shit'll buff out @cooperbuchanan-blog - Tumblr Blog

delaney:

Delaney paused when she heard the commotion, turning towards the scene. If anything, she was slightly amused, though the other half of her was annoyed that people though acting out in public like that was okay. She pushed an onlooker out of the way, sending people glares until they backed up. She bent down to pick up the box, meeting Cooper’s gaze, “That’s what happens when you don’t get your coffee in the morning,” she hummed, going along with his joke before she stood up, offering him her hand. Even though she wasn’t tall enough to offer much help when he got up, she figured it was the least she could do. She’d studied the man’s case – simply out of her own curiosity, but she didn’t tell him that. “Delaney Nixon. And your Monday definitely could’ve gone a bit better. On the brightside, you have an excuse to go right home and get a new shirt.”

“I s’pose I might’ve cut him in line at the cafe, or maybe I didn’t hold the door open long enough for him to slip through- either way I probably deserved it.” Cooper shook his head at his own suggestion, but the smile on his face became less forced and more genuine as he maintained the light conversation. He accepted the delicate hand that was offered to him, but considering their differences in both height and weight, opted to use his own momentum to stand up. “Are you implyin’ that there’s something wrong with what I’m wearin’? I mean, ya might not’ve heard, but walkin’ around with goop all over ya is the next big thing. All the kids are doin’ it.” A wink accompanied his playful words, as he shook the hand that still rested in his. “Cooper Buchanan, it’s a pleasure to meet ya.” Upon releasing his grip, he realized that the red substance had spread from him to her. “Sorry about that, feel free to clean off on the dry part of my shirt.”

#c; delaney #she's fantastic #also A++ fc

sutton:

She’d only caught the tail-end of the exchange — or more accurately, the assault, but it was enough to make Sutton’s blood boil. “Hey! Hey, you!” she called after the assailant. “Does your mama know what a bully she raised?” The man retreated, paying no mind to her scolding, but she knew that he heard her, and that made her feel marginally better. Next, she turned to the onlookers, frozen still and gaping at her friend. “Pick your mouths up off the ground and quit starin’,” she said. “This ain’t a beauty pageant. Now get.” Slowly, the small crowd began to dissipate, murmuring their dissatisfaction.

When she turned to her friend, both the venom in her voice and the anger on her face were gone. “Here, I’ve got this for ya,” she said, kneeling next to him and placing her hands on the box he’d dropped. When she tried to pick it up, she realized it was heavier than it looked. “Actually, no, I don’t, but it’s the thought that counts,” she said, patting the top of it. She was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not fair, Coop,” she said with a sigh. “Why do you let them treat you like that? I’ve a mind to go file a police report myself.”

A breathy, solitary laugh fell from Cooper’s lips as he instantly recognized Sutton’s voice in the crowd—her incredibly distinct accent never failing to remind him of home. What she lacked in size she more than made up for in attitude, and the choice words she had for the man who attacked him, melted any anger that was growing in his heart. He simply watched as she attempted to pick up the box before thinking better of that idea. “Damn straight, and I do appreciate the thought.” Taking advantage of the momentary lull in conversation, Cooper made his way to his feet before using a knuckle to wipe red goo away from one of his eyes.

“We both know that’d do more harm than good. Do I need to remind ya of the last time I called ‘em about somethin’ like this? I was hauled away in handcuffs in front of my kid. Do me a favor and leave it be. Please.” He pleaded with her to not go to the police, knowing that a good chunk of the force were just as doubtful as the public when it came to his innocence, and that some were searching for a reason to arrest him. “It’s a shirt, and maybe a touch more humiliation if one of those rubberneckers caught it on camera. Daisy’s not here, he didn’t go after my truck, I’m not hurt, what more could I ask for? Hell, he could know and love her like I do, and think that I, well, ya know... I ain’t about to take away his right to grieve.”

#c; sutton

lyla:

She took her foot away and smiled as the paper stayed down on the pavement. “Thank you! I sure hope so, the old toilet paper trick for embarrassment is never too old.”

“No problem. And hey, at least it was clean.” Shuffling a step backwards, Cooper noticed that the paper traveled with him, and it elicited a gentle laugh. “Well would ya look at that...” Grinding the toe of his boot into the concrete, he was able to free himself from the tissue. “Name’s Coop, by the way. I figure after sharin’ something so intimate, we should at least catch each other’s names.”

#c; lyla

ivy:

Ivy had been putting in her daily workout of jogging when put of nowhere, she felt the splashes of a red substance bounce and splatter on a guy who she had noticed was ahead of her hit her. “Mother fucker,” Ivy stated as she noticed the guy who had did it. She nearly tripped over the boxes that the guy had knocked from the man’s hands and in frustration, Ivy tripped the guy. “get up and leave or I’ll make sure real blood is stained over your shirt like you did to his and mine,” She said to the guy, lucky her shades covered her eyes. “Now get the fuck up and walk away puta,” She said. She sighed, looking down at her favorite workout shirt. “fuck,” She sighed before leaning down to help the guy gather his things. “listen, you’re a big ass guy. You could probably have knocked that pipsqeak out,”

"I reckon I could've jacked him up real good, but all that'd do is earn me a few nights in jail and an even worse reputation." Cooper wanted those last couple words back as soon as they had left his mouth, knowing that he'd have to explain and defend himself if she questioned what he meant. Dipping his head, he quickly switched topics. "I do apologize about you and your shirt becomin' collateral damage though. I'd gladly pay for you to replace it, if you'd let me." Rising from his kneeling position, he slid his wallet out of the back pocket of his worn blue jeans and opened it to inspect its contents. “If it’s worth more than a Queen Elizabeth...” he tugged a twenty dollar bill out and into view, “I’m goin’ to need to make a quick trip to an ATM”.

#c; ivy

angelica:

“No… No, I don’t really believe in strange monsters like that.” She said confused by his smile and whether he was making fun of her. “Aliens though, far more believable.” Angelica said slowly and trying to return the smile.

“I’d have to agree with ya on that. As big as the universe is, there’s gotta be somethin’ more out there than just us.” Cooper’s head nodded along with his words reassuringly. “Now, what’re your thoughts on the Tooth Fairy?” A gentle laugh broke across his lips after the ridiculous question. “I’m just joshin’ ya with all this. The name's Coop, by the way.”

#c; angelica

derekthelerholic

#|| not here for a long time / here for a good time;

madison:

Madison had been on a run to get her system moving after a slow morning at work, and only accidentally ran right into a group of people that seemed to be very enamored by a scene that she thought of as quite ridiculous, and offending to humanity. She watched in disbelief, wondering when exactly they had turned back into animals. Especially when nobody moved to help the man. Pushing right through a pair of old ladies whispering, she squatted down in front of the other to help him pick up the box that had been knocked out of his hands. “They always do.” She agreed, a smile growing on her lips. “Do you need help cleaning that up?” She added then, gesturing toward the paint splattered all over his shirt.

Cooper’s words were less of an expectation of assistance and more of a hint to the spectators that there was nothing more to see; so when an ethereal blonde appeared in front of him emanating kindness, he was slightly taken aback. It wasn’t a reaction that he found to be all that common in Montreal, for good reason. “Well I was thinkin’ I’d just leave it...” Tugging the cotton away from his torso, he tried to get a better look at the red mess that had consumed his front. “But I s’pose this is a touch more noticeable than I thought... I’m not exactly sure what the best course of action would be to clean this up, so yeah, if you’re offerin’ help, I’d gladly accept some.”

#c; madison

lyla:

“Oh, wow, well that’s kinda gross.” She chuckled as she looked down and tried to sidestep and catch the paper with the point of her other shoe and rid of it. “Could you catch it? This isn’t easy with these heels.” She grinned. The thing has latched itself tightly on her sharp heel.

Cooper watched as she struggled a bit, but before he could offer his help, she requested it. “Yeah, I gotcha.” Planting his work boot against the exposed tissue, he continued, “go on and take a step - you should be in the clear. And don’t sweat it, there's a solid chance I was the only one who noticed.”

#c; lyla

angelica:

Angelica had thought she’d heard wrong the first time and her broad jumped up at the repetition. “Well, I…” She began and her mouth stood open while her brain worked on how to be nice and honest at the same time. “I think if you think that’s… Uhm, Bigfoot, then you… Uhm, that’s interesting.” She fished for words.

Cooper got a kick out of the woman’s reaction, and a childish grin danced across his lips. “Not a big believer in Bigfoot?” he asked, mostly rhetorically. “I won’t think any less of ya. It was really just an ice breaker. Consider yourself lucky that I didn’t ask ya to play ‘where’s waldo’ with a picture of the night’s sky and an imaginary UFO, ‘cause that’s another favorite of mine.”

#c; angelica

remington:

“Just another day in paradise, right?” The Aussie just offered Cooper a smile, bending his own tall form down towards the ground to pick up what was knocked out of the other man’s hands. It wasn’t difficult to know why the stranger had reacted the way they did, but even then, people were brutal, especially towards those they didn’t really know. Remington stood up straight, offering his hand to Cooper before he looked at the man’s shirt, “You took that…well,” he said finally, clearing his throat so he didn’t stammer out of nervousness, “You need a new shirt. And…a few napkins.”

Cooper wasn’t looking to suck Remi into his drama, and he certainly wasn’t fishing for sympathy or pity, but it’d be a lie to say that he didn’t appreciate the kindness. Small, simple gestures of humanity were worth more to him now than ever before. Accepting the hand that was offered, he pulled himself up off the ground and went to work on wiping the red droplets from his face with the collar of his tee shirt. “No other way to take it...” he began in his signature southern drawl, his voice muffled just slightly by his movements. “Can’t fight ‘em- there’s always someone with a camera waitin’ to film ya and post it online. I’d end up in a lawsuit I can’t afford.” A shrug accompanied his words as he collected the box from Remi. “I’m a grown man, I can handle a wrecked shirt and some public shamin’, or whatever the point of this is s’posed to be.”

#c; remington

Four blocks—that’s how long the stranger had been tailing Cooper before gathering the courage to actually confront him. A few nasty but ultimately harmless insults were hurled at him, followed by an introduction to the wrong end of a squirt gun filled with a sticky, red substance. It was either paint or ketchup, but that didn’t matter, the intention was clear and his wife’s metaphorical “blood” was splattered all over his face and chest. Cooper stoically stood his ground, refusing to give the man the reaction that he sought. In retaliation, or perhaps frustration, the man knocked a box out of Cooper’s hands before taking off down the sidewalk. As he lowered himself to a kneeling position, the whispers of bystanders filled his ears, and his rising anxiety levels presented as a growing tightness in his chest. “Mondays are the worst, aren’t they?” The tone of the question was light, punctuated by a fake laugh and directed at the onlookers, in an attempt to diffuse the awkward situation.

#mrp: chat #cooper's been in montreal for about 2 years #some people think he killed his missing wife #assume connections #or shoot me a message if you want to plot :)

angelica:

“W-wait, again, what is this exactly?” She asked the person as she looked down at what they were showing her.

“Bigfoot. Sasquatch. Whatever ya wanna call it. It’s tough to see, but I’m pretty certain it’s him.” Coop fiddled with his phone, trying to zoom in on a shadowy figure in the picture that he took during his last trail ride. “I know it’s not concrete evidence or anything, but...” His voice trailed off as he turned the phone back towards her. “What'd’ya think?”

#c; angelica

feliks:

“I don’t look that bad,” Feliks spoke, inhaling the cigarette smoke. The words of his manager still echoed in his head, that he looks horribly tired and should get some rest. He reluctantly left work early, deciding to come in fist thing tommorow to add the final details to an extravagant wedding gown. But for now, he was occupied with smoking. Rubbing his tired eyes, he looked to the person next to him. “Do I?”

Accustomed to cold shoulders and slick comments about being a murderer, Cooper was slightly surprised when the stranger beside him threw an innocent question in his direction, and he jumped at the chance to answer it. “You could look a hell of a lot worse. Your eyes kinda have that ‘burnt holes in a blanket’ thing goin’ on, but squirt some drops in ‘em and you’ll be good as new.” What he considered to be helpful and non-intrusive advice rolled off his tongue in a drawl as he continued. “And I don’t want to get preachy, but that smoke sure ain’t helpin’ things.”