❛ macedon is too small for you. ❜

herrick gabriel d'cruz. nineteen. freshman.

[bfostr]

[asamsun-blog1]

“c’mon it was funny.” it’s amazing how many times he’s used those words as a defense for his cheap play on words, but hey it seemed to be working. he totally saw that quirk of Herrick’s lip, even ‘mr buried in the books’ couldn’t resist his puns. “yeah totally! I hope they play something cool like ‘the safety dance’ before it’s too late. because in an hour I’m so going to ride off the dock on my skateboard –but like with my pants tied to the board so when it sinks I can be the equivalent of The Hulk when I get back up. oh oh! and hold my breath for a whole twenty minutes.”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

And there it is. Herrick makes some kind of gesture with his head, grimacing as Samson lays out his plan in front of him. This is not a real human. No person can be this drawn to self-destruction…can they? He’s not sure whether Samson is serious or not, but as he racks his mind for something positive to say, he comes up blank. “That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. You’d drown, why not just…I don’t know, do a keg stand like anybody else would? You could try doing that on your skateboard.” Better than trying to Harry Houdini himself out of the water, Herrick thought.

[helen-rafe]

Judas laughed despite himself, even if the sound was half swallowed by the waves. “Think I might be closer to that amnesia guy, but, yeah, point stands.” It looked like he was right about having to deal with sand everywhere later, but he had had gotten worse before. Sharing a house full of other guys all lead by Aldric tended to do that to you.

“Watch it, next thing you’ll know I’ll have drunk enough to try speaking Latin backwards. Or what German I know. That stuff sounds nuts at the best of times.”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

“Latin? So you do have some kind of religious thing.” At least, Herrick assumed that was why he’d pick to learn a language like Latin. He’d only heard of priests using it still today, and if the twelve apostles in Judas’s family was anything to go by, Herrick thought he might have just figured out Judas’s major. Propping his legs up in front of him, he stared up at a starless sky and wondered what in the world drunk German would sound like. Probably just a lot of hacking and spitting.

Herrick glanced up at him with a smug grin. “I can speak Spanish. Maybe I could teach you some words sometime, it’s a much better party trick than German.”

[helen-rafe]

“Right.” Judas tipped his head to the side. “I’ve been there a few times when dragged along for work trips. It was very…loud. Museums made up for it, though.” The anonymity of such places had been enjoyable as well, even if that had only lasted for whatever amount of time he could detach himself from his family. Everyone had their fingers in someone else’s business back home or out here at college; the downfalls of closed off communities. In the big cities everyone was too involved with themselves too give much notice to the state of others, which suited Judas perfectly.

“That’s my secret,” he drawled, “I’m always cold.” He had been dragged off to the movie enough to drop the reference, although it wasn’t much of an exaggeration. An easy, regulated body temp was something he had given up on trying to achieve ages ago. Or, if he was inclined to dip into poetics, he could link it to the variety of comments former “friends” or one night stands had thrown back in his face. Best not, though.

“Ah, but then I’ll come back to haunt you. Sure you wanna risk it?”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

“Alright, Banner.” Herrick made a point to sniff the sleeve of Judas’s sweater when the other wasn’t looking. It didn’t smell like smoke, or pot, so that was good. He didn’t much mind when others smoked around him, because it wasn’t his health they were ruining. Getting caught in the presence of the stuff, on the other hand…that was when he needed to dash.

But right now he was pretty comfortable in the sand and didn’t plan on going anywhere, not when he was having a perfectly fine conversation right here away from the rest of the commotion and chaos. Herrick lifted a doubtful brow, flopping back into the sand regardless of whose clothes he happened to be wearing. “I think I’ll take my chances,” he began warily. “I don’t believe in the supernatural, anyway. Aliens, though—if you were an alien, then we could talk. Or…maybe not. I’m pretty sure aliens don’t speak English, but you’d be welcomed to try.”

[jiffanyrps]

so, yeah. maybe harper’s right, and barking dogs never really do bite, and all the false bravado really ends up in vain; because parties? they’re not hunter’s thing. like. at all. and for all his airs of pretension, there’s no escaping the fact — this growling, thumping bass they’re all so in love with just rips through a fragile skeleton, and it’s a strange energy — usually so invigorating, usually telltale of passion and freedom and truth — this one just reeks of alcohol and desperation. no, it’s not his scene at all; and usually that’s not an issue. usually he can still play it up because he’s moody and hot and has long hair and can play a crowd with just an eyebrow raise and a soft, aloof proverbial statement, but even that can’t hold him together tonight.

because if that were the case, he wouldn’t be hunched over behind this damn bush (if it’s poison ivy or something he’ll legitimately kill someone), retching his guts out over one too many a shot, feeling like absolute shit. there’s a fine line between carefree rulebreaker with unkempt locks and a homeless man who can’t afford a haircut, and he’d leaped over it with a polevault a couple of hours ago; now, he can taste the regret on his breath, and it tastes like a bad mix of pepsi and vodka. (who in the hell—)

of course, it’s only his luck when he clocks a rustle not too far behind him, and hunter’s sure his soft ’fuck’ isn’t as imperceptible as he’d initially intended. he covers it up with an attempt at a laugh that comes out more a wretched groan: ’ trust me, pal. not much to see here. ’

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

Herrick’s come to the conclusion that no, he really isn’t fit for college parties. After an hour or so spent crushed between people on the dance floor and steadily avoiding the guys who would try to pressure him into taking a drink from them, he decided that it’s probably best he leaves before he does something he really regrets. It’s a restraint he has that his brother doesn’t—thinking about his future where he could be thinking about the pleasure of the present. And yet he’s still the lousy back-up plan.

Not wanting to risk running into anyone on his way out (Samson would make a comment on his early departure, he was sure), Herrick manages to sneak out through the back of the tent. This is for the best, he tells himself. He can party all he wants when he’s counting money at the CEO’s desk, when his brother is working beneath him as a result of his poor choices…come to think of it, Herrick’s self-assuring thoughts don’t have much of an effect on him when it dawns on him that even now he’s still thinking about the damn business.

He cringes when the sound of someone throwing up in a bush nearby comes into earshot. Lovely. And as if the sound isn’t bad enough, Herrick makes the mistake of making eye contact with the perpetrator on his way back up. “You act like I wanted to see it,” he retorts. “…Sorry, um---that was rude. I didn’t mean to like, creep up on you, I’m just trying to find my way back to the parking lot.” And failing, so far.

[helen-rafe]

It took a few seconds for Judas to dissect exactly what he could have said to trigger such bewilderment, but once the pieces locked together there was little to do other than laugh. “Mom’s a scholar, Dad likes to humor her. The only crusades they expect us to launch are against the business world.” Not that Judas had any interest in that, of course, further cementing the symbolism of his name, he supposed.

He barked with laughter at hearing the nickname for his state, rolling his shoulders up into a shrug. “Guess I can’t disagree with that. Pretty sure your population has to do with that city everyone wants to flee towards, though. All we get are those ones that come for the ocean only to forget how long winter can actually last.”

He lifted his eyebrows in Herrick’s direction, yet, as far as he could tell, it wasn’t some poorly veiled invitation. He had seen far worse attempts at that from any number of those vying for Aldric’s attention, after all. So, in the end, it didn’t take much thought to wiggle his way out of his sweatshirt. 

“Being near the waves will do that to you.” He handed the sweatshirt over to the other boy, hooking a grin. “Don’t stretch it out?” he teased.

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

“That’s because the city everyone wants to flee towards makes the cold worthwhile,” Herrick corrected him with a look of pride. Out of all the privileges he’d been given in life, living in New York City was the biggest one. Or at least, it was up there. Top five for sure. That probably had something to do with why he was so out of his element here, a little college town on the beach was nothing compared to the Big Apple. A few weeks in and he already felt like he knew too much about too many people.

Judas, thankfully, was not one of them. Yet. Yet seemed to be a popular phrase tonight. Herrick blinked a few times as Judas held his sweater out to him before it actually occurred to him to take it—despite the twinge of guilt that set in when he realized he’d inadvertently coaxed Judas into keeping him warm. “Oh—you don’t have to do that. I mean, thanks, but…” He mumbled it out as he slipped the garment on over his head, of course. He wasn’t sure how to articulate with words that sometimes he got so caught up in conversation that he forgot to pay attention to the way he felt or the state of the world around him. “Won’t you get cold now?” Judas didn’t even have a top on, a fact Herrick was well aware of at this point.

He paused, deadpanning his next response. “You know, for that comment, I should just let you become an icicle.”

[helen-rafe]

“You might have hit the mark there.” The Lane parents would have protested such an estimation fiercely, of course, but Judas had learned to ignore words in favor of tone quite some time ago. “I have eleven older brothers, who got all the ‘better’ names first. Our parents had an interesting sense of humor.”

He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from letting slide a touch at Herrick’s quick refusal. He had been expecting the other boy to book it back to the refuge of the party instead of remaining anywhere near him, so that definitely deserved something in return. “I grew up on Maine, so things didn’t get quite as…interesting up there.”

Then again, if someone gave their body to anywhere near the waves around back home it typically ended with their death. That wasn’t something used to form polite conversation with, though, even more so when he had never even seen such a thing occur. His parents certainly kept him well sheltered from both that and any drunks, visiting only the polished beach of their private community.

And they wondered why he found exploring to be so fun.

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

Eleven brothers? Herrick wasn’t quite aware of it, but when Judas said that his eyes blew wide with terror and his brows drew together in concern. Was Judas part of some religious cult? Was that worse than being a drunk on the beach? Herrick knew his fair share of devout Catholicism, but Jesus…literally, Jesus. That was just too much.

Herrick wouldn’t push for more information about the religious cult, and luckily, Judas didn’t give it. “My dad says that Maine is like America’s nose. Cold and runny.” And there goes Herrick’s filter again. “I grew up in New York, though, so I can say that. I’m used to cold. You know what’s funny about New York is that it’s almost always freezing, but it’s one of the most populated states in the US so I’m sure it’s doing something right.”

What were they talking about again? Sometimes Herrick likes to ramble or else people will get tired of listening to him and try to find something more fascinating to capture their interests. He finds the time to shut up for once, watching as the oncoming waves just barely nip his toes. Oh, right. They’re in Delaware. “I’m kinda cold right now, actually.”

[thxnarcissist-blog]

Of fucking course Cassius is running late. It’s not his fault, really __ At least that’s what he’s going to tell people when he finally gets to the beach. Looking like fucking sin takes time, after all and after half an hour in front of a mirror he finally decides that, fuck yes, he looks more than presentable and ready to party. He’s got his (super secret) flask tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket and his cell phone is glued to his left hand as he steps out of his dorm room and heads for the beach.

A smirk forms on his lips the minute he hears the music and he’s already cracking open the metal sippy cup to take a few long swallows before he’s shoving his way into the center of the crowd. Life of the party, center of attention, it’s practically his calling to be here, surrounded by his people and when he feels a hand drag over his arm (probably an accident) he turns his attention to whoever it is that’s touched him. “Oh sugar if you wanted to dance all you had to do was ask,” he says, sending a wink that’s more flirtatious than it has any right to be.

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

Honestly and truly—Herrick has no idea how he got here. Believe him, sticking around for long was not in his plans for tonight, and yet here he is. In the center of some mosh pit, or whatever, actually kind of enjoying himself despite his only dance move being jumping up and down to the beat. He’ll only continue for a few more minutes, though. That’s it, seriously, he’s got a major workload tomorrow.

In a moment of rather poor planning on his part, he reaches back to wipe the sweat (ew) off the back of his neck, forgetting for a second that he’s 5’8” and all the guys here are giants compared to him. His hand brushes against someone else on the way down and he’s about to pay no mind to it but of course the other guy has to make it awkward and Herrick would make some kind of sassy comment back if it weren’t for…oh. Arm guy’s actually kind of not bad. In the face. His face is decently pleasing. Pleasingly aesthetic.

“What? No, that’s okay. I mean, no, I’m leaving. I was already leaving before you asked, not because…sorry, I really have to go.”

[helen-rafe]

There was something in the kid’s words that made Judas’ answer roll out with a underlying bite around it. “Not yet.” Admitting the truth if only to himself, though, he doubted he would have much of a chance. Aldric was enough of a handful to deal with when sober, let alone properly smashed. As for Mirik… Well that all depended on what sort of mood he was in. Heaven help them all if it was one of his sober poet slumps.

Did it count for anything if he never set out with the intention of becoming team mom?

He tipped his head in mock salute, not willing to upset his balance enough to get a hand involved. “Judas.” There wasn’t much point in running through the rest of the spiel when it would all come out if the kid got involved in the life at college at all. And if there was anything else about this Herrick worth knowing it could come out as the college year went on. It seemed a respectful exchange. 

The corners of his lips curved when he took in the tense lines still in the kid’s frame. “Did I spook you?”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

Herrick heaved a heavy sigh. At least he was honest. It did make him feel a little better that this guy hadn’t been blacked out drunk in the sand and Herrick had just happened upon him on a solitary stroll…talk about nightmare fuel from your first college party ever.

“Judas as in Bible Judas? You must be the least favorite,” Herrick joked. He helped himself to a seat next to Judas, not too close for comfort and not so far away as to practically be sitting in the water, gathering a fistful of sand and letting it slink out between his fingers. Hey, just because he’s avoiding people doesn’t mean he isn’t in need of company. Turns out his ten minutes of alone time was more than he could handle before striking conversation with someone again.

Maybe it was just him, but Judas seemed a little too thrilled at the idea of spooking Herrick than should be taken as normal. “No,” he replied, nose crinkling. “I just thought you might’ve been a washed up shark or something. I have a vacation home in San Francisco, I’m used to seeing drunk guys passed out on the beach.”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

herrick’s family

♛ father; andrés d’cruz (esai morales) ♛ mother; elyse czajkowski-d’cruz (charlize theron) ♛ older brother; victor d’cruz (david castro)

[asamsun-blog1]

he’s standing at the entrance in front of the blaring part, holding a giant bag of leis. addmittidely there are about three around his own neck already. as the next person comes up he greets them with his usual huge dim-witted smile, holding out another lei. “hey hey –come on in.” he puts the lei around their neck “and you’ve just been lei’d.”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

“Ha ha ha.” Herrick brings one of the hibiscuses to his nose despite the cringeworthy joke—it does smell good, he’ll give Samson that. As he shuffles off awkwardly to the side of the entrance as more partygoers come through, Herrick quirks his lips to the side in some half-hearted attempt at a smile. He hadn’t been to many parties in high school, so it’s safe to say that he’s a fish out of water as far as this whole thing’s concerned. Pun kind of intended.

He hasn’t known Samson for very long, but what Herrick does know about him is that wherever there’s a body of water and a pier nearby, the other is sure to have some kind of something lurking up his sleeve. “So…what are you looking forward to doing tonight? Dancing?”

[helen-rafe]

Strictly speaking, it wouldn’t have mattered one way or another whether Judas actually wanted to go to the party. The importance of putting in an appearance had been taught to him at a young age, so falling into line now was only natural. Even if their “prestigious” leader’s reasons for mingling tended to lean more to free beer and scoping out the fresh"meat".

And compared to other events—all crammed near claustrophobically into the nearest space the school could wrangle together—the beach was infinitely better. 

There were too many distractions on hand for anyone to think of stopping him from heading down towards the waves, rolling up the bottoms of his jeans so that he could wade in. He flopped down on the sand, afterwards, aware he was going to regret the sand sure to get everywhere later. For now, though, it was an easy distraction to close his eyes, focusing on the music that seemed determined to pound its rhythm even down into the ground below. 

At least until someone managed to kick up sand entirely too near to his face, leaving him to spit it back out as he propped himself on his elbows. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he drawled, eyes narrowing as he rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand.

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

So, this was Othrys. Drunken boys on the beach, prancing around half-dressed with leis around their necks and beer bottles in their grips. Herrick couldn’t say he was surprised. From what he’d gathered, this seemed to be your standard experience for every college in America—he’d just expected things to be a little more…what’s the word? Dignified.

After chatting with a couple upperclassmen who seemed insistent on convincing him the library was haunted (unoriginal and unconvincing. Herrick had just graduated from high school, not the eighth grade.), he decided going solo for the rest of the night was his best option. He had a tutoring session in the morning and couldn’t chance taking a cup of spiked punch from anybody, not if he wanted to wake up any time before noon. No, kicking up sand and playing with the loose change in his pockets was obviously the optimal way of celebrating the end of summer.

The sudden movement below had Herrick jolting back with a rather shrill yelp, however, nearly causing him to lose his footing by the shoreline. Had he really been so zoned out as to miss the clear presence of a person in his pathway? Maybe he had been slipped some booze, after all.

“Herrick,” he responded all too quickly, brushing the sand off his khaki shorts. It wasn’t that he was intimidated by the guy lying before him, but you’d be pretty on edge if you’d thought you’d come across some kind of land shark, too. Eyes narrowing in return, Herrick gave himself a chance to study the other. He reminded Herrick of his brother. “Are you trashed?”

[goldcnfleeced-blog]

dreams worth more than money ♛ self

“I mean, the professor’s kinda weird, but other than that the class is a total breeze.” Herrick watches inattentively as his toes curl against his headboard, wiggling a little down his mattress so that his head isn’t completely falling off the edge of the bed. He’ll neglect to tell his father that he’s falling behind in English, of course, because who needs English? The business world is increasingly multilingual, anyway. “I’m already ahead when it comes to all the tests, so.”

“That’s fantastic, mijo.” Andrés D’Cruz sounds distracted as ever—Herrick is certain he can hear him tapping away at a keyboard in the silence that follows the aloof praise. He holds in the urge to sigh. It takes weeks for him to schedule a call with his father and he can’t even get his full attention? Mierda.

Not one to be overshadowed (by work, no less), Herrick sits up with determination, clutching a furry sheepskin pillow to his side. “My counselor’s even saying that if I continue on the path I’m on right now, I could be set to graduate a year early. It’s like, it’s almost unheard of for double majors.”

That gets a pause out of his father, at least. “—You’re kidding, how fantastic!” (It’s the third time he’s said “fantastic”.) “Your mother and I will be very proud of you. Very proud.”

Of course they will be. They’re always just proud, but that’s all they ever are, they’re never proud enough to realize just how hard he works for what he wants. Can the same be said about Victor? Not at all. They celebrate when he wipes his ass on his own. Just the thought of his brother’s privilege over him has him seeing red, and he can’t help the next thing that comes flying out of his mouth.

“It took Victor five years,” he blurts out, not feeling the slightest bit of guilt for dragging his brother down to make his point. “He’s still trying to graduate.”

Nonchalance. “Victor has a business to worry about on top of his schooling, he’s been stressed. Don’t worry about Victor, worry about your own grades. You’re on top of your game!”

Though he had somewhat of a point, Herrick heard nothing after “he’s been stressed.” What a boldfaced lie. At this point, he couldn’t tell whether his father was being genuinely dense or just covering for his precious oldest son. “Stressed? He’s been partying nonstop since freshman year!”

“Herrick—“

“I mean, you see all the pictures he’s tagged in, all he does is drink and hookup with gold-diggers, he doesn’t give two shits about ‘schooling’ and he never has! I work ten times harder than he does for a lousy passing grade and you know that.”

“Enough already, I’m not having this conversation with you right now,” Andrés barks, startling Herrick out of his tirade for a change. His father hardly ever scolds him, but when he does, it has Herrick retracting right into his shell in a rare moment of surrender. “I don’t want to hear about Victor and the company anymore. Your focus needs to be on graduating, understand me?”

And Herrick was silent. If he couldn’t convince his parents to give him the business by succeeding, maybe it was time he started thinking about a different approach. Hanging up on his father without so much as a goodbye (he knew he wouldn’t even get a text for the next few days), he pulled out his laptop, going straight to his brother’s private Facebook profile and dialing another number. His father didn’t see how little Victor worked for this? That was fine. Surely the general public would see otherwise.

Herrick didn’t believe in sabotaging his competition. Right now, his competition was sabotaging itself.

[jaketaustin-arg]

[mariacenzina]

Create wings out of fire. Burn holes through the nets they cast upon you.

M.C.S

[octobrsvryownn-deactivated20240]

[laurenxconrad]