ʰᵃˡᶠ ᵈᵒᵒᵐᵉᵈ && ˢᵉᵐⁱ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗ

indie. semi sel. multi, adored by star. ft. canon & original muses of varying fandoms. click for owed threads!

[poorbcy]

@coalessscence

               ❝ You look a bit lost, darling. ❞ He grins at the young girl who’s obviously not used to being backstage— James can tell who’s meant to be there and who isn’t in the blink of an eye. The newcomers (or perhaps those who snuck in) always seem to be in awe of the most mundane things that go on; the roadies loading the gear into the back of the trailer, the people mulling about and drinking the shitty (but free) beer, the venue people trying to socialize with the musicians. All that shit bores James to tears now, but it’s always a bit of fun to fuck around with those who aren’t meant to be there. ❝ Can I— get you a beer or something? ❞

[coalessscence]

                // linda doesn’t exactly find this kind of concert to be her scene. sure, she's been known to hang out at shows, and engage in a lot of behavior that would have her mother throwing a fit when she does. but linda doesn't love the mainstream events. she can usually be found making out with a stranger in the back corner of a shitty punk show in someone's smoke-filled basement. if that doesn't do the trick, she's under the bleachers at an illegal street race with someone else she met at a punk show last weekend. she enjoys the music, but the crowd isn't her vibe. that being said- this show was pretty good. musically, she enjoyed it a whole lot more than the basement wonders she frequents, perhaps it's this connection that had led her to sneaking backstage in search of the rowdier crowd she preferred.

she cuts her eyes to the man who addresses her, sizing him up. she isn't typically looking to spend time with guys on nights like this, but she's not sure what kind of crowd is going to be here, and she'll take what she can get. besides that- hadn't she just seen him on stage? she wasn't really close enough to tell from her seat, but he does look familiar. ❛ nah, not lost, ❜ she tells him casually. ❛ just waitin' for something to catch my eye. ❜ she sweeps her gaze up to stab his very pointedly. ❛ i could go for a beer. ❜ she hedges her bets, but she's not saying no.

[innocentmanwithabounty]

Just Swept Me Off Your Feet--LavenderLorraineBaines

[innocentmanwithabounty]

Somehow, Lorraine’s clear delight surprises him slightly. Being a bounty hunter, most people do not want to be seen with him. Bounty hunters keep bad company and generally they only keep company with criminals that they are hauling in to jail or other equally-suspicious characters. Young ladies certainly do not want to be seen with him for purely social reasons. Yet Lorraine is acting as if getting him to go to the dance has been a long-planned end goal on her part.

It is peculiar…but then a lot of what Lorraine does can be described that way.

He turns his attention back to his drink, shoving the straw down into the chocolatey gloop as Lorraine begins babbling about dresses and cars. Neither topic has much interest for him. He has already purchased a good shirt, a jacket and a pair of paints on Mr. Gribbers’s order. His boss informed him a few weeks ago that a few town events were coming up and he needed his employee looking presentable. If the clothes are good enough for his boss, Vin is sure they will be fine for a school dance.

When Lorraine starts pondering who she can borrow a car from, he finally chimes in. “We can always walk too. It should be a nice night.”

Somehow, though, he suspects that the car is a status symbol and she needs one to cement her place in this…teenage hierarchy going on in town. It is not so much about needing transportation as it is about being seen arriving in a car. However, if Lorraine does get her hands on one, she will have to drive it. Vin has no idea how to drive and does not feel like dying in an attempt to learn. Besides, he likes walking as much as he likes riding horses and cannot understand why so many people these days avoid the practice.

The question of dinner is a viable one as in this century, it seems that people have discontinued the worthy practice of making sure that dancing and meals go hand-in-hand. “‘Course we can go out and get a meal first,” he agrees cheerfully.

He will pay for the meal of course. By rights, he knows he should also be the one picking her up but he has no way of doing that as she is the one set on having a car. Unable to fully explain why he is slightly frustrated by this situation, he satisfies himself with stabbing at his drink a few more times and then trying a sip. It is still overly sweet but not as much of a shock as the first sips had been.

Taking another sip, he glances at Lorraine again to see what her mind will jump to next. This party seems to matter a lot to her and he is content to let her plan. In his own quiet way, he is growing quite fond of the younger girl and is happy to go along with anything that will make her happy. After several nights of laying away and thinking the situation over carefully, he knows that there is nothing romantic in his feelings. He is simply fond of her and grateful for her friendship as he tries to navigate this strange world.

It is probably for the best. Even if he never makes it back to his own time, Lorraine is ill suited for kind of work, lifestyle and predicaments he often finds himself in. Besides, his romantic life seems to be marred by a bad star and he is not interested in tempting fate again. After his disastrous attempts at courting Sissy Lyons failed and then having Amira Diaz try o kill him, he swore off romance and young women.

Besides, there seems to be no harm in going out with Lorraine as a friend. He does not understand all of her slang but he has a good feeling that she is not looking for anything serious right now. In the long run, any disappointment she might end up feeling will soon be cured by another boy at school.

In the meantime, he will let her plan this outing to her heart’s content. She wants to go out and he wants to go out with her. Besides, how much trouble can they get into at a school dance?

[coalessscence]

Lorraine pauses, mind on the precipice of decision, a see-saw teetering on the peak of balance. On the one hand, walking around town together would mean being shown off on Vin's arm, something she would be more than happy to have the opportunity for. On the other hand, if they went in a car, perhaps they might be able to- dare she even have the thought- park for a while before going inside. Ah, how her mother would reel at such an idea!

She presses her lips together in thought, watching Vin bring his straw into service to stab valiantly at the mighty beast that is the foam and remaining whipped cream atop his drink. Perhaps- Vin will not be ready for something so bold as parking just yet. And after all, as far as she knows, he isn't going anywhere, and there will be other events around town. She'll save that card for later. ❝Walking might be lovely, if you don't mind,❞ she agrees, nodding so that all of her curls bounce. ❝Where do you want to meet before we go to dinner?❞

She would love to show him off to her parents (perhaps he'll be mature enough that even her father won't be that disappointed in her judgement this time), but if he wouldn't like to go so far out of his way to come by her house, why, that is quite alright. She is a modern sort of girl, she thinks, and she doesn't have to be picked up by her date before the evening starts. She's perfectly capable of traveling somewhere else first on her own.

But, she muses- it would be more romantic if he did want to stop by.

Lorraine holds many ideals out above her head- a romantic date in which she at last falls in love hard at first sight, marriage, and a family- having her prince charming forever. But she also isn't ready for any of those things now. After all, she's only in high school, even if it is her final year. She doesn't want to be locked in to anything too serious while she still has so many options ahead of her.

[iwillmakemystandhere]

I am Not Your ‘Little Lady’--With ThePolyesterPrince

[iwillmakemystandhere]

As soon as the leader calls her “sweet stuff”, Inez’s eyebrows pull together into a furious glare but it passes like a storm cloud on a sunny afternoon. At least it seems too but the thunderstorm is still raging in her eyes. She doubts this fellow or his companions are sober enough to realize the danger they are in, though. He is simply smirking and his closest friends are laughing and egging him on.

That is typical behavior for drunks—they get a few drinks in them and they somehow decide that the liquid magically turns them into Casanovas. This moron clearly thought as much. Still, she cannot afford to make a scene—not yet anyways. Her employers have no issue with the bartenders getting tough on drunk, entitled college students. If they do not keep those kinds well in hand, all sorts of trouble start emerging. The only request her employers have are that such measures be justified. While the definition of justification varies by the employee, Inez keeps hers firmly on the line of personal comfort and safety. If one of these men starts acting aggressively toward her or takes on a predatory stance, she feels justified in acting and her employers will not question her actions.

At the drunk’s lascivious offer, the storm in her eyes darkens slightly. If she does flush in anger, such a development should be invisible in the bar’s low-lit ambiance. Unfortunately, words are not enough to justify the reaction she wants to give.

Instead, she points at Daniel. “You’ve had enough—all three of you in fact.” The accusatory finger becomes a gesture that encompasses his friends as well. Only Herb is excused…for the moment. “The only thing I’m giving you three is coffee. Black.”

Finally, almost reluctantly, she turns her attention to Herb. “You don’t seem quite as wasted as these three. Are you really good at holding your liquor or is your night just starting?”

If he answers to the latter, she will serve him a drink. If he boasts about his ability to hold his alcohol, she will just make an order for four black coffees.

[coalessscence]

herb's eyes widen at the announcement the woman behind the bar makes, but he tries to stay out of it otherwise. he backs up even further, preparing for the worst. herb runs in this crowd because if he didn't, he'd be on the receiving end of what he's about to witness. he doesn't entirely fail to grasp the irony of these events, swallowing hard and cutting his eyes between the members of his group in painful anticipation.

daniel's eyes narrow, all traces of good humor disappearing as a hiss escapes on his whiskey-tainted breath. "ya think so, do you?" manny and leo move closer to their leader, as if that's even necessary. "i didn't ask you for an evaluation. i asked you for a drink." he props an elbow on the counter again, but instead of a congenial come-on, this time, the motion is a threat. "and you're a server, right?" manny and leo lean marginally forward as well. daniel flashes her a grin free of humor. "so serve me." manny twists around and gestures at herb with a scowl, indicating that he was expected to assist. herb pretends he doesn't notice. "or else."

❛um,❜ herb says, startled by the woman's later address to him, mind reeling with the implications of this rotten day and evening, ❛um-❜ he very cautiously steps closer to the bar. ❛i haven't really- had anything to drink yet.❜ the fact that he did not immediately leap at the chance to boast about his incredible drinking skills displays his current level of distraction. he knows that when he steps out of this bar, there's a very high chance he won't make it to his dorm unscathed. not after a betrayal like that. he is, to put it casually, dead meat. 

suddenly, the idea of a beer makes him nauseous. ❛but, uh, you know? i'm- good.❜ he shifts his weight uncomfortably, aware of how this may ruin his reputation but presently unable to care. ❛do you guys have- any tea?❜ he's hesitant to accept black coffee, certain that his mood will only worsen with such stimulation.

[coalessscence]

hopedreaminq‌:

she’s taken aback by the question. she isn’t prepared for it, she never had any reason to prepare for it. she thought she did a pretty good job of hiding away her pain, and so never expected anyone to ever ask. theo doesn’t answer at first; it takes her a couple moments for her to stop herself from trying to think of anything she’d done to give herself away.

       ❝…of course,❞ she says, finally, softly. ❝why do you ask?❞ her eyes refuse to meet her classmate’s, and instead they fix themselves on her foot as she drags it across the ground.

                                                  ❝I just wanted                                                     to- to check.❞

bunny’s voice is cautious, because she doesn’t want to push her classmate into a corner. she’s just felt like something was off- wearing long sleeves on hot days, a somber attitude when class conversations turned to family affairs, and the frequent days missed from class for unexplained illnesses or events.

                                                  ❝it’s okay if                                                     you don’t                                                      wanna talk                                                     about it. i                                                     just want you                                                     to know that                                                     you can if you-                                                     if you wanna                                                     and i promise i                                                     won’t freak out or                                                     anything like that.❞

[innocentmanwithabounty]

It was almost as if Herb made the offer expecting Vin to reject it. When Vin offers his half-hearted, conditional agreement instead, Herb nearly drops his teeth. Still, Vin has loosely committed now—they both have—and there is nothing to do except see it through. Vin adjusts his grip on his bag as Herb starts babbling and backing away, doing nothing more than nodding in agreement. There is no point in using words anyways. Herb is so busy talking, Vin suspects he will never get a word in edgewise even if he tries.

“See you next week.” Vin raises his hand, unsure if his statement is a simple fact or an admission of an inevitable fate he cannot escape. Either way, he cannot take the words back. They are what they are.

=*=*=*=*=

A week passes and nothing comes of Herb’s bizarre invitation. Vin does not even see the man so the whole incident passes from his memory. Only a vague impression of Herb’s ceaseless chatter is left in the back of his mind. By the time his biology class rolls back around and he heads back to the classroom, even that memory has been shoved behind more pressing concerns.

It has been a long week for him, and not just because of trying to juggle school, homework, and his job. He has had a friend in the hospital—Chris is the kind of man to take risks anyways but since he started dating Ella, that tendency is getting worse. Chris had always been a street racer, but Vin is sure it was Ella’s goading that drove his friend to take the risky chances that led to him rolling his car. The idiot had almost died. Still, now that Chris is recovering, it seems that the accident broke the spell Ella had over him.

While Vin is grateful for that, the reality is that he squeezed several hospital visits into his schedule and has skimped on sleep as a result. Dropping his backpack by his usual seat, Vin slumps in the chair. Resting one arm on the desk, he pillows his cheek in the other hand and blinks owlishly at the white board dominating the front end of the room. At the rate he is going, he will be lucky not to fall asleep in class and earn the ire of Professor Bryce.

[coalessscence]

if there is one thing herb is not, it's unpredictable. most anyone could speak to him for a mere moment or two and walk away with a very accurate impression. after all, herb tarlek is is all show and no go, and it doesn't take a genius to hear just a few of his blustery, over-the-top boasts to work this out. and yet- herb tarlek has had an unpredictable week. he's as surprised about it as his friends would be, if he had any.

it all began the previous monday, when he'd invited a long-suffering classmate to hang out. he's never invited anyone to hang out. he had hoped he could write that one off, but worse, he had this nagging feeling all that week to actually follow up on it! he'd intended to- been about to, even! who was he becoming?

there is something to be said for herb's lack of self-identity, considering that this alone had been a world-shaking experience for him- but unfortunately, his week of horrors hadn't stopped there. he'd received a phone call from his mother, a rarity in and of itself, and instead of a polite and cheerful catch-up, she expressed woe over his childhood, discontent over his current living situation, and all but expressly stated her palpable disappointment in him.

it wasn't as if he had seen her in over ten years- it didn't really matter. except, it did, because she was his mother and he was letting her down. looking instead to turn to his father, he called herb sr. to "check in".  he wasn't sure what he expected, but he certainly didn't get it. after being told not to bother him at work and reminded that he needed to focus on school so that he could earn the chance to come on the road with his father, a curt, two-minute conversation ended.

herb had scowled at the receiver and put it back on the hook, wishing he'd called collect. there was a freakishly strong storm that night, and herb half-wished to be struck by lightning walking back from class.

monday was a bust and tuesday wasn't much better, but he still had hope for wednesday, considering even inviting his new class friend vin out for drinks to de-stress, but those ideas fell apart when he had to spend the day rushing around due to a major leak in the roof of his dorm building that fully soaked most everything on his floor, caused by the night before's storm. thursday was a nightmare class that he was genuinely starting to care about passing, especially if he wanted to work with his father, and he didn't even begin to know how to properly study for it. he had never properly studied for anything in life!

herb didn't have any classes on friday, so he worked three day weekends at a local car lot for his pocket money. he had the worst time imaginable at work, due to the storm which destroyed his dorm's roof also destroying several vehicles, and of course, herb being the under-paid gofer of the bunch, he took the brunt of most frustration and dirty work. he fully dreaded going in by sunday, and he never had before. that was saying something.

all in all, when monday rolls around, herb collapses into his usual seat in biology with a swirl of thoughts on his mind. he just wants a calm, typical week- a week full of chasing girls and hanging with the football team's best players with the worst personalities. a week of going out for drinks after evening classes and scoffing at the studious classmates he encountered. instead, all he can foresee is  another week of being alone, being stressed about grades, and being tossed around his job like a ping-pong ball.

he releases a sigh of discontent and rolls his shoulders, hoping for some kind of relief. he doesn't even understand this class. does he have to pass this class? he's never paid attention to anything his advisor has told him. glancing to one side, his eyes catch someone familiar- it's vin, whom he'd almost invited for drinks, but couldn't quite follow through with. for a moment, he's afraid to talk to him, certain that he'd accuse him of brushing the invitation off, but rolls his eyes at his own stupidity for that one. vin won't think any such thing- hell, he probably forgot about the whole idea. he certainly wasn't waiting for herb to call him.

he scoots the chair a little closer to the side and gives him a playful but perhaps a little too enthusiastic elbow. ❛vin! hey, how's it going?❜ he pauses in his overtly manufactured greeting here, taking in the other with an incredibly minor level of attention that even for herb, is a rarity. ❛say, you don't look so hot. rough week, huh? let me tell you, i know the feeling.❜

[innocentmanwithabounty]

Then What’ll You Do?--ThePolyesterPrince

[innocentmanwithabounty]

It is a testament to Herb’s worldview that he chews over this idea for so long. To Vin it is an easy concept but even among his close friends he knows that not everyone views this topic the same way. Herb’s hesitation really is not that unexpected when Vin compares the salesman to someone like Buck. Still, Buck might chase skirts and jump in and out of engagements like it is a new sport but he still means well. He really does love the women—he just has no tendencies toward monogamy. Most of the women are cut from a similar cloth anyways so there are rarely any hard feelings involved.

Herb, though, really seems to have no concept beyond viewing women as objects—a flat being that only exists to be on the receiving end of sleazy pick-up lines and unwanted attentions. Herb may not really mean what he says to the ladies but it is almost as if he has no idea what he is supposed to do around them or how to handle the idea that women are people in every sense of the world. The very idea seems to be more then Herb can wrap his mind around.

“I’ll lay you odds that Lucille will do more’n maybe like it.” Vin idly runs his finger along the worn edge of his cup, not quite looking at Herb but glancing in his general direction. “How do you think Inez and me get on so well for as long as we have? I keep my ‘ttentions on her and she keeps hers on me.”

It is a simple system but it works well. For Vin it is also easy because Inez really is the only one for him. He cannot even imagine carrying on the way Herb does. Vin has worked hard to build up his family and he is not going to do anything to risk that.

His thoughts inadvertently feed right into Herb’s next sentence. “Do I?” Vin answers Herb’s question with an obvious one of his own. Herb will have to admit that he has never seen Vin carrying on like that. That will challenge Herb’s vague “everybody” statement. From there they can unpack the rest of the statement and go from there.

Knowing that Herb will probably need a few more minutes to mull over this new information, Vin looks back out of the window toward the lost tourists. The parents are now bickering over the map while the kids are tussling in the back seat. At the rate they are going, the family is going to rock the car right onto its side.

[coalessscence]

herb swallows, and it feels too loud. he is suddenly very aware of his every thought and motion. he feels scrutinized- objectified, even- and for once in his wholly inconsiderate life- the irony isn't entirely lost on him. he adjust awkwardly in his seat, but he knows he's losing. vin and inez do have a wonderful relationship and he knows that, he's seen it. he wracks his brain for other differences between he and vin that could account for this. the one he always falls back on is just that vin's a better person, so of course inez likes vin more than lucille likes herb. he's always gotten the impression that inez didn't care for him much either, so to his warped sense of reality, this was only further proof that he was inherently worse and therefore, behaved exactly as he was expected to.

and therein lies the disconnect- or one of them, anyway. herb does what he believes is expected of him, and he's never really respected himself enough to re-evaluate those standards. if people are offended or outraged by his choices, well, that's how it always is- he's always the victim of something, and it just fuels his actions even more. vin has put a stick into the spokes, and he feels as though he is currently flying over the handlebars.

❛uh- you do- you do, uh, do that, don't you.❜ herb nods, leaning back into the booth in semi-defeat. he isn't even sure where else can go from there, but then, vin adds insult to injury. do i?

no one has ever had standards for herb before- or at least, they never used to, and by the time they had developed them he was so far down the other road that he didn't see himself turning around. but vin wastes his time on herb, for some reason, and herb respects vin- for some reason. putting those two things together makes for a tricky dichotomy that herb dreads navigating but cannot escape from.

he shakes his head. ❛i, uh- i reckon you... don't.❜ herb's never seen that happen at any rate, and vin has integrity- herb has no reason to suspect that vin is an entirely different person around anyone else. it's a concept that's almost tough to wrap his mind around.

he fidgets uncomfortably for several dragging seconds, before the final nail in the coffin of his defenses emerges in the form of a question. ❛say, uh- let's say that you've gotta- live up to somebody's standards for you, right? let's say that's awfully important. you've gotta...❜ he clears his throat, ❛...make somebody proud.❜ herb stares so hard at the table, he thinks holes should burn through it. ❛and then- let's say some other people- you've gotta do that for them too.❜ he dares to glance vin's way, aware that this question is all too revealing, but at, frankly, his wit's end on the matter. ❛and the way you're supposed do it for one of them is gonna let the other one down.❜ he clasps his hands on the table and looks out the window at a family of tourists, wondering what their lives are like. they seem to be arguing, but he still can't bring himself to his typical feeling of automatic superiority. ❛what do you do then?❜

[thepolyesterprince-blog]

open starter

[coalessscence]

themostpowerfuleditor‌:

Mary blinked at the offer. Then she found herself nodding, “Um…um…yes….that might be good.” She agreed. “At least getting some air anyways…”

She was unsure about the coffee. Her nerves were already frayed. Adding caffeine would just make the situation worse. Besides, Chris said he was coming to check on Billy so she did not want to go too far. Give the situation Herb was in, she was sure he also did not want to go far either.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, the man’s name was jangling a bell but right now she was too disturbed to worry about it. It was a mystery to be solved later, once Belle recovered.

Not waiting for Herb to reply or make any excuses, she headed for the sliding glass doors. Stepping out into the cold night air, she sucked in a breath and then another. It cleared her head and calmed some of the fears clawing at her heart. Of course Billy would be fine. It was a small bump—nothing like what happened to Steven.

Hearing footsteps coming from the parking lot, she turned slightly and then relaxed when a tall figure in a black coat stepped into the artificial lights of the entryway. “Chris!” She stepped forward to meet the man and eagerly accepted the hug he offered. “Nathan’s with Billy now—he says they’re just running some tests.” She wished she could say more but there was nothing else she could add right now.

Chris smiled slightly, a tiny upturn of his lips that only broke his grim continence for a moment. “If he’s with Nathan, he’ll be fine. Nathan’s pulled the rest’a us through worse.”

Mary nodded, hugging Chris for another moment before stepping back. Suddenly conscious that Herb had been talking about going outside as well, she looked around to see if he had followed through on his plan.

herb watches as she strides ahead of him, feeling almost uninvited to his own offer. it seems that mary is in a rush to get out of the dingy waiting area. he can't blame her for that- he's in a rush to be anywhere but here too. if he leaves, however, he's almost certain he'll wind up at a bar. that's the last thing in the world he needs- hell, it's the last thing in the world that the kids need. he'll have to pick them up from bailey's tonight no matter what goes on with lucille, and they will need a strong parent to be there for them. he's not even sure how much they know; not even sure how much to tell them, or how to go about it. he both hopes for and dreads the arrival of news before he has to go home. his entire life rides on that news.

he's also not sure about being a strong parent that's there for bunny and lil' herb. after all- he barely has any experience with that. he glances to the somewhat outdated desk, where an older woman in an old-fashioned nurse' hat is looking down at some papers.  the scene slams his brain back to a well-suppressed memory- the sound of a gunshot from their living room, he and his mother rushing in to herb. sr's aid as the angry meeting attendants responsible fled. driving to the hospital with a sacrificial couch pillow pressed against his father's side. arriving to the hospital to find his father constantly insisting that herb go away and leave him to recover- to "stop being in the way" and "man up about this" like a "boy his age should". he had turned instead for much needed solace from his mother, only for her to hug him and cry uncontrollably for what felt like hours. he shudders at the remembrance- later on, when herb sr. was doing better and ruby's emotions had changed, he sat silently in the hall counting cracks in the plaster ceiling while he overheard his parents yelling at one another in the hospital room, and the nine-year-old swung his legs from the waiting chair awkwardly, wondering how it would all end.

he isn't sure how he is supposed to handle this situation with his children- he has no idea at all. but he knows he isn't going to handle it like that. he'll never do that to his kids.

he looks up to see that mary is fully outside now. he had intended to go up front for coffee- anything to make the idea of gin less tantalizing- but he hates to stand her up on his own invitation. he pushes himself out of the chair with all of the pent up stress he holds, and approaches the desk. the nurse behind it looks up. ❛we'll be just out here if anything- uh, happens,❜ he tells her quickly, gesturing loosely to the sliding glass door within sight. she nods with a tight smile that he doesn't let himself overthink, dropping a quick thank-you as he shoves his hands back into his pockets and follows mary's footsteps out into the fresh air.

the chilly breeze and the glow of distant parking lot streetlights wash over him the instant he crosses the threshold, looking at her silhouette ahead of him. he doesn't know if this is worse, or better, but it's different, and that's all he'd really been after. he doesn't have time to say anything, however, before a black figure emerges from the dip between streetlights and approaches mary.

herb stands back by the door, hands buried in his pockets, tense and uncertain-looking. the night's soft wind, damp and vibrant, rustles his hair, and sets the lapel of his coat waving just a little. he watches with somewhat a hollow gaze as the two embrace and exchange reassurances over her situation, before smiling a small, closed-mouthed smile to himself and redirecting his gaze to the scuffed concrete he stands on, the feeling of intrusion washing over him.

even to someone as obtrusive and hard-headed as herb tarlek, the situation's message isn't lost on him entirely. here he is, waiting alone on news from one person he cares for and connects with, and hoping to find some common ground with the stranger from the waiting room. but the stranger from the waiting room doesn't need to connect with him. she has other people in her life, of course- as people do. herb does not. he likes to imagine that he doesn't because others won't, but he thinks back to the others at the station offering to do anything for him today, forcing him to take that heart test when his doctor recommended it, offering him a place to stay that time he and lucille got into a fight. he had lied to andy about the reason he couldn't stay at work that morning. those at the station only found out because lucille asked a nurse to notify her friend and herb's coworker jennifer, whom she'd been planning to go to lunch with.

andy had caught up with him at the door leading to the elevator, eyes full of questions, but tone respectful and concerned, telling him to take as much time as he needed and insisting that he'd keep an eye on sales for him while he was gone.

herb presses his lips together and rocks back on his heels, the irony of his own disillusionment sinking in. yeah, he doesn't have anyone- he made it that way. he has no idea how to change it now.

herb feels someone looking his way, and turns his eyes back to mary and her supporting figure. she's looking his way. unsure of how long she has been looking, or if he has missed any conversation that was directed to him, he gives her a tight smile and an awkward nod, stepping back a little closer to the shadows- suddenly wanting to stay out of her way, suddenly aware that she does not need and did not ask for his company.

[paperrcages]

@coalessscence

              ❝ I believe you’re Lorraine? ❞ He gives her one of his oh-so-charming smiles as he extends his hand. ❝ Hi. I’m Eli. Lovely to have you as my date this evening. ❞

[coalessscence]

❝I am- Lorraine Baines.❞ She accepts his offered hand eagerly, but struggles to maintain some sort of dignity. He’s just a regular person, she reminds herself. It’s no different from any other date. And she’s always the confident one on a date- she instigated most of them.

It doesn't make any sense for her to freak out, and she's certain people freak out on Eli all the time. He must be sick of it- and she does need him to enjoy this date with her. That thought brings her pause- she's never needed anything from a date before, so why the change in attitude? As her mother would remind her, he puts his pants on the same as anyone else.

❝I'm honored to come,❞ she assures him brightly, and then offers him her best playful wink- very in-character of her on a date, though perhaps just a touch more flirty than usual. ❝But I bet you say that to everybody who wins a contest.❞

[coalessscence]

femlette‌:

For Juniper, it meant a lot that Bunny wanted to divulge this with her in the first place. She’s truly a sweet girl, incredibly understanding, and Juniper would do anything for her and everything to protect her. What’s a few thoughts compared to a lifetime she’s lived, right? So she listens. As she speaks, a soft smile builds slow. Bunny’s eyes meet her own and Juniper is quick to reaffirm it’s not weird, giving her head a shake in silent reassurance. It was as normal as breathing was! But times do change, and she’s sure the people of this time tried to make it not normal.

What, did they forget all about the Romans? The Greeks, the Aztecs, Feudal times? It crushes Juniper that Bunny felt so separated, clear as day in her eyes as they look at one another. She gives the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a warmer smile.

       “ It’s completely normal, Bunny, “   Juniper consoles, and it’s entirely sincere.   “ You’re not a bad sort of different, and it’s not like it’s unnatural. —I’d like to think it’s similar to a dominant hand. It’s something you’re born with.. “

Her hands fold at her lap again and she shrugs.   “ You’ll meet people that.. won’t understand that, but it won’t be that bad. You’ll meet more that do. “   And now, to try a lighter note.   “ How’d you find out for yourself? “

bunny is relatively certain that her mother will be okay with it- but only relatively. and that’s not to mention her father, whose reaction is certain to be less than stellar. and when her classmates find out! it’s all incredibly over- -whelming. at least someone is supportive. bunny has always been a firm believer in  the idea that friends are family too, and it is times like these that prove it to her.

                            ❝i’m glad you think so. i. uhm-                              i’ve been kind of nervous to                              bring it up to anyone. i am sure                              everyone will have nice intentions                              but- i don’t know if i’ll like what                              they say.❞

she flashes a bright little smile at Juniper.

                             ❝i found out because Janet                                Millhouse from my English                                class invited me to her                                sleepover, and there was                                a lot of over. Not so much of                                the sleep part.❞

 of course, she has suspected prior to that whole experience, but it had only cemented things for her.

                              ❝and yeah, i- know, it                                might be messy at                                times, but- i think i’m                                gonna be able to                                handle it.❞

the girl takes a deep breath, steeling her confidence. she knows her positive outlook on life may not always seem realistic to others, but she wants to feel that she is putting her best foot forward, and she’ll always do her best to leave everything and everyone better than she  found it.

[innocentmanwithabounty]

Vin grins more when Herb honestly admits that he has never had such opportunities before. He is not surprised—most people have not after all. As schools frown more and more on students fighting, Vin knows he will meet more people like Herb in the coming years and fewer like himself.

“Eh…don’t worry ‘bout it too much. I just ‘tract trouble like a magnet.” Vin adjusts his grip on Estella and she settles against him with a contented sigh, her thumb finding its way to her mouth. This is the calmest she has been in days. Babies are creatures of habit on the best days, and her father being in the hospital has upset her routine badly. She is only now accepting this new environment, but only as long as one of her parents or her grandmother is near-by.

He expects, even hopes, that this interview will be short. Herb is clearly miserable about being in the hospital and looks like he will run away if given half-a-chance. Vin cannot blame him as he cannot imagine why anyone likes going to the hospital…yet people still pursue careers and volunteer roles within these places. Maybe it is just him. Maybe he has just had had too many bad experiences in hospitals to view them as anything besides arenas for beating the Grim Reaper for one more round.

At Herb’s suspiciously altruistic offer, Vin narrows his eyes as he looks toward the sales manager and carefully studies him. “You offerin’ that sincerely or are you just sayin’ it ‘cause it seems like the right thing to say?”

[coalessscence]

herb nods absently. he knows the feeling, but he doesn't feel justified in trying to relate to this specific situation, so he resists verbally agreeing. he's already calculating ways to cut this absurdly uncomfortable meeting short without being obvious. surely by now he has done his moral duty as a neighbor and- dare he consider it- friend, and surely by now vin would like to get him out of his hair anyway. herb rocks up on his toes somewhat uncomfortably, unsure of what to say next.

vin takes care of that for him when he challenges his offer. ❛i- what?❜ he adds a fake and incredulous laugh to the question. ❛vin- vin, you know me- i'm being serious here. i mean, would i mess around about something like this?❜ he lets only a beat of silence reign before thinking better of it. ❛actually, uh- don't answer that.❜ he pulls his hands out of his pockets and wanders a little closer to the bed, gesturing emphatically. he meets vin's shrewd gaze and drops a layer of defense that he would normally hold tight with two fists. ❛both. the answer is both. i mean- you know me.❜

this time, he says those words in a dryer, more self-deprecating tone, one that is more honest, as opposed to his previous wheedling argument. ❛i don't know what i'm supposed to do about....this.❜ he shoves his hands back into his pocket like a petulant middle-schooler, pacing to one side and back. ❛but we're neighbors, right?❜ that's as close to un-ironically saying 'friends' as herb can get. ❛and i actually- want to help.❜ he turns back around to meet vin's gaze, feeling incredibly silly and exposed. ❛so, uh- what can i do?❜

[coalessscence]

patiencetaught‌:

IN  her opinion, he didn’t much look like the descriptions or drawings of angels in the books she’d read, but Jenny was almost positive that that’s what this stranger was: a guardian angel who had finally come to save her. Perhaps he didn’t have a golden halo hanging over his head, nor did he have giant, white, feathered wings unfurled out behind him, but Jenny couldn’t imagine any other reason why this man would put himself in-between her and the human equivalent of an armored tank. He had to be some sort of protector, the kind that she’d been praying for to whoever would listen. 

Agatha, however, clearly didn’t think nearly as highly of the man in front of her as her niece did. After all, right now, he was hindrance to doing what she wanted, which was a phenomenon she wasn’t at all used to. Everyone around her had always yielded to her, either because of her temper or her strength, or most commonly, both. No one wanted to stand in front of a moving train, and thus far, no one had even dared try. Except for this man.

❝Punishing a maggot of a child for not doing as it’s told is hardly a crime,❞ Agatha replied sharply, her nostrils still flaring in a way that was reminiscent of a bull about to charge at a matador, a comparison that her hulking appearance did not work to dispel.  ❝Now–❞ her attention seemed to be shifting to Jenny, given the way she lowered herself down to around child’s eye level,  ❝–Jennifer, I suggest you get out from behind this man right now and be thankful that I’ll still be letting you sleep in your bed tonight. If you do not, I cannot promise I’m going to be as kind.❞

This was a ultimatum that Jenny hadn’t been prepared for. Either get out from behind this stranger and face only mild repercussions, or stay where she was, pray that this man would be able to keep her out of her aunt’s reach. Clearly, there was a favorable option, it was just that the trouble was, her angel didn’t seem to be very big, at least, not very big compared to Agatha, and Jennifer was unsure of how long he’d be able to hold out against her in a fight. Because if her angel couldn’t hold Agatha back, Jenny knew that she’d probably be beaten within an inch of her life, or worse. 

This meant that she either got out from behind the stranger and have the guarantee that she would only be minimally punished for her transgression, or, she could stay where she was. If she stayed where she was, there were two possibilities: possibly be saved from this living hell, or be beaten black and blue. Two of those options involved her being punished in some way, which meant her odds were very much against her. But this man was also the first person who’d given her even the smallest taste of HOPE for something better since her father had passed away.

Tiny fists tightened even more on the back of the stranger’s coat, as if steeling herself for defying her guardian.  ❝No thank you, aunt Agatha. I think I’m going to stay right here…❞

T H E R E   I S   little that can get a calm man such as Jacob's blood to the point of a rolling boil, but if anything is going to do it, the words out of this insufferable woman's mouth will. Jacob narrows his eyes ever so slightly in her direction, listening as she continues to berate the child who is cowering behind him in fear. He is not yet very familiar with the systems and laws of this time, but he knows that in his experience, those who treat others so ill- any others, but especially children- are not well-respected in society. He's not sure if what he's about to do is legal or not, but it can't be any more frowned upon than this whole situation already is.

Even as the child offers an upsettingly polite response, Jacob is clearing his throat, gaze level and unafraid, but also cool and controlled, drilling right back into the woman's burning, angry gaze. ❝I'm afraid I cannot agree,❞ he repeats again, one hand reaching around behind him to grasp the hand of the child, and the other ready at his side. He wants to flex the fingers of his free hand, but resists the urge, choosing to look as unassuming as he can for as long as possible.

One of the first things he'd had to do upon this latest revival was find out his current strength- to find out what power the Source still gave him. He still doesn't know if he's immortal or not- even more incentive to do this right the first time, hm?- but he certainly retains a level of ability above the average human, even at this point in their evolutionary progress. There are few upsides to his new life, but at least one of them is knowing that he'd not yet become obsolete.

In one swift motion, he bends down and scoops the child up in one strong arm, spinning around to face the woman once more with the free hand outstretched, ready to block any incoming attacks, just in case. He's not sure how far this woman is willing to go, but the words he just heard her speaking tell him that it may be a lot farther than he's willing to imagine.

❝There is no point in either of you remaining in a situation you do not want,❞ he says, with incredibly forced politeness- nearly condescending in tone. ❝I can't allow this to continue, madam- I'm going to take this young lady away with me today.❞ He didn't imagine he'd acquire a child grocery shopping today- he also never used to imagine he'd become immortal. Some things, you just can't predict- not even if you fancied yourself divine. Especially not if you don't fancy any such thing anymore.

[coalessscence]

andryuska‌:

HER  CONVICTION  STARTLES  HIM  MORE  THAN  IT  PERSUADES  :  brows raise and arms have crossed over his chest, unsure of how to react to what has just happened. he does not think himself worth such emotion —- does not think there will be much interest on her part, if ever she learns the sorry, isolated state of his life. for what is interesting, what is tragic, is hidden beneath too much ice, and is too fragile to see the light. it is too sensitive to ever be shown to someone who has not gained his trust, and as far as he knows, never will.

a frown has settled over his expression, deeper and more cynical than that which had been there before, and there is visible discomfort in his posture. he does not know whether it is because of the words, of the emotions within them, and it does not seem to matter, for it has solidified the caution within, and he must stick to it.

for if she cares so much, if she seems so set to learn something of him, he cannot help but question her motivation for it, and another glance is sent in the direction of those usually peers of hers, who seem to not take much interest in the pair of them. are they trying to be discreet? body shifts in his seat, and hands slip beneath the table to fold in his lap, and when he does glance to lorraine across from him, his gaze is narrowed.

“ can i ask why you would bother to know anyways? ” it is more forward than he has intended to be, but the game of finding it out himself has become stressful. he has to know, or else has to back away. “ i don’t understand why you would sit here. what do you want? i’m clearly not the conversationalist that would make for pleasant company, so what then? ”

Lorraine picks at her sandwich, eyes focused on the chipped Formica table, low-quality overhead lighting giving the bread an off-color. This entire interaction seems to have gotten off on entirely the wrong foot and now she's not sure how to redirect it. She's always been "good with people", but perhaps a better description might be that she's not prone to talk herself into a corner. As such, she never finds her interactions awkward, and she's never had to talk herself out of one. She presses her lips together in discomfort, listening to his somewhat accusatory response.

❝Well, listen,❞ she says finally, her tone more one of mild frustration than of anger or disappointment, ❝I just think it's nice to be nice to people. Maybe you like being alone, and that's okay. I don't, so I thought it would be nice to let you know you don't have to be alone.❞ She shrugs her shoulders up in resignation, pulling a sad piece of lettuce that overhands the crust of the sandwich off to the side, leaving a trail of mustard behind. ❝You don't have to agree. If you don't want to talk to me again you don't have to.❞

She frankly isn't in the mood for this sandwich at all, but she takes a sip of her milk before she continues. ❝I don't want anything. I just like to know people. I guess I assumed most people did too, but I can see that I was incorrect.❞ She's not being sarcastic or passive-aggressive, she just wants to explain. Her tone is matter of fact. She feels as if she is explaining human interaction to a toddler. It seems that no matter how cute she's always thought Andre was, her first impression with him isn't going to land her any favors. She'd be remiss if she said she hadn't hoped that she might be able to end this interaction with a diner date, but now she's just hoping to be able to make eye contact in a hallway on somewhat pleasant circumstances a month from now.

❝Why? What do you have against human interaction?❞ For the first time, a very slight amount negativity creeps into her tone- or at least, as much as goody-two-shoes Lorraine Baines can be negative. ❝And don't say something about how it's not an evolutionary necessity or how other mammals are smarter without it or whatever. You can't play that I'm too smart to need people thing with me, Andre.❞ At this stage, she's accepted that this boy is never going to speak to her again, so she may as well try to get what she can out of the interaction now while her chance remains.

@dubovoye​

[coalessscence]

andryuska‌:

LEAVE  HIM  ALONE!  closed hand will be imprinted with the outlines of the keys against his palm, and his brow, so deeply furrowed, will surely become fixed in the posture. the frustration that bleeds through his icy demeanor, like the ice that frosts through the windows of an empty and cold home, has swelled up from somewhere deep within his core. it is rooted not in the shallow want for silence, but in something else, something secretive and protective and afraid.

his gaze remains fixed upon the ground before, as though determined not to spare her too much attention.

he does not know why this aversion to company has come so strongly in this moment, but when it holds him, he finds no desire to escape that irate grasp. his life a mess, a collection of secret shames and fears and failures, need not be spilled out upon the lawn at some random house party. when finally his boyfriend remembers that he is here, he does not want to be in emotional ruin : even anatole does not know that much about him, that he might be comfortable exposing that raw, ugly emotion.

“ no, not really. ” his response is stiff and unnatural, and his shoulders have raised slightly, as though feeling a chill settled over him, sudden and springing from within the cold encasement that protects his soul. arms crossed over his front tighten, like armor over his heart.

lips are pursed, and he spares her another quick and disapproving glance, before turning away and shaking his head, one curl bobbing nearly over his forehead. a hand escapes to push it back ( to retain the stiff order of his appearance out of habit ) before returning to its prison over his chest. “ i don’t think anyone leaves a party in the hope that they’ll be followed and spoken to. ”

Mira CERTAINLY can't fault him for that, she thinks to herself, but her agreement is hidden behind a mask of a calm and cheerful exterior. The OBVIOUS thing for her to do would be to leave him alone as he's requested, however, she has a mission that she hasn't disclosed. In fact, she doesn't want to. A casual glance around, painted in her movements as a simple attempt to take in the night sky, allows her to see over her shoulder, where the party continues unchecked. She can see certain figures moving in the back; she doesn't know if she saw things that were real or remembered, but she saw SOMETHING in there.

If it's someone that she used to KNOW- well, she doesn't want to think about that. She feels the blood rush to her head as a flight-or-fight response slams into her veins like a runaway train. Years of practice keep her OUTWARD appearance and posture almost entirely unchanged; she hopes her new companion on the veranda doesn't notice. If he was watching closely enough, he'd be able to see her knuckles turn WHITE as her grip on the handrail increases involuntarily, all at once less aesthetic and more to support her faltering weight. In mere moments, she has swallowed hard and taken the fear with it. She blinks out at the smattering of cars haphazardly abandoned in the yard of the house party, wondering if she would recognize any of them. Surely, no one who she's ever been... involved with would still be driving the same car.

She glances to the side, forcing a POLITE smile over her face to stamp down imagery she couldn't handle seeing again tonight. She understands that he feels threatened by the way her methods press for vulnerability, and she knows the FEELING. She's not sure how she'd respond if someone was able to try to press her in the way that she can press others, but she'd probably have a very adverse reaction. She lives her whole life on the philosophy of hiding. She can't imagine that will ever change, especially not now.

❝Of COURSE,❞ she says wisely, ❝you're very right.❞ She finally pries her hands off the railing, folding her arms in front of her in some kind of odd self-hug that she HOPES looks non-committal, and not desperate, because it FEELS desperate. ❝I suppose that makes me the strange one, seeking company outside a social event, doesn't it?❞ He's welcome to respond, but it's a rhetorical question, and she doesn't imagine he'll be enthusiastic about theorizing on the subject with her.

She shoves a lock of recently-bleached hair behind her ear, still regaining her composure from her experiences inside. She considers this solitary man her last hope if something really goes awry, and maybe he WON’T want to help her at all. Maybe she won't need help. She should just RUN AWAY, but she doesn't have a car and she is afraid to be alone in the night, walking. She's afraid to drive alone too, if she's being honest. She can only imagine that she would wind up in a ditch somewhere after an inexplicable hit-and-run.

❝Did you attend this party WITH anyone?❞ She would glance toward the party for emphasis, but she can't stand to turn around. ❝I did, myself. I suppose this is the issue with it- once you're done with the party, it's hard to leave without making a fuss for everyone else.❞

@dubovoye​

[coalessscence]

"When did Hell begin for you?“

ACCEPTING || send this to hear about something that made my muse lose faith in humanity

herb brushes a hand over the piano keys nearby, determined to have another outlet for his nervous energy. nervous? he’s not nervous! herb tarlek does not get nervous. the pause is drowned in a hard swallow, in a long step to one side, in the last off-color notes of the piano ringing out in a tone of soft uncertainty. ❝this piano is black… you know, uh, most the ones you see these days are- brown.❞ he clears his throat, wondering if the distraction has worked well enough, if he’s off the hook, if the bait has swam away. the eyes still stick him, prod for answers, the tone of voice comes again, a little firmer this time. he glances back down at the piano keys, his jacket clasped lifeless in unsure hands. the piano, as it turns out, is not a good distraction- not only because it does not work, but because it is too connected to the question at hand. herb tarlek doesn’t believe in energy or spirituality or any such nonsense, but if he did, this would be one of those times that proved him right.

he nods once, accepting his uncomfortable fate, and takes a wandering step or two away from the piano; away from his current failure, and taking an equally uncomfortable mental step into his perceived past ones. ❝i guess-❞ he hesitates, teetering on a precipice, clawing at the ground above but staring at the earth below. ❝i guess uh, when mom went out to new york.❞ he lowers himself onto the bench of the piano, but facing away from the traitorous keys. a careful choice. ❝she had to of course. it was for her work, you see. it was very important.❞ herb doesn’t say that it was more important than her son (more important than his life!) but he doesn’t have to. he’d not in several million years say the words and perhaps he doesn’t know the words exist, but if he could find a way to say them, he could swear on the bible itself and get them out with nary a complaint.

❝and, you know- dad was pretty busy. i mean, he had to make ends meet, and…❞ he trails off, nervous fingers fidgeting about his wedding ring. it twists this way and that, and his eyes stare intently into the motion, but they don’t seem to see anything that is truly there. ❝and, you know, that’s not an easy thing, let me tell you.❞ he clears his throat again. no matter how many times he does it, the words still get caught. maybe it’s not a physical issue. maybe herb still doesn’t understand that. ❝so that was, uh… that was pretty tough. for dad, you know. but it- it wasn’t my favorite, i guess you could say.❞

what does a child do when the only person in the world that he feels safe with abandons him? what does a child do when the person he idolizes more than anyone else in the world follows suit? what can a child do when nothing he does is ever enough for either one of them, and nothing he learns from those three experiences can teach him how to live without them?

well, perhaps that child grows into the man on the piano bench. perhaps that child can’t meet your eyes and can’t get out the right words. perhaps that child can’t identify the right words to get out. perhaps this man did not learn much past being a frightened child at all.

[innocentmanwithabounty]

When Lorraine loops her arm through his free one, Vin complies and lets them keep walking up the sidewalk. He absorbs her explanation raptly, considering both her words and the implications behind them. There is quite a bit of weight in her words and he has to mull them over. Lorraine often has a thought or two she is considering when she begins a conversation like this.

As she reaches the end of her explanation, Vin frowns worriedly. He is not denying her desire but confusion remains. “Well Miss Lorraine…like I said, I wouldn’t mind. But…why me? There’s a lotta fellers in town…they got better jobs ‘en me and a better standin’ in town.”

His mind still runs like he is living in the 1860s when a responsible man had a decent set-up in place before he started courting young ladies. He has no such set-up in place and can offer nothing to a young lady—especially one like Lorraine who is used to the finer things in life.

He draws to a stop, pulling his arm free from Lorraine and turning to face her. “I ain’t ‘xactly the kind’a feller ladies should be interested in. I could buy you a nice dinner but that’s ‘bout it.”

He can afford dinner and maybe find them a nice place to go dancing but that is all he can really offer her for a nice evening out. If Lorraine is dead-set on this…Valentine’s plan, she has to realize that there will not be much in such a relationship for now…or for quite some time in the foreseeable future.

[coalessscence]

Vin seems to be taking this particularly seriously, and Lorraine isn't sure how she is meant to respond to that. She doesn't think of it as a big deal- or rather, she does, but not a serious one. If she doesn't get her way, it's true that she'll be devastated (and more determined than ever before), but it's not as if she's asked him to get married! Still, she walks in pace with him, letting the silence build behind the tidal wave of her impatient anticipation.

His response is one that she frankly did not expect. She might have thought he'd agree cheerfully, or that he'd decline- saying that she was too forward, or moving too fast, or even just that he wasn't interested in her. But this is somewhere in between. She is momentarily disappointed by his wording, "i wouldn't mind it," as if it means nothing one way or the other. Lorraine wants passion and enthusiasm, not a lackadaisical acceptance.

But she hears him out anyway. And while listening and understanding isn't always her strong suit, she's hoping that she's reading in between the lines correctly- pulling all of her past dating experience together to try and form a profile for this very strange young man.

❝Well,❞ she says lightly, her tone playful- teasing, even- ❝there are lots of boys in town,❞ she admits, looking up at him with round eyes, ❝and maybe they even have nicer jobs.❞ she adds, nodding sagely. She grins, standing up on her tip-toes in front of him, placing her hands on his shoulders- as forward as she dares to be in the middle of the street. ❝But they're not as smart... or as funny... or as handsome...❞ and on the last point, she leans in just an inch or two more. ❝They aren't you.❞

She holds eye contact for a moment or two of silence after this forward approach, before she rocks back onto her heals, clasping her hands behind her back. ❝Besides, it isn't all that much. It's not like we're getting married- we're just having dinner. If you don't want to do that again later, we don't have to.❞ She leans to one side, arms still clasped behind her, dimpled smile shot up at him with a playful lilt. ❝What do you say?❞

[coalessscence]

andryuska‌:

WITHIN  THICK  FORESTS  DEATH  AWAITS  :  it wanders listlessly through the endless siberian landscape, over frozen streams and around birds that still their cries when it approaches. it is the clouds that may form, at any moment, on a clear horizon and cover the land with snow once more, and it is the way his clothes cling to his bones, and promise no warmth. andrei knows that he will die out here alone, and that it will soon be too late for him. he feels it in the heaviness of each breath, and in how his heart strains with every unsteady beat. the man, a stranger, who might be bringing him into still deeper danger, is right. andrei hasn’t much time.

and so, because he will only survive if he follows, and because all hope of completing his task has been lost, and because he knows that back in the west, revenge ( and a death more befitting his fallen soul ) is waiting for him, impatient and ever important, he follows. boots trudge through the snow to catch up the other, then steady to match his pace. ( his legs have gone beyond pain, and through every step burns, he is almost too numb to feel it. )

a military man through and through, his hands ball in his pockets, but no complaint is lodged to the cold, which neither of them will cure until they reach this nameless village that the other has mentioned. those hands emerge only to wipe the ice from his eyelashes, and from the pieces of hair that hang in his forehead, before hiding away once again. his fingernails, had he the time to notice them, would have been startling shades of blue and purple.

“ bolkonsky, ” a gruff voice answers as they walk, the word accompanied by the thick mist of his breath in the cold. the hues will occasionally glance up to the empty sky above, and wonder if it has abandoned its apathy —- if that heightened power will begin to care, as his life nears its end —- but it always returns the same cold beauty that bears deeply into his soul, and at the same time gives him nothing.

“ i’ve come from the war in the west. surely word of it has reached this place? ”

T R I N I T Y   is a powerful organization, and Jacob knows he cannot be too careful. Anyone could be sent his way. He knows Trinity comes from a distinctly British area these days, but that doesn't have to mean anything. It's easy to say what they want: the Source. If they knew more about it, perhaps they would not be so reckless in their desires. In any case, the pair begin a slow and, for his new guest, painful, trek up the mountainside, out of the forest, towards Jacob's village.

There is no one that Jacob would not save, if given the opportunity. It's not only because of his perceived debt, because of the harms he's convinced he must answer for someday- or would, if he ever got the opportunity to go before God and face his reckoning. He will not have such an experience; he will exist forever on this cursed earth, facing the penance of his own design that he has crafted to take the place of the punishment he has wrongfully dodged. It would be remiss to ignore this; but Jacob has that inherit something. Perhaps the Source has no divinity, but Jacob always did. He would no more leave his murderer to die than his own brother.

Jacob, impervious to cold, watches the other man pick at the ice forming on his face and shove blue-tinged hands into snow-encrusted pockets. His own body heat is steady and unending; and he elects to monitor the situation. He has a warm coat on that he does not need, and if it becomes dire, he will gladly offer it to the other. Of course, he imagines that even in a matter of life and death, the chances of this being accepted would be slim. Jacob can't imagine he would be able to take no for an answer.

He nods once in response to the name, offering no further questions or disagreements. ❝Little word reaches us here,❞ he admits. ❝you will be the first visitor in as many decades.❞ The sun beats down on them, the crunch of snow echoing in the thinning trees, and the ice seems only to get colder with each step. ❝Is it serious?❞ He wonders if it will further effect the bubble of his people's world.

@dubovoye​

[coalessscence]

iwillmakemystandhere‌:

Vin is out of the house, bound for the airport to pick up Inez’s parents and her grandmother. It has been a long trip for them from Sonora to Los Angeles, to Chicago and then over to Cincinnati. Luckily, they are staying until the New Year and Inez already planned the return trip to be easier on them all.

There are several factors prompting the long visit. A second grandbaby on the way is one of them. Alona and Vidal having to move here after Francisco and Sofia’s death is another. Moreover, they can only afford to visit Inez and her family rarely so they make the most of each visit.

Still, it is too early for Vin to be back. Besides, he would never use the doorbell. A hand on her rounding stomach, Inez manages to sidestep Pard in his quest to race her to the door. She reaches it just before the young dog does, opens it, and stares quizzically at the blonde. Her first thought is that the woman represents some charity support group that one of Inez’s co-workers tactlessly signed her up for. On the verge of politely but firmly rebuffing the woman with assurances that she and her husband are perfectly capable of feeding and housing four children, she realizes that the woman has another connection entirely.

A half-remembered incident of her and Vin having to drop Lucille off at the radio station floats to her mind. Herb’s wife had to have the car towed and needed her husband to drive her home so they had found themselves dropping her off on the way to the grocery store. The blonde had been behind the reception desk.

“Oh!” her eyes widen in confused recognition as she blocks Pard’s escape with her foot. “Oh yes, I remember you now Miss Marlowe!”

The woman’s insistence on bringing holiday cheer to near-strangers is odd but Inez does not want to seem rude. “Please, come in!” Leaning back, she calls over her shoulder. “Vidal! Come get Pard before he goes charging out and gets lost in a snowdrift!”

Not that there is much chance of that. Pard is a Burmese Mountain Dog. Young and half-grown as he is, he is still a large animal who is currently lunging over her leg in an effort to sniff Jennifer’s shoes as a security precaution before she enters the house. All the time his stubby tail wags away in a happy blur.

A bog, almost seven, runs up the hall and grabs Pard’s collar. “Come on boy!” he tugs on the collar, barely distracting the dog until he rubs behind Pard’s ears. Then Pard yips happily and lets Vidal lead him down the hall, giving Jennifer room to step in off the porch.

“Let me give you a hand—you know you really didn’t have to do all of this! We’ve only met…what…once? Twice?” Inez kindly admonishes as she ushers Jennifer into her home.

Jennifer's FAVORITE time of year is encapsulated in this scene. The weather; crisp air and bright snow, the mood; kind strangers and shared cheer. Jennifer knows that her holiday traditions are unconventional, but if she has learned ANYTHING in life it's that if you are confident enough, and beautiful enough, no one will be brave enough to question that which you do.

                    ❝Thank you,❞

The blonde GUSHES, accepting entrance to the inviting home quickly so as not to risk the escape of the pet at her feet.

                    ❝I know that PERHAPS this is forward of me,❞

She continues, in response the playful admonishment Inez tosses her way,

                    ❝but you must understand- everyone that I                     see all year is sending me all sorts of holiday                     cheer during the MONTH of December.                     Why, I don't have the space in my apartment                     to contain it. The least I can do is to share.❞

It's a juggling act to get the items in her hands re-arranged, so that Inez can take the PLATE from the top without EVERYTHING crashing down, but as they move into the hallway, it seems things are getting back under control.

                    ❝And isn't SHARING what Christmas is all about?❞

The last is spoken with a BLINDING bright smile, light blonde curls framing a porcelain face with rose-tinted cheeks and an impeccable certainty that comes from ALWAYS knowing your worth.

Meanwhile, the young boy whose name she'd just heard called has corralled the excited dog at her feet, to whom she PAUSES to extends a now free gloved hand in greeting. Her eyes land on the child, however. Jennifer would not say that she is good with children. It is true that she played a large part in raising her siblings back home, but that was YEARS AND YEARS ago, and she has never been interested in motherhood or the family life.

                    ❝Hello, Vidal, I don't think we've MET. I'm Jennifer.❞

She greets him brightly, her tone telling him that she had NEVER had such an honor as to make his acquaintance.