YOUNG GOD;

"His hair speckled like the ocean's sand and his eyes blue as the sky above, one could say he was fated by the gods with a story worth telling." Clark Elias James. xxxii. Veterinarian

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T. UNDERWOOD:

“Well, mine is in July so you can party then for the both of us since I’ll probably be at home trying to pry a cast of my leg.”

“Oooh, don’t stick anything down it. My mother watched me like a hawk so I didn’t, but I heard the horror stories.”

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D. MAEVE:

          “Then surely we’re polar opposites if this is your first time forgetting a birthday. — How far off were you?”

“Uh, I guess three days at the most? It just hit me this morning that I didn’t actually do the traditional celebrations.”

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C. WARREN:

“Oh?” Cassie called out, surprised by his wording while a brow shot toward the ceiling. “If I missed my birthday, it would give me the excuse to say I’m thirty four for yet another year. Thirty five, who? But, I know people who were never affected by missing their birthday,” admitted Cas, shrugging her shoulders. “How old did you turn?”

“It’s normally a big deal in our family. We spend usually the week at wherever the birthday child would want to go. I guess we’ve been all a bit too busy or whatever to continue that on.” Clark had to assume it was that. That he was making himself busier to not deal with confrontation by his parents. “I’m thirty-three now.”

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I. CANHAM:

Issy turned towards the voice with a confused look across her face. “How do you miss your own birthday?” She questioned, an amused smile crossing her lips. “A friends, fair enough, but– what did you just lose track of the date?”

“I guess that would be the most logical explanation. Days start to become a blur when you work too much? Ah well, I’m surprised my mother didn’t come busting down my door.”

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T. ANGELLO:

“I hear ya man its just everytime something happens with her they always come to me for a comment. I haven’t seen her in three years what the hell am I gonna say .. its stupid.”

“Do you have to say anything? You said ex-wife right? So really that means you don’t actually need to talk.”

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P. BEAUMONT:

“You missed your own birthday..You- What? How…How did that happen? I need a full explanation, with extra pointers and we need to get you a cake..a cake with candles–Do you even know how old you are?” Phoebe joked, laughing lightly as she quirked an eyebrow.

“I guess I just worked through it and things just didn’t click together until some days after?” Clark shrugged, not entirely sure on how he missed his birthday. He assumed he went through the motions at least. “I don’t need a cake and I would be thirty-three.”

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“Looks like this year is the year of firsts.” He paused for a moment, taking a sip from his drink. “First time I missed my own birthday. How did I do that with a family like mine? Your guess is as good as mine.”

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L. RIGBY:

Truthfully, Libby hadn’t been on holiday in just over a year now, and she couldn’t think of anything better to do than go to somewhere hot and nice with Clark. It was the whole.. holiday experience she adored. She loved the airports, the feeling of getting off the plane, wandering down to the poolside or the beach in the morning, and wandering back up to the hotel room at night. It was a different atmosphere that she loved dearly. “Do you think the dogs would act differently if the new pup wasn’t a goldie?” She questioned, looking over to him before they stepped inside. Libby patiently waited for Clark to answer the questioned, and smiled gently when those there to greet them glanced over towards her. “A cute one.” She smiled, before bursting into a chuckle. “The one that you like the most. I love your dogs, so I’m sure I’ll love your new pup.”

Clark chuckled when she asked if his other dogs would treat the new pup differently if it was a golden retriever. He didn’t know really because some dogs are more aggressive than others and so being surrounded by other dogs sometimes wasn’t a good idea. It also depended on what type of owner you are too. That probably held more importance than anything else in the idea of owning a dog. “I think they’ll be fine with someone who isn’t a goldie. The four love just about any and all other dogs. My neighbor’s Yorkie on the other hand doesn’t like my dogs at all. So another one and I might just be the influence in getting her to move.” It wasn’t his plan for his neighbor to move, but with her warnings she was always giving him, he knew it would come soon enough. He was going to walk up the counter when one of the worker’s grabbed his attention. “We already know why you come to the shelter, Clark. So come in and see if anyone grabs your attention.” It was almost comical on how Clark had a pattern. He had visited this shelter three times before now and got four dogs from it so it was easy to assume he was coming back for more. He took a hold of Libby’s hand before following through the door to where the dogs were located. 

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B. JAMES:

       When Elle was with Clark, she couldn’t be any happier. She was with her brother, best friend, and her person. Thankfully, he was at home when she wanted to catch up with him. Texting everyday was their thing, but seeing him in person made her feel a lot better. Cuddling one of her many “furry nephews”, sipping on a cup of tea, and lounging on his couch was one of her happy places. That’s where she was now. “Oh come on, you were surprised by this? When we were little, she’d always give us food when we were sad. I got a plate full of cookies when I scraped my knee while playing outside one time.” Elle told the story like it was yesterday. All this time, she wished she had a closer relationship with her. Elle just kept ruining it. “This is one of her ways of showing love and care for you. You are her favorite, after all.”

Clark was flipping through the channels before landing on some movie. He remembered the title but not exactly the plot. “I only have two refrigerators in my house and she’s already filled up one of them. Please take some when you leave.” He understood where Barbara was coming from and knew how it was more of the materialistic side of their parents in how they showed their love most of the time. Very rarely wasn’t it something other than food, gifts, or anything else that came to mind. “I would use that term loosely if I was you. We both know Arabelle will always be the favorite even if they weren’t happy about Noah at first. Speaking of which, have you seen her recently? She was out on bed rest since spraining her ankle, but that was a good couple of weeks ago.” The mention of Noah had brought back the new conversation he was having his with parents. It wasn’t necessarily new, more put on the back burner that was now their main goal to accomplish. “You don’t think mom would be crazy enough to put me up on a dating site, right?”

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Text: Clark + Open

Erik: Then I guess you know what to do then don't you?

Clark: Get the dog. I'm thinking of an Australian Shepard to mix it up.

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A. BRADY:

“Obvious much?” Aiden asked, still trying to take one more sip in hopes that the second time around wouldn’t be so bad, but he could feel the liquor burning down his throat. He shook his head. “Yeah, no– I… I’m definitely not a hard liquor person. Beer maybe? If OJ is not an option?” He asked, that last part jokingly… or half jokingly anyway.

“Alright, let’s go find something for ya.” Clark started to weave through the crowd before landing back to where all the drinks were located. “Well, here it all is. I’m sure in that fridge is orange juice if you really want to go that way. Vokda is good with it if you wanted to try something else with alcohol. But you go ahead and pick whatever you want.”

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L. RIGBY:

It wouldn’t have been the first time that Libby was told she was strong. It wasn’t that she was vein enough to agree, it was that she didn’t understand why people thought as much. Was she strong because she’d been through a lot and was still alive to tell the tale? She didn’t define it as being strong, it was more like surviving. Clark didn’t know that every other day, she occupied herself late at the library, or on midnight walks to clear her mind from the thoughts and memories of what happened. Maybe he didn’t understand her as much as she thought he did, but their relationship was new, and she didn’t expect him to know everything about her. “You really think I’m strong?” She questioned, wondering if he’d elaborate so that she’d understand a little more, as she wandered in a different direction from the newspaper stand. “It’s difficult to explain.” She mentioned quietly, almost a whisper.

“It’s easier to give up. It’s easier to just say that you’re done of being tired and to end it all.” Clark remembered just how dark the times were when the DeMarco family lost Lucia. And because the families were so close, the James family had also felt such loss in their own lives. Things were dreary for about a couple of months until everyone had to move on. They couldn’t change anything and so it was decided to never bring up such darkness again. “My friend, Luca, he went through a hard time when we lost his sister. There were many times when I stayed over to make sure he wasn’t going to do anything stupid. It’s easy to fall in keeping yourself in that environment of being in grief.” He paused after that, not entirely sure of himself to continue on. It didn’t feel right to talk about her even if he wasn’t talking about her in specific. “And you haven’t turned into what I’ve seen. You try to continue on living, you know?” He felt a tinge of awkwardness once he was done talking. He was never good at consoling someone. He was never suppose to talk about Lucia either. It was if he was waiting for the very moment his mother would come and clamp her hand on his shoulder before they walked away and she’d tell him in a hushed whisper how that wasn’t acceptable. 

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T. ANGELLO:

“So according to Tmz my ex-wife is contemplating relocating to a quiet town just outside New York. Jeez if she heads here I gonna have a meltdown. I can’t cope with this kinda drama.”

“But when are those magazines ever correct? Plus TMZ is a shit magazine, website, tv show, whatever the fuck they are. People is a better information source though really, I think they all lie on some parts.”

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G. GREEN:

“Whoever said life was like a box of chocolates was a fucking idiot. I mean, like, chocolates taste great no matter what you pick. White, black, milk. And life? Life doesn’t taste that great. Well not all the time, anyway.” She’s staring a little too hard at the sweets aisle, unable to make her mind up. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Clark was highly amused at the woman’s rambling on chocolate. He already had a few bags for himself. “It was Forrest Gump who said that, by the way. I don’t think he meant the taste, but I don’t know much about chocolate. I got that dark chocolate curse where you’re basically ruined from liking any other flavor.” 

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A. FUENTES:

“I just want to know why some people call the police for every little thing. If I have to go to McDonalds one more time to hear a grown adult bitch about how charging a few cents for ranch is ‘unconstitutional’ then I might actually lose my mind.”

“Well... I mean it’s pretty ridiculous that if you get ten pieces of chicken nuggets and they only give you one sauce like that’s going to be enough. Would I call the cops about it? No, but I would demand more sauce. We apparently like to put high standards on fast food.” 

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H. MARSHALL:

This would be her luck — stuck on the side of the road with her thumb out in hopes that someone would stop to give her a ride to the closest gas station. Of course the only time she’d decided to leave her phone at home to charge during her afternoon bike ride would be the one and only time she needed it most. She’d noticed the nearly empty gas tank a little too late —- leaving her stranded by the side of the road minutes later. Her bike stood a few feet away, the brunette held her thumb out while a cigarette dangled from her lips as she watched yet another car drive by, rolling her gaze. “Fucker.” She muttered, hoping the next would show some kind of human decency. 

Clark had gotten a new car and so when the weather was nice, he decided to take it for a ride. He had some errands to run, really nothing in set in stone for time wise, and so he took his time going through the backstreets and anywhere else he could to get a nice feel of the car. He was usually the one for sports car type, two seater with a nice interior and all the bells and whistles one could want. But this time, he got another Escalade. His dogs had already taken claim to his older one so he thought it was time for a new one. As he rounded a curve and continued on, he noticed someone sitting on the edge of the road. He normally would’ve continued on, not paying any attention to the person’s issue at hand, but he decided to stop. “I thought you could fix anything?” He asked, a smirk of his teasing on his face as he walked over to Harley. 

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A. KURBATOV:

God damn karaoke night, how did she manage to be dragged there? From up stage, Aniya could see her model girlfriends, all of them sitting at a booth at the far corner of the bar. Elle’s voice kept playing in her head, telling to let loose, be a little wild. The brunette decided to relish in the moment and sang along with the lyrics displayed on the screen - Big Mouth Strikes Again, by The Smiths. 

Once the song was over, she took a little courtesy, biting down her lip and getting off stage. Her click yelled exaggeratedly from the distance, screaming her name and asking for another song. Foolish and slightly inebriated, she laughed with her friends, piercing blue eyes attentive to them. That’s when she tripped on a cable and nearly pushed down the person who had been nearby, watching her. “Боже мой! Fudge!” Because yeah, it took Aniya a super binge to swear in public. She held them by the shoulders - more like held herself up so she wouldn’t trip again - face slightly blushed by the situation and alcohol in her system. “I’m really sorry. I get clumsy, sometimes. Blame the alcohooool,” she hummed quietly, smiling softly. And that’s when she saw the empty glass on their hand and half the liquid spilled on herself, half on the floor. “I. Am. Really. Sorry. Let me get you another?”

Clark wasn’t usually the one to visit the bars who had karaoke as their main event. He knew he was a good singer, his parents made that happen with the plenty of singing lessons he had as a child, but it was another thing to stand up and sing a song of whatever choosing. If you knew Clark, you would’ve had the feeling that karaoke was something right up his alley. He liked to be the center of attention and singing, the two main pros to singing in front of a crowd. But blame his mother for giving him such a high standard in how his tastes turned out to be. It looked cheesy to him and something he wouldn’t touch unless he was drunk enough.

But he was here in this bar, sipping on his drink, and was waiting for his sister to show up. She said she wanted to meet her and he could only guess that it was for her attempts at getting him to sing up there with her. After all, the James children did love a good ego boost and the idea of causing such jealousy among the crowd. The best always did want to be known as the best, right? The woman who was singing now sounded good and he could feel the relaxed atmosphere taking an effect on him. That was before the woman came around and nearly took him down on the sticky floor, spilling her drink mostly on herself while some did land on him and the ground. “It’s okay, really. These are old clothes anyway, a better reason to switch them out for something more current.” Of course with the bad lighting in the place, it was easy to not notice how such nice clothes could be considered out of season. A simple dress pants and button up shirt couldn’t possibly be considered bad fashion.