― ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ

i get it, i get it, I'm living too hard and it's time that I stop it. but rising on up and then tumbling down well. it's part of the process bar tabs on a hot night in a cold basement you say I'm crazy but I feel amazing. ♡ penned by lis

[cxntslxxp]

INTRODUCING ~

did I just see JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER walking down the street? no, that was ELIAS ‘ELI’ ARCHER! he/they are a 37 year old who identifies as a CIS MALE. I hear that they spend their days as a RECORD STORE CLERK at SUNSET SOUNDS. last I heard, they’ve been in town for SIX MONTHS and were living in DOWNTOWN. some people would say that they’re INTUITIVE & GUARDED, but I wouldn’t judge a book by its cover!

tw: small mention of death?

basics name: eli archer age: 37 gender: cismale pronouns: he/him orientation: pansexual birthplace: brooklyn, nyc family: samuel (father) & beatrice (mother) archer height: 6'0 build: lean, long-limbed hair : blonde, worn longer and tied back sometimes but usually a mess of blonde waves around his shoulders accent: predominately american, traces of a british accent surface when he's relaxed or tired tattoos: a half sleeve on his right arm (a collection of random tattoos he collected over his time touring) not one single theme and that's obvious, a black and grey forest line along his upper left arm, a large moth on his shoulder blades, a few poorly done stick & poke tattoos, a collection of faded tattoos on his hands he needs to get touched up eventually and a patchwork of smaller, more impulsive tattoos. piercings: each ear has anywhere between 2-4 piercings, with a small ring in his left nostril and remnants of an eyebrow piercing he could put back in if he really tried. vices: coffee, cigarettes, late nights style: layers, dark neutrals, thrifted handedness: left sleep: inconsistent, not much pet peeves: loud chewing, bad playlists aesthetics: late-night closing shifts, dust in record store light, black coffee gone cold, unfinished songs, guitar strings worn thin, quiet walks home with headphones on but no music playing, standing at the edge of the room, choosing quiet over noise, crumpled notebook pages stuck together with coffee spills.

~ about ~

 elias isn’t from jasper and never pretended he was. he moved there deliberately after leaving a much louder life behind, one shaped by constant noise, expectation, and creative pressure. jasper wasn’t meant to be permanent at first, it was supposed to be somewhere he could breathe. the fact that he’s stayed longer than planned says more than he’ll admit out loud.

music has always been central to his life, but it’s also complicated. he plays guitar and piano, writes songs he rarely shows anyone, and notices patterns in music other people would easily miss. he used to perform regularly, even seriously, but that part of him is fractured. now, music is private - something he treats with care rather than ambition.

he doesn't talk much about why he left music and touring to end up in jasper. not because it's a secret but because it still feels too heavy. after losing a bandmate, he tried to keep going, kept hitting the road and playing shows, but it never felt the same. realistically he knew they would want him to keep playing and touring but at the same time it feels like eli is moving on too quickly. jasper isn't about staring over, its just a quieter place where he can keep music close without letting it consume him.

at the record store, elias is quietly indispensable. he doesn’t upsell or push trends; instead, he listens. customers often leave with records they didn’t ask for but somehow needed. he’s the person the owner trusts with closing shifts, special orders, and broken equipment, even if he never quite feels like he’s earned that trust.

personality: elias is friendly enough, but he tends to hang back. people pick up that he’s polite but almost reserved, like there’s always the sense he’s holding something back. he notices a lot, feels a lot more, but he’s better at listening than letting anyone really know him.

~ wanted connections ~

the fan/regular customer: someone who’s heard him play before, maybe followed his old gigs or online stuff? he wasn’t super well known, so he doesn’t expect anyone in jasper to recognize him, which makes it kind of surprising when they do. could end up being a friend who convinces him to play/share a song now and then? the local friend – someone in jasper who notices elias without pushing him. they don’t demand much, just hang around, share quiet moments, and offer a sense of connection when he needs it. the kind of friend who makes him feel seen without forcing him out of his comfort zone.

but i'm open to really anything tbh :)

[rdiotwrs]

nash had a sharp eye watching the other touch the gramophone. it wasn't that he didn't trust the man who worked there, but he was just... worried that something so precious to him could fall apart at any second. not even the questions about it brought him out of his trance, though he did still answer with a simple, "i don't know," as his eyes continued following every movement. he knows the answer is vague and it obviously doesn't help, but he really didn't know much about it at all. it was his wife's, and she was the one who would fix it up in an instant without it looking like it ever broke. after she passed, nash had used it so much that it did eventually break, but the grief made him take so long to finally bring it somewhere to get it looked at. his eyes finally lift up to look the other in the face. "it's not been touched in... probably ten years... maybe a little less. i didn't want to risk breaking it more," he confesses. he prayed that it wasn't broken beyond repair since it hadn't been messed with in so long, though nash was already starting to think that maybe it was.

[cxntslxxp]

eli lets his fingers drift along the grooves a moment longer, letting the texture of the wood and the cool metal settle under his touch. he doesn’t rush; there’s a reason to how he moves, slow and deliberate, like he’s listening through his fingertips. finally, he lifts his gaze to nash. "ten years, huh," he says, voice calm, almost like he’s thinking out loud more than speaking to anyone. "that’s… actually not bad. it’s been left alone long enough to settle, not long enough to do it any real harm."

his thumb brushes along a screw and the edge of the base, following the lines like he’s memorizing them. "sometimes… letting something be is the best thing you can do. it’s fragile, sure, but the quiet keeps it alive." eli’s eyes move over the turntable again, noting scratches, worn spots, and the subtle wear from time. "it’s a little like people," he mutters, almost to himself. "neglect doesn’t always ruin you - sometimes it just waits until someone knows what to do with it."

he straightens slightly, finally meeting nash’s eyes. "don’t worry," he adds, hoping the calm tone of his voice settles any of his worries. "we’ll get it spinning again."

[flreclouds]

at this point she knows most if not all of the regulars' orders. at least the ones who come during her morning shift. she's always friendly, chatty with the customers who seem open, brief but kind to those who don't seem to want conversation. she's had some regulars order and then chat as she makes their drinks and then a few drinks after — no one cares so long as she keeps working — even including multiple customers in conversation. she's sure she's inadvertently introduced new friends to each other that way. so eli's usual order, always the same, always simple, is easy, and the lack of conversation is expected. once the line depletes, she starts to doodle on a cup with her sharpie, cleanly drawn lines swirling around as she draws a family of raccoons around the cup. but her attention drifts from the bar to where he's sat in the corner, head tilting as she considers what he might be doing. zaina arches an eyebrow at his question, shrugging. "i think you look like you are doing something just as important as what i'm doing." she holds up her raccoon-covered cup.

[cxntslxxp]

eli’s eyes follow the cup when she lifts it, attention catching on the raccoons like they have been in this situation before. a small, easy smile settles at the corner of his mouth. “okay, that’s definitely more productive,” he says, nodding toward the cup. “i've just been… staring at this practically blank page for the past twenty minutes.” he glances down at the notebook, then back up at her, a little sheepish but not bothered by it. “if this counts as doing something important, i think the bar’s been set mercifully low.”

his gaze returns to the raccoons, studying them like they might offer an answer. “they’re good, though,” he adds “kind of suit the morning crowd.” he shifts in his chair, thumb tapping once against the table before stilling. “you draw on a lot of cups, or is it just painfully slow today?”

[joeyxlee]

Honesty was all Joey knew so she turned to the person talking to her, head tilted as she watched him. "Definitely doesn't look like you're doing something important but I don't know if it looks like you're pretending." She paused, quirked eyebrow before she asked. "Are you?" Joey didn't want to linger between tables so she went ahead and sat across the guy. The place was crowded anyway so she put her coffee in front of her and shrugged.

She wasn't even planning on stopping to drink her coffee there but now she was curious and she had a few minutes to spare. Besides, if she could torture some blond stranger, it would be time well spent. So she was ready to listen as she sipped from her hot drink.

[cxntslxxp]

eli huffs a quiet breath through his nose, not quite a laugh, but close enough to count, and nudges the edge of his notebook like he’s considering closing it before thinking better of it. “depends,” he begins “if you know you’re pretending, does that make it honesty or just better branding?” he glances at her coffee, then returns his attention to her with the same expression, the look practical rather than probing.

“i come here to look like someone who writes things down,” he admits “every now and then, i even do. keeps up the illusion that there’s a direction.” his thumb taps once against the table, an old rhythm he doesn’t seem aware of. “do you always sit down and audit strangers,” eli adds, tone dry at the edges, “or should i feel singled out?”

[daily-men]

JAMIE CAMPBELL BOWER The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon (January 2026)

[underwelmed]

alex

[theuswestwood]

where: the jasper valentine's mingle event, by the food table with: OPEN 0/4

"i'm not trying to yuck anyone's yum, or whatever it is the kids say these days, but this dj needs to pick the songs that are gonna get people to fun dance before they slow dance, y'know? we need some whitney houston, some beyonce, some sabrina carpenter. get people on the dance floor and then slow it down with something sexy. y'know?"

[cxntslxxp]

the music was the least of eli's issues, if he was being completely honest. the younger man didn't even know why he was here at all. even before everything, valentine's day had never really been his vibe (that would be halloween, like every other stereotypical punk kid). all it did was make you feel shitty if you didn't have someone to take on an overpriced dinner and give overpriced roses and chocolates to. "if you are so hung up about this incredibly mediocre dj, why didn't you offer to dj yourself?" he began, already thinking about when he could escape to go rip another cigarette outside "you probably could have done a better job with your eyes closed."

[nevermindcrs]

in the mere moments of silence that passed between them, mav wondered if maybe the clerk, who he knew as eli, had forgotten him. or maybe he'd never learned his name to begin with. had he mentioned it in passing? it was likely that he hadn't. he'd blame his inability to hold focus, but then again, there was something about chatting to another about music that stripped away the stranger element. even if they didn't know one another, not really, mav felt close to the other. at least, closer than he'd let himself get to most people in town.

when the other answered, mav huffed a quiet laugh and smiled. "am i allowed to ask what you're writing or is that too much?" his fingers curled around the back of the chair, but he didn't move it. he still wasn't certain if he was wanted on the other side of the table or not. his brows tugged together in confusion, but after a beat of consideration, it landed. "oh, no. he's good. it's a new guy at work. he just wants to make friends, i guess? i've been there. he'll be fine."

mav lifted his coffee and took a long drink, welcoming the warmth and hopefully the energy. "if i'm bothering you," he started, only pausing to wipe away a drop of coffee at the corner of his mouth, "you can tell me. promise i won't hold it against you."

[cxntslxxp]

in any other instance, the other man asking what eli had been writing would have been too much. because in any other situation, the page would be filled in lyrics, something resembling deep thoughts or just something he wouldn't necessarily want to show off to another person (let alone one he didn't know incredibly well outside of sunset sounds). but right now? he had no issues flipping the book around and sliding it towards mav. the only thing covering the page was a collection of badly drawn creepy little figurines and the worlds shortest to-do list for the next time he was at the shop. not anything he actually came here to try and untangle from the thoughts swirling around in his head.

eli was shaking his head before mav could even finish asking if he was bothered by the company. truthfully? he wasn't. it was nice having someone to talk to outside of work, even if the other person was someone he met because of his job. eli wasn't lonely, per say... but that also wasn't something he would admit even if it was true. "nah," he started, pulling his notebook back before gesturing to the seat opposite him "sit, please, the company will be nice." the rings covering his fingers clinked against the glass as he wrapped his hand around it and brought it to his lips. "tell me - are you supposed to be working right now?"

[chrrywave]

alex opens his eyes — ones he hadn’t realized he’d been squinting — the second eli mentions aggressive honesty. he’d been braced for worse, honestly. if he had a dime for every time someone called one of his tattoos bad, he’d have his cigarette money covered for the week. “oh,” he says, a small grin breaking through. “that’s not too bad, then.” he leans an elbow against the bar, relaxing into it. “terrible but not a disaster is kind of the sweet spot i live in. feels very on-brand.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, rolling his wrist once more before tugging his sleeve back down. “yeah, it definitely belongs. though i should probably stop saying yes to every tattoo idea i have.” a beat. “i’m gonna end up looking like a human sketchpad.” his gaze flicks back to eli, curious now, easy. “what about you?” he asks. “you got any bad ones you regret? or are you pretending they’re all intentional too?”

[cxntslxxp]

"we are two of a kind then," he started with a laugh. terrible but not a disaster was definitely the sweet spot a very specific type of person lived in and eli was glad the other didn't take it too personally when the not compliment left his lips. "are human sketchpads such a bad thing to aspire to be? bad tattoos beat blank skin, any day. sure, it might suggest at least one questionable decision but that's better than never risking one at all."

bad tattoos felt like eli's specialty. for a while they were his own personal souvenir for every new city he ended up in touring with his band, reminders of a version of his life he doesn't revisit unless he has to. "regret... is a strong word" his mouth quirking, one shoulder lifting in something resembling a half shrug, like the answer lived somewhere between yes and it's complicated. "let's just say, there are a few i wouldn't volunteer for if i met them on a flash sheet today."

[cxntslxxp]

VALENTINE'S DAY MINGLE !

[cxntslxxp]

open @jasperstarters, valentine's day mingle [2/4] ! eli leans against the brick wall outside the rec center, jacket pulled tight around him. he doesn’t exactly belong in anything remotely resembling semi-formal, let alone semi-formal reds or pinks, and he’d made that very clear before being practically dragged here. there was hope he would get kicked out for wearing mostly black (his usual black skinny jeans and well-worn leather jacket) with the smallest pop of red in the patterned neck scarf he wore. but that was just him hoping for the worst. a cigarette hangs between his fingers, smoke curling lazily into the cold february air as he watches the crowd through the haze. mingling? dancing? eli would honestly rather hang himself upside down by his shoelaces from the basketball hoop, to be used as some sort of vaguely festive piñata. so why was he here? he couldn't tell ya. agreeing to come to here might be his subconscious' way of telling him to do something other than work or sit in his apartment, thinking about the song he had been trying to write for six weeks now. would this spur some sort of enlightenment? eli doubted it.

[nevermindcrs]

mav halfway listened while an employee from the gym buzzed in his ear. the other part of him was looking around the shop, scanning over familiar faces and strangers alike. he'd rattled off his order, made sounds of acknowledgement every so often, and stood until his name was called and two coffees were pushed towards the edge of the pick up counter.

the personal trainer clocked the record store clerk and grinned, the curve deepening when they noticed him back. "uh," he started, turning back when his name was called by the other employee, "go ahead, dude. i'll catch you back at the gym." when the other male nodded and walked off, mav turned back towards the familiar face, his smile still pulled wide.

"well, if i'm being honest," he trailed off as he stepped closer, only stopping when his free hand met the back of an empty chair. "looks pretty important to me. so, is it?"

[cxntslxxp]

when eli spoke initially, he did it mostly to not embarrass the person he was about to catch staring, not really expecting to know the person well at all. it was a small town but was it really that small? so when his eyes landed on maverick (who’s full name he really only knew because he had seen it on the man’s credit card no less than four times a week for the last few months) he couldn’t help the small hint of a smirk that tugged on the corner of his lips.

“nah..” he began, flipping the book around to show the random doodles filling the page where song lyrics should be. “I thought trying to write in a public setting would help but I was sorely mistaken.” unfortunately it was doing the opposite of helping. any potential lyrics he did have floating around in his brain before he stepped foot into the shop were just.. gone. "did you need to..." he tilted his head towards the door, trying his best to reference to the other man who left without him.

[cxntslxxp]

open @jasperstarters at the bean scene - capped at [1/3] !

eli, ever the creature of habit, has found himself coming to the same little coffee shop, ordering the same drink (hot black coffee with honey with a splash of oat milk), and settling into the same corner for so many consecutive days that the barista has stopped asking for his order. they never used to exchange more than a handful of words, and now they don’t need to - the drink is made, slid across the counter and carried back to his usual seat like muscle memory. he settles in, jacket hooked over the chair, headphones resting around his neck. a notebook sits open in front of him, mostly empty except for the occasional doodle or random song lyric, his thumb tapping against the table in time with whatever song is still playing quietly in his ears. when he catches someone nearby lingering - or maybe just looking a little too long - eli glances up, a curious expression coloring his face rather than a bothered one. “be honest" he begins, a small smile tugging at his mouth. “do i look like i’m doing something important, or just pretending?”

[rdiotwrs]

for @cxntslxxp location: sunset records.

nash made a very prominent point to take care of a certain errand right away. it was the reason he came walking into sunset records with such purpose, a large box in his arms and head whipping around to find where the register was. once he found it, he stood in line for a few moments before he arrived at the register to meet with a smaller blonde-haired boy. he set the box on the counter and looked behind him to be sure nobody else was in line before he turned back to say, "do you guys... restore vinyl players ? i'm desperate." without waiting for an answer, nash reaches in and slides out a box, a vintage, clearly very old gramophone without the big horn attached to it. he sets it down in front of the cashier and gives the boy a concerned look. "it's skipping, i can't figure out if the needle is messed up or what's going on. is there any way you can fix it ? " nash knew it was really old, like really old, but there were still small hopes in the air. he sighs and presses his palms to the counter, clearly stressed. "it-- was my wife's."

[cxntslxxp]

the shop had been on the slower side today so eli found himself spending a good portion of the morning reorganizing piles of records he has already gone through at least a dozen times that week. usually he had been good about finding stuff to keep himself busy while also bettering the shop [organizing things that actually needed organizing, sweeping, working on the overflowing pile of repairs] but there was something about today that just made his head not be fully in it. deep down, he probably knew why but diving down that rabbit hole while he was at work wasn't something he felt like even starting. the bell above the front door sounding through the shop brought eli out of his head and back into the present, a polite smile already plastering itself on his lips before the customer even got close enough to see it properly. "welcome to sunset records, can i help you find anything?" the typical greeting left his lips almost automatically, ready to point the man in the direction of the classic rock section before box in his arms caught his eye. "oh wow..." the affirmation left his lips as the gramophone was set on the counter in front of him. this had to be 1920 or 1930's at least... is this thing even electric? the intrigued look on his face was probably very evident as he let his mind fully wander. "do you mind if i..." eli let his voice trail off as he gently pulled the instrument closer to him "this is incredible... do you have any idea what year it's from?"

[alxndrmrgn]

— OPEN STARTER

where: anywhere that works for your muse (coffee shop/park/bar) @jasperstarters

he rolls his wrist, tilts it toward the light, squints, like the angle might change the verdict. the small stickman, frozen mid-wheelie on a tiny skateboard, offers him absolutely nothing in the way of reassurance. “okay,” he says slowly, more to himself than anyone else, then glances sideways at the person nearest to him. “be honest. like… aggressively honest.”

he lifts his arm between them, rotating it so they can see it properly, finger tracing just beneath the fresh ink without touching it. “is this,” a pause, “funny-bad, or just bad-bad?” he exhales a laugh through his nose, half-defensive, half-amused. it's ironic he even asks, because his arm (and other body parts) still carry a bunch of other 'funny in the moment' tattoo choices. will he ever learn? “because last night it felt like a fun idea to let a stranger stick-n-poke me. like a ‘this will absolutely still be funny when i’m eighty’ level decision.” he looks back at it again, eyebrows knitting together. “now i’m wondering if i just permanently committed to a stickman who thinks he’s tony hawk.” his gaze flicks back to them, hopeful and already bracing for judgment. “don’t sugarcoat it. i can take it. i think.”

[cxntslxxp]

eli squints slightly, studying the crude tattoo on the other man's arm, getting a good long look at skateboarding figure before a small huff of a laugh escapes him. truthfully, eli had more than a few questionable tattoos of his own, some far worse than the one on alex’s arm -- the kind he was grateful stayed covered most of the time.

"you asked for aggressive honesty, please remember that..." eli began, the warning hopefully coming across as the joke he intended. "in theory? the tattoo is terrible but not a complete disaster either" he tilts his head in consideration again, thumb brushing absently against his own wrist. “but i think that’s sort of the point?" he adds. “it’s bad in a way that makes sense. like… it looks like a decision you made, not a mistake you didn’t think through.”

he glances up again, a faint smile lingering "trust me, i’ve seen a lot worse. this one at least looks like it belongs. tony hawk would be proud."

[jbowerherondale]

[popurris]

▸ Window-box antiques || open @jasperstarters

Being December, he knew his chance to find what he was looking for grew slimmer by the day. But Felipe had stopped by the antique shop in need of a quick re-stock. As luck would have it he was able to find two shoe box sized bins filled with second hand and vintage tree ornaments. He went through the few on top before deciding to take them all.

Not wanting to clear out their entire selection before giving someone else a chance, he turned to the other patron in the shop, "You wanna take a look before I swipe 'em all? Last chance to own..Polar bear dressed as Nutcracker." He held up the small ornament by the string, giving it a full look through, "Actually no. I'm taking this one. But the other ones are fair game."

[cxntslxxp]

Eli is only half paying attention when the sound of a voice from somewhere close by hits his eardrums. The man had really only wandered into the local antique shop (a place he had been meaning to check out since he moved to Jasper a few months ago) to see what their record collection was like. He’d been flipping through a crate near the back, thumbing past warped sleeves and familiar names, when it clicked the comment was meant for him. He looks up, eyes tracking the ornament in the other man’s hand, and a small hint of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. " I wouldn't take it away from you," Eli begins, wiping his hands off on his jeans before straightening up slightly to face the man a bit better. "Seems like it picked you."