his eyes lit up at the prospects of winning some silly prize to keep on his shelves. He was probably a teenager, too cool for such festivities. There was a joy, almost contagious on his features when the other chimed up besides him. “That depends,” A fake teasing in his tone as he leans down to the younger child, “What prize are you after?”